"She can't explain! That means she doesn't want to explain. Oh, the cunning one. What a sly look she has in her eyes." So thought the captain's wife. From the very beginning of the conversation, the two warm friends, it need scarcely be said, were mutually distrustful. Each had the conviction that everything the other said was to be taken in the very opposite sense. They were of about the same age, Mrs. Shaldin possibly one or two years younger than Mrs. Zarubkin. Mrs. Zarubkin was rather plump, and had heavy light hair. Her appearance was blooming. Mrs. Shaldin was slim, though well proportioned. She was a brunette with a pale complexion and large dark eyes. They were two types of beauty very likely to divide the gentlemen of the regiment into two camps of admirers. But women are never content with halves. Mrs. Zarubkin wanted to see all the officers of the regiment at her feet, and so did Mrs. Shaldin. It naturally led to great rivalry between the two women, of which they were both conscious, though they always had the friendliest smiles for each other. Mrs. Shaldin tried to give a different turn to the conversation. "Do you think the ball will be interesting this year?" "Why should it be interesting?" rejoined the captain's wife scornfully. "Always the same people, the same old humdrum jog-trot." "I suppose the ladies have been besieging our poor Abramka?" "I really can't tell you. So far as I am concerned, I have scarcely looked at what he made for me." "Hm, how's that? Didn't you order your dress from Moscow again?" "No, it really does not pay. I am sick of the bother of it all. Why all that trouble? For whom? Our officers don't care a bit how one dresses. They haven't the least taste." "Hm, there's something back of that," thought Mrs. Shaldin. The captain's wife continued with apparent indifference: "I can guess what a gorgeous dress you had made abroad. Certainly in the latest fashion?" "I?" Mrs. Shaldin laughed innocently. "How could I get the time during my cure to think of a dress? As a matter of fact, I completely forgot the ball, thought of it at the last moment, and bought the first piece of goods I laid my hands on." "Pink?" "Oh, no. How can you say pink!" "Light blue, then?" "You can't call it exactly light blue. It is a very undefined sort of colour. I really wouldn't know what to call it." "But it certainly must have some sort of a shade?" "You may believe me or not if you choose, but really I don't know. It's a very indefinite shade." "Is it Sura silk?" "No, I can't bear Sura. It doesn't keep the folds well." "I suppose it is crêpe de Chine?" "Heavens, no! Crêpe de Chine is much too expensive for me." "Then what can it be?" "Oh, wait a minute, what _is_ the name of that goods? You know there are so many funny new names now. They don't make any sense." "Then show me your dress, dearest. Do please show me your dress." Mrs. Shaldin seemed to be highly embarrassed.