"How does the countess's cousin seem to thee?" asked Yosef of him one day. "Oh, my friend, he is a zero." "With what dost thou reproach him?" "Nothing; what does stupidity mean really? He talks with the ladies as far as he is able; he wears a fashionable coat, glossy gloves; he knots his cravat symmetrically, praises virtue, condemns vice, says it is better to be wise than not; still, O Yosef, he is a zero." "Thou judgest people in masses." "Again! in masses. As is known to thee, I judge the breast according to the measure of the tailor, not that of Phidias; and as I advance laughter seizes me, but my heart does not burst, it must have cause sufficient to burst." "Speak more clearly." "What shall I say to thee? Well, he is a middling man, a man of the mean, but not the golden one; honest, for he has not done anything dishonest or perverse. But let him go! Better speak of philosophy or sing an old contradance; which dost thou prefer?" "Let us speak of him, I beg of thee," said Yosef, with decision. "Well, fill me a pipe then." Yosef filled a pipe for him, lighted a cigar for himself, and began to walk through the room. "I will not give thee an account of the evenings there, for I do not wish to annoy thee," said Augustinovich, "but if thou desire this thing, then listen. "The affair is as follows: Pelski learned that the old count left a daughter, and curiosity led him to look at her. Seest thou, people are vain; they love effect, and the rôle of a rich cousin in presence of a poor one is not devoid of effect, so this rôle has pleased Pelski. Whom would it not please? Thou art wealthy, and givest thy hand to her (that is, to thy cousin), thou shieldest her with thy most mighty protection, astonishest her with thy delicacy of feeling, with thy acts; thou becomest her king's son--her ideal. Ei, old man, how this tickles vanity! What romances these are, Satan take me! 'O gray rye, he is digging the earth!' It is a whole novel. A steed, a noble figure, on her part smiles and tears--they are separated by fate; later they meet, they agree, they are reconciled, and Numa marries Pompilius!" These last words Augustinovich pronounced with a certain maliciousness. "Art thou speaking of Lula and Pelski?" asked Yosef, gloomily. "Yes; Pelski looked at her through curiosity, and she, as thou knowest, is a fair maiden, and that rôle pleased him. Pelski is an ordinary man, an aristocrat,--in one word, zero,--but if she pays no attention to the statue--" "Yes, if?" interrupted Yosef, catching at the last word. "But thou--why deceive thyself? It must be all one to thee. Thou art not a child nor a woman; thou hadst full knowledge of what thou wert doing when going to Helena with a declaration." Yosef was silent; Augustinovich continued: "I say: Pelski is a young man and wealthy, she pleases him very much, and she may not look at the statue; she pleases him,--that is the main thing."