"I noticed how very animated your manner was, while you were talking to N. N.," I said to him, one evening, upon our return from a ball; and I shook my finger at him as I named a well-known lady of St. Petersburg with whom he had spent part of the evening. I only meant to tease him a little, for he was silent, and had a wearied look. "Ah, why say such a thing? And for you to say it, Katia!" he exclaimed, frowning, and pressing his lips together as if in physical pain. "That is not like you,--not becoming your position, or mine. Leave such speeches to others; bad jests of that kind might entirely do away with our good understanding,--and I still hope that this good understanding may return." I felt confused, and was silent. "Will it return, Katia? What do you think?" he asked. "It is not changed,--it will never change," I said, and then I firmly believed my assertion. "May God grant it!" he exclaimed, "but it is time we were going back to the country." This was the only occasion upon which he spoke to me in this way, and the rest of the time it seemed to me that everything was going on as delightfully for him as for me,--and as for me, oh! I was so light-hearted, so joyous! If occasionally I happened to notice that he was wearied, I would console myself by reflecting how long, for his sake, I had been wearied in the country; if our relations seemed to be undergoing some little alteration, I thought how speedily they would resume their old charm when we should find ourselves again alone, in the summer, at our own Nikolski. Thus the winter sped away without my realizing it; and Easter came, and, despite all our resolutions we were still in St. Petersburg. The Sunday following, however, we were really ready to go, everything was packed, my husband had made his final purchases of flowers, gifts, things of all kinds which were needed for the country, and was in one of his happiest, most affectionate moods. Shortly before we were to start, we had an unexpected visit from our cousin, who came to beg us to postpone our departure one week, so that we might attend a reception given by Countess R. on Saturday. She reminded me that I had already received several invitations from Countess R., which had been declined, and told me that Prince M., then in St. Petersburg, had, at the last ball, expressed a desire to make my acquaintance, that it was with this object in view that he purposed attending this reception, and that he was saying everywhere that I was the loveliest woman in Russia. The whole city would be there,--in one word, I must go! It would be nothing without me. My husband was at the other end of the room, talking to some one. "So you will certainly come, Katia?" said my cousin. "We meant to leave for the country, day after to-morrow," I replied, doubtfully, as I glanced at my husband. Our eyes met, and he turned away abruptly. "I will persuade him to stay," said my cousin, "and on Saturday we will turn all heads,--won't we?"