"I'm afraid I cannot recall her name, though I believe I have seen the face somewhere; one does not take special notice of children; I cannot imagine why she should be any one in particular, as that little fool declared. Of course one knows every one who _is_ any body! Well, who is she?" "First tell me, do you consider her pretty?" "Passable--but of course a mere child; she may improve and may go the other way. She's Russian, of course?" "Certainly, but has been absent from Russia for five years. Her clothes are of the last French mode--she has French relations--have I shed light liberally enough to illuminate your intelligence?" "She is Vera Demidof, you mean; I did not know she had returned. Well, she has come too soon, she is a child, I will say neither yes nor no to her until I can judge of her when full grown." Sasha flushed and looked aggrieved. His companion laughed. "You are not a very ardent fiancé," she said. "Remember, it is your duty to love her; she will expect to be greeted radiantly, to hear words of endearment, delight at her unexpected return, and so forth; compose your features, my friend, you are frowning; look pleased, ardent, full of affection, and so go and do your duty." "You speak foolishly; it is not for _you_ to bid me perform this foolery, you who know that my heart contains but one image. You must be aware that my betrothal is a mere farce, a thing to be shaken off as easily as assumed. I shall speak to the girl--courtesy demands it, but I shall pretend no affection." "Poor child, she will be heart-broken; see how lovingly she gazes at you even now!" Sasha looked, but Vera's gaze did not strike him as being aptly described by the word "loving"; on the contrary, though she turned her head when she observed that she was watched, he was in time to surprise what appeared to him to be an indignant rather than a languishing expression. As a matter of fact Vera was very angry indeed. Constantine had returned to her shy and shamefaced. "Well--is he coming? What did he say?" she had asked. "His vanity is terrible," said Constantine, "and his manners are even worse." "How--what do you mean--does he recognise me and refuse to renew our acquaintance?" "Oh no, he did not suspect who you were. He said you were a mere child and hinted that he had no time to waste upon children." "Children!" repeated Vera indignantly; "and I in my seventeenth year! Bah--he has, as you say, no manners. So he has refused to be presented." "Not quite that! 'I will come, if I can, later,' he said; I think he is much absorbed, at present, by the lady at his side; it is a different one, with him, every month." "I will wait for half an hour, and then, if he comes not, you shall take me away, Constantine," said Vera; and though the lad at her side protested against her doing Maximof so much honour, she insisted upon staying.