“Go into the garden, will you?” said Sina, laughing. “I would ask you to come indoors, but I am afraid things are rather untidy, as I have been out ever since the morning.” She went in, and Yourii sauntered towards the green, fragrant garden. He did not go far, but stopped to look round with intense curiosity at the dark windows of the house, as if something were happening there, something strangely beautiful and mysterious. Sina appeared in the doorway. Yourii hardly recognized her. She had changed her black dress, and now wore the costume of Little Russia, a thin bodice cut low, with short sleeves and a blue skirt. “Here I am!” she said, smiling. “So I see!” replied Yourii with a certain mysterious emphasis that she alone could appreciate. She smiled once more, and looked sideways, as they walked along the garden-path between long grasses and branches of lilac. The trees were small ones, most of them being cherry-trees, whose young leaves had an odour of resinous gum. Behind the garden there was a meadow where wild flowers bloomed amid the long grass. “Let us sit down here,” said Sina. They sat down by the, fence that was falling to pieces, and looked across the meadow at the dying sunset. Yourii caught hold of a slender lilac-branch, from which fell a shower of dew. “Shall I sing something to you?” asked Sina. “Oh! yes, do!” replied Yourii. As on the evening of the picnic, Sina breathed deeply, and her comely bust was clearly denned beneath the thin bodice, as she began to sing, “Oh, beauteous Star of Love.” Pure and passionate, her notes floated out on the evening air. Yourii remained motionless, gazing at her, with bated breath. She felt that his eyes were upon her, and, closing her own, she sang on with greater sweetness and fervour. There was silence everywhere as if all things were listening; Yourii thought of the mysterious hush of woodlands in spring when a nightingale sings. As Sina ceased on a clear, high note, the silence seemed yet more intense. The sunset light had faded; the sky grew dark and more vast. The leaves and the grass quivered imperceptibly; across the meadow and through the garden there passed a soft, perfumed breeze; faint as a sigh. Sina’s eyes, shining in the gloom, turned to Yourii. “Why so silent?” she asked. “It is almost too delightful here!” he murmured, and again he grasped a dewy branch of lilac. “Yes, it is very beautiful,” replied Sina dreamily. “In fact it is beautiful to be alive,” she added. A thought, vague and disquieting, crossed Yourii’s mind, but it vanished without taking any clear shape. Some one loudly whistled twice on the other side of the meadow, and then came silence, as before. “Do you like Schafroff?” asked Sina suddenly, being inwardly amused at so apparently inept a question. Yourii felt a momentary pang of jealousy, but with a slight effort he replied gravely. “He’s a good fellow.” “How devoted he is to his work!” Yourii was silent.