Towards the close of the year 1811, during that very memorable epoch, there lived in the village of Nenaradova the good Gavrila Gavrilovich R----. He was famed throughout the district for his hospitality and good-nature; and his neighbors continually kept coming to his house to partake of food and drink, and to play the game of Boston at five kopecks with his wife, Prascovia Petrovna. Others came, however, to inspect their daughter, Maria Gavrilovna, a graceful, pale, seventeen-year-old girl. She was considered a rich match, and many a visitor had had designs upon her for himself or for his son. Maria Gavrilovna had been brought up on French novels, and consequently was in love. The object chosen by her for her love was a poor army lieutenant, who was now on a leave of absence in his native village. It goes without saying that the young man returned her passion. The parents of the girl, however, having noted the mutual inclinations of the pair, forbade their daughter even to think of him; while him they received even worse than if he were a dismissed petty official. Our lovers exchanged notes, and saw each other every day, alone, in the pine wood or in the old chapel. There they vowed to each other eternal love, bewailed their fate, and formed all sorts of plans. Their discussions carried on in this way naturally brought them to the following conclusion: “If we can’t exist without each other, and the will of stern parents stands in the way of our felicity, why shouldn’t we manage without them?” Needless to say, this happy idea originated in the mind of the young man, and that it appealed strongly to the romantic imagination of Maria Gavrilovna. Winter came on, and interrupted their meetings. This, however, only served to quicken the correspondence. Vladimir Nikolaevich, in every letter, entreated her to give herself to him, to wed secretly, to remain in concealment a while, and then to throw themselves at the feet of the parents, who, to be sure, would be touched finally by the heroic constancy and unhappiness of the lovers, and undoubtedly say to them, “Children, come to our arms!” Maria Gavrilovna hesitated a long time; and several of the plans to run away she rejected. At last she consented. On the appointed day she was to do without supper and escape to her room on the plea of a headache. Her maid was in the plot. The two of them were to make their way into the garden by means of the back-stairs. Outside the garden a sledge would stand ready to take them straight to the church of Jadrino, a village five versts away, where Vladimir would await them.