“I was led into a small but clean room, in one corner of which hung an ikon-lamp. On the bed lay a twenty-year-old maiden, unconscious; in a high fever. Here also were her two sisters, frightened and in tears. ‘Only yesterday,’ they said, ‘she was altogether well, and ate with appetite; but this morning she complained of pains in her head, and tonight suddenly she is like this.’... ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ I once more reassured them--as you know, it’s one of the doctor’s obligations--and proceeded to my task. I bled her, applied mustard-plasters, and prescribed a mixture. And all the time I couldn’t take my eyes from her--upon my word, I never saw such a face ... a beauty, in fact! I was torn by compassion. Such a lovely face, and eyes!... There, thank God, she had grown quieter; perspiration had set in. She was coming to herself; she glanced around her, smiled, moved her hand across her face.... Her sisters bent over her, they asked her, ‘What is the matter with you?’ ‘Nothing,’ she answered, and turned away.... When I looked again she was asleep. I advised quiet; and so we all, on our tiptoes, made our way out, and the maid alone remained in the room, in case of an emergency. “In the drawing-room the samovar was steaming. They gave me tea, and I was invited to stay overnight.... I agreed; it was late, where else could I go? The little old lady continued to sigh. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to her. ‘Your daughter shall live. And you too need some rest--it is two o’clock.’... ‘And you’ll see that I’m awakened if anything should happen?’ ... I promised.