It was the first time Olénin had seen the whole of her beautiful face. Till then he had seen her with her kerchief covering her to the eyes. It was not for nothing that she was reckoned the beauty of the village. Ústenka was a pretty girl, small, plump, rosy, with merry brown eyes, and red lips which were perpetually smiling and chattering. Maryánka on the contrary was certainly not pretty but beautiful. Her features might have been considered too masculine and almost harsh had it not been for her tall stately figure, her powerful chest and shoulders, and especially the severe yet tender expression of her long dark eyes which were darkly shadowed beneath their black brows, and for the gentle expression of her mouth and smile. She rarely smiled, but her smile was always striking. She seemed to radiate virginal strength and health. All the girls were good-looking, but they themselves and Belétski, and the orderly when he brought in the spice-cakes, all involuntarily gazed at Maryánka, and anyone addressing the girls was sure to address her. She seemed a proud and happy queen among them. Belétski, trying to keep up the spirit of the party, chattered incessantly, made the girls hand round _chikhir_, fooled about with them, and kept making improper remarks in French about Maryánka’s beauty to Olénin, calling her “yours” (_la vôtre_), and advising him to behave as he did himself. Olénin felt more and more uncomfortable. He was devising an excuse to get out and run away when Belétski announced that Ústenka, whose saint’s day it was, must offer _chikhir_ to everybody with a kiss. She consented on condition that they should put money on her plate, as is the custom at weddings. “What fiend brought me to this disgusting feast?” thought Olénin, rising to go away. “Where are you off to?” “I’ll fetch some tobacco,” he said, meaning to escape, but Belétski seized his hand. “I have some money,” he said to him in French. “One can’t go away, one has to pay here,” thought Olénin bitterly, vexed at his own awkwardness. “Can’t I really behave like Belétski? I ought not to have come, but once I am here I must not spoil their fun. I must drink like a Cossack,” and taking the wooden bowl (holding about eight tumblers) he almost filled it with _chikhir_ and drank it almost all. The girls looked at him, surprised and almost frightened, as he drank. It seemed to them strange and not right. Ústenka brought them another glass each, and kissed them both. “There girls, now we’ll have some fun,” she said, clinking on the plate the four rubles the men had put there. Olénin no longer felt awkward, but became talkative. “Now, Maryánka, it’s your turn to offer us wine and a kiss,” said Belétski, seizing her hand. “Yes, I’ll give you such a kiss!” she said playfully, preparing to strike at him. “One can kiss Grandad without payment,” said another girl.