The sisters listened to Trirodov as they walked, pausing often to admire the beauties of the garden--its trees, lawns, ponds, islands, its quietly murmuring fountains, its picturesque arbours, its profusely gay flower-beds. They felt a keen elation at having penetrated this mysterious house--they were as happy as schoolgirls at the thought of having infringed the commonly accepted rules of good society in coming here. As they entered one room of the house Elena exclaimed: “What a strange room!” “A magic room,” said Trirodov with a smile. It was indeed a strange room--everything in it had an odd shape: the ceiling sloped, the floor was concave, the corners were round, upon the walls were incomprehensible pictures and unfamiliar hieroglyphics. In one corner was a dark, flat object in a carved frame of black wood. “It’s a mirror in which it is interesting to take a look at oneself,” said Trirodov. “Only you have to stand in that triangle close to the wall, near the corner.” The sisters went there and glanced in the mirror: two old wrinkled faces were reflected in it. Elena cried out in fright. Elisaveta, growing pale, turned towards her sister and smiled. “Don’t be afraid,” she said, “it’s a trick of some sort.” Elena looked at her and cried out in horror: “You have become quite old--grey-haired! How awful!” She ran from the mirror, crying out in her fright: “What is it? What is it?” Elisaveta followed her. She did not understand what had happened; she was agitated, and tried to hide her confusion. Trirodov looked at them in a self-possessed manner. He opened a cupboard, inset in the wall. “Be calm,” he said to Elena. “I’ll give you some water in a moment.” He gave her a glass containing a fluid as colourless as water. Elena quickly drank the sour-sweet water, and suddenly felt cheerful. Elisaveta also drank it. Elena threw herself towards the mirror. “I’m young again,” she exclaimed in a high voice. Then she ran forward, embraced Elisaveta, and said cheerfully: “And you too, Elisaveta, have grown young.” An impetuous joy seized both sisters. They caught each other by the hands and began to dance and to twirl round the room. Then they suddenly felt ashamed. They stopped, and did not know which way to look; they laughed in their confusion. Elisaveta said: “What a stupid pair we are! You think us ridiculous, don’t you?” Trirodov smiled in a friendly fashion: “That is the nature of this place,” he observed. “Terror and joy live here together.” * * * * * The sisters were shown many interesting things in the house--objects of art and of worship; things which told of distant lands and of hoary antiquity; engravings of a strange and disturbing character; variegated stones, turquoise, pearls; ugly, amorphous, and grotesque idols; representations of the god-child--there were many of these, but only one face profoundly stirred Elisaveta....