"Ah! that's so English! So cautious! How I hate your caution! Why can't you say at once that you haven't made up your mind about him--because that's the truth, isn't it? I wish he would not sit there, looking at me, and not talking to the others. He ought to talk to them, but he's afraid that they'll laugh at his Russian. It's not very good, his Russian, is it? I can't help laughing myself sometimes!" _Her_ English was extremely good. Sometimes she used a word in its wrong sense; she had one or two charming little phrases of her own: "What a purpose to?" instead of: "Why?" and sometimes a double negative. She rolled her r's more than is our habit. I said, looking straight into her eyes: "It's a tremendous thing to him, his having you. I can see that although I've known him so short a time. He's a very lucky man and--and--if his luck were to go, I think that he'd simply die. There! That isn't a very English thing to have said, is it?" "Why did you say it?" she cried sharply. "You don't trust me. You think--" "I think nothing," I answered. "Only he's not like ordinary men. He's so much younger than his age." She gave me then the strangest look. The light seemed suddenly to die out of her face; her eyes sought mine as though for help. There were tears in them. "Oh! I do want to be good to him!" she whispered. Then got up abruptly and joined the others. Late in the afternoon an automobile arrived and carried off most of our party. I was compelled to remain for several hours, and intended to drive, looking forward indeed to the long quiet silence of the spring evening. Moved by some sudden impulse I suggested to Trenchard that he should wait and drive with me: "The car will be very crowded," I said, "and I think too that you'd like to see some of the country properly. It's a lovely evening--only thirty versts.... Will you wait and come with me?" He agreed at once; he had been, all day, very quiet, watching, with that rather clumsy expression of his, the expression of a dog who had been taught by his master some tricks which he had half-forgotten and would presently be expected to remember. When I made my suggestion he flung one look at Marie Ivanovna. She was busied over some piece of luggage, and half-turned her head, smiling at him: "Ah, do go, John--yes? We will be so cr-rowded.... It will be very nice for you driving."