In May we moved to Petrovski Palace, and on the last days of June Sergy went to review the troops at Yaroslaw. During his absence, I was invited by my aunt, Princess Leon Galitzine, to spend a week with her at Doubrovo, her splendid estate situated in the government of Kalouga. I welcomed the opportunity that was offered to me and accepted my aunt’s invitation with pleasure. Another aunt of mine, Princess Safira Galitzine, was also going to Doubrovo and proposed to chaperon me. On our way there, great was my surprise to meet at one of the railway stations, Stenger, one of my old admirers of whom I had not heard for years. We both gave a violent start, and I uttered an exclamation of surprise: “Where on earth did you fall from?” I asked. My appearance nearly deprived Stenger of speech, then he took my hand and devoured it with kisses, much to the indignation of my aunt who was of the opinion that a married woman shares the dignity of her husband and, like Cæsar’s wife, should be above suspicion of even the slightest flirtation. Whilst we paced up and down the platform, a pretty flood of eloquence rose to Stenger’s lips, and I was aware that the constancy of his heart was as great as ever, and that he was still my devoted servant. He said with a quiver in his voice, looking me full in the face and nervously tormenting his very slight moustache, that after my marriage he had been moved to the desperate resolution to marry also; but it did not help him to forget me, and that all these years he did his best to tear the thought of me out of his heart and could not. But I didn’t love him, all the difference was there. I only shrugged indifferent shoulders and responded to his passionate eloquence with six degrees of frost. “Fiddle-de-dee! old times are better left alone,” I replied, looking upon his dismayed countenance with a cheerfulness which rather hurt his feelings. “Why do you treat me like this?” asked poor Stenger, looking very miserable and crestfallen. Really I am afraid I’ve been rather rude, to hurt anybody was quite contrary to my nature; I called myself a monster of ingratitude and tried to be more friendly towards him. I ought to be grateful indeed for he was a faithful being! Wishing, nevertheless, to get away from my impetuous lover, I hastened into my car. In bidding good-bye, Stenger captured my hands and squeezed them so horribly that he left the print of my rings on my fingers. He stood in a drooping attitude under my window, staring at me with eyes objectionably mournful and looking the very picture of despair. The train moved on and Stenger’s pale face was lost to sight; life had separated us for the second time! He was completely brushed away from my memory, and the whole episode fell away from my mind like breath from a mirror.