The voice of a footman, whose tall black figure was conspicuous in the doorway against a background of splashing rain, answered from the steps, with respectful insolence, that my lady was waiting for him in the carriage. Paul, though choking with rage, managed to get out the words, ‘I am coming,’ But what horrid curses he muttered under his breath! The dead fellow again! Sure enough, it was the remembrance of him that had kept her away. But after a few seconds the hope of avenging himself before long in a highly amusing way enabled him so far to recover countenance, that when he joined the Princess he was as cool as ever, and showed nothing of his anger but a little extra paleness in the cheek. It was warm in the brougham, the windows having been put up because of the shower. Huge bouquets of violets and wreaths as heavy as pies loaded the cushions round Madame de Rosen and filled her lap. ‘Are the flowers unpleasant? Shall I put the window down?’ said she, with the cajoling manner which a woman puts on when she has played you a trick and wants not to have a quarrel over it. Paul’s gesture expressed a dignified indifference. It was nothing to him whether the window was put down or put up. The Princess, whose deep veil, still worn on such occasions as the present, concealed a blooming face, felt more uncomfortable than if he had reproached her openly. Poor young man! She was treating him so cruelly--so much more cruelly than he knew! She laid her hand gently upon his, and said, ‘You are not angry with me?’ He? Not at all. Why should he be angry with her? ‘For not coming in. I did say I would, but at the last moment I--I did not think I should hurt you so much.’ ‘You hurt me very much indeed.’ When a gentleman of severely correct deportment is betrayed into a word or two of emotion, oh, what an impression they make upon a woman’s heart! They upset her almost as much as the tears of an officer in uniform. ‘No, no,’ she said, ‘please, please do not distress yourself any more about me. Please say that you are not angry now.’ As she spoke she leaned quite close to him, letting her flowers slip down. She felt quite safe with two broad black backs and two black cockades visible on the box under a large umbrella. ‘Look,’ she went on; ‘I promise you to come once--at least once--before----’ but here she stopped in dismay. Carried away by her feelings, she was on the point of telling him that they were soon to part, and that she was going to St. Petersburg. Recovering herself in a moment, she declared emphatically that she would call unannounced some afternoon when she was not going to visit the mausoleum.