The old Countess Anna Fedotovna was in her dressing-room, seated before her looking-glass. Three maids were in attendance. One held her pot of rouge, another a box of black pins, a third an enormous lace cap, with flaming ribbons. The Countess had no longer the slightest pretence to beauty, but she preserved all the habits of her youth. She dressed in the style of fifty years before, and gave as much time and attention to her toilet as a fashionable beauty of the last century. Her companion was working at a frame in a corner of the window. "Good morning, grandmother," said the young officer, as he entered the dressing-room. "Good morning, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmother, I have come to ask you a favour." "What is it, Paul?" "I want to introduce to you one of my friends, and to ask you to give him an invitation to your ball." "Bring him to the ball and introduce him to me there. Did you go yesterday to the Princess's?" "Certainly. It was delightful! We danced until five o'clock in the morning. Mademoiselle Eletzki was charming." "My dear nephew, you are really not difficult to please. As to beauty, you should have seen her grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna. But she must be very old, the Princess Daria Petrovna!" "How do you mean old?" cried Tomski thoughtlessly; "she died seven years ago." The young lady who acted as companion raised her head and made a sign to the officer, who then remembered that it was an understood thing to conceal from the Princess the death of any of her contemporaries. He bit his lips. The Countess, however, was not in any way disturbed on hearing that her old friend was no longer in this world. "Dead!" she said, "and I never knew it! We were maids of honour in the same year, and when we were presented, the Empress"--and the old Countess related for the hundredth time an anecdote of her young days. "Paul," she said, as she finished her story, "help me to get up. Lisabeta, where is my snuff-box?" And, followed by the three maids, she went behind a great screen to finish her toilet. Tomski was now alone with the companion. "Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to madame?" asked Lisabeta. "Naroumoff. Do you know him?" "No. Is he in the army?" "Yes." "In the Engineers?" "No, in the Horse Guards. Why did you think he was in the Engineers?" The young lady smiled, but made no answer. "Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me a new novel; no matter what. Only see that it is not in the style of the present day." "What style would you like, grandmother?" "A novel in which the hero strangles neither his father nor his mother, and in which no one gets drowned. Nothing frightens me so much as the idea of getting drowned." "But how is it possible to find you such a book? Do you want it in Russian?" "Are there any novels in Russian? However, send me something or other. You won't forget?"