Next morning, very early, Marya dressed herself and went to the imperial gardens. She saw a lady seated on a little rustic bench near the large lake, and went and seated herself at the other end of the bench. The lady wore a cap and a white morning gown, and a light cloak. She appeared to be about fifty years old, and the repose and gravity of her face, and the sweetness of her blue eyes and her smile, all attracted Marya and inspired confidence. The lady was the first to speak. "You do not belong to this place?" "No, madame. I only arrived yesterday from the country." "You came with your parents?" "No, madame, alone. I have neither father nor mother." "You are very young to travel by yourself. You have come on business?" "Yes, madame. I have come to present a petition to the tzarina." "You are an orphan. It is some injustice or wrong you complain of? What is your name?" "I am the daughter of Captain Mironoff, and it is for mercy I have come to ask." "Captain Mironoff? He commanded one of the forts in the Orenburg district?" "Yes, madame." The lady seemed moved. "Forgive me," she said, speaking even more gently, "if I meddle in your affairs; but I am going to court. Perhaps if you explain to me what it is you want, I may be able to help you." Marya rose and curtsied; then she took from her pocket a folded paper, and handed it to her protectress, who read it over. Suddenly the gentleness turned to hardness in the face of the unknown lady. "You plead for Peter Grineff!" she said coldly. "The tzarina cannot grant him mercy. He passed over to this rebel not in ignorance, but because he is depraved." "It is not true!" cried Marya. "Before God it is not true! I know all; I will tell you everything. It was only on my account that he exposed himself to the misfortunes which have overtaken him. And if he did not vindicate himself before the judges, it was because he did not wish me to be mixed up in the affair." And Marya went on to relate all that had taken place at Bélogorsk. When she had finished, the lady asked her where she lodged, and told her she would not have to wait long for an answer to the letter. Marya went back to the post-house full of hope, and presently, to the consternation of her hostess, a lackey in the imperial livery entered and announced that the tzarina condescended to summon to her presence the daughter of Captain Mironoff. "Good heavens!" cried the postmaster's wife. "The tzarina summons you to court! And I'm sure you don't even know how to walk in court fashion. Shall I send for a dressmaker I know who will lend you her yellow gown with flounces? I think I ought to take you."