This was the most inveterate and bitterest scandal-monger in the town. She took her stand on the fact that she was a Colonel’s wife, though she often fought with her husband, the Colonel, and scratched his face handsomely on such occasions. Add to this, that it was her custom to drink four glasses of “vodki” at lunch, or earlier, and four more in the evening; and that she hated Mrs. Antipova to madness. “I’ve just come in for a minute, _mon ange_,” she panted; “it’s no use sitting down—no time! I wanted to let you know what’s going on, simply that the whole town has gone mad over this prince. Our ‘beauties,’ you know what I mean! are all after him, fishing for him, pulling him about, giving him champagne—you would not believe it! _would_ you now? How on earth you could ever have let him out of the house, I can’t understand! Are you aware that he’s at Natalia Dimitrievna’s at this moment?” “At _Natalia Dimitrievna’s_?” cried Maria Alexandrovna jumping up. “Why, he was only going to see the Governor, and then call in for one moment at the Antipova’s!” “Oh, yes, just for one moment—of course! Well, catch him if you can, there! That’s all I can say. He found the Governor ‘out,’ and went on to Mrs. Antipova’s, where he has promised to dine. There Natalia caught him—she is never away from Mrs. Antipova nowadays,—and persuaded him to come away with her to lunch. So there’s your prince! catch him if you can!” “But how—Mosgliakoff’s with him—he promised—” “Mosgliakoff, indeed,—why, he’s gone too! and they’ll be playing at cards and clearing him out before he knows where he is! And the things Natalia is saying, too—out loud if you please! She’s telling the prince to his face that you, _you_ have got hold of him with certain views—_vous comprenez_?” “She calmly tells him this to his face! Of course he doesn’t understand a word of it, and simply sits there like a soaked cat, and says ‘Ye—yes!’ And would you believe it, she has trotted out her Sonia—a girl of fifteen, in a dress down to her knees—my word on it? Then she has sent for that little orphan—Masha; she’s in a short dress too,—why, I swear it doesn’t reach her knees. I looked at it carefully through my pince-nez! She’s stuck red caps with some sort of feathers in them on their heads, and set them to dance some silly dance to the piano accompaniment for the prince’s benefit! You know his little weakness as to our sex,—well, you can imagine him staring at them through his glass and saying, ‘_Charmant!_—What figures!’ Tfu! They’ve turned the place into a music hall! Call that a dance! I was at school at Madame Jarne’s, I know, and there were plenty of princesses and countesses there with me, too; and I know I danced before senators and councillors, and earned their applause, too: but as for this dance—it’s a low can-can, and nothing more! I simply _burned_ with shame,—I couldn’t stand it, and came out.” “How! have you been at Natalia Dimitrievna’s? Why, you——!”