When the general believed himself to be alone, he knocked once; but all was silent. This silence, however, proved nothing; for Vaninka might be asleep. He knocked a second time, and the young girl, in a perfectly calm voice, asked, “Who is there?” “It is I,” said the general, in a voice trembling with emotion. “Annouschka!” said the girl to her foster-sister, who slept in the adjoining room, “open the door to my father. Forgive me, father,” she continued; “but Annouschka is dressing, and will be with you in a moment.” The general waited patiently, for he could discover no trace of emotion in his daughter’s voice, and he hoped that Gregory had been mistaken. In a few moments the door opened, and the general went in, and cast a long look around him; there was no one in this first apartment. Vaninka was in bed, paler perhaps than usual, but quite calm, with the loving smile on her lips with which she always welcomed her father. “To what fortunate circumstance,” asked the young girl in her softest tones, “do I owe the pleasure of seeing you at so late an hour?” “I wished to speak to you about a very important matter,” said the general, “and however late it was, I thought you would forgive me for disturbing you.” “My father will always be welcome in his daughter’s room, at whatever hour of the day or night he presents himself there.” The general cast another searching look round, and was convinced that it was impossible for a man to be concealed in the first room—but the second still remained. “I am listening,” said Vaninka, after a moment of silence. “Yes, but we are not alone,” replied the general, “and it is important that no other ears should hear what I have to say to you.” “Annauschka, as you know, is my foster-sister,” said Vaninka. “That makes no difference,” said the general, going candle in hand into the next room, which was somewhat smaller than his daughter’s. “Annouschka,” said he, “watch in the corridor and see that no one overhears us.” As he spoke these words, the general threw the same scrutinizing glance all round the room, but with the exception of the young girl there was no one there. Annouschka obeyed, and the general followed her out, and, looking eagerly round for the last time, re-entered his daughter’s room, and seated himself on the foot of her bed. Annouschka, at a sign from her mistress, left her alone with her father. The general held out his hand to Vaninka, and she took it without hesitation. “My child,” said the general, “I have to speak to you about a very important matter.” “What is it, father?” said Vaninka. “You will soon be eighteen,” continued the general, “and that is the age at which the daughters of the Russian nobility usually marry.” The general paused for a moment to watch the effect of these words upon Vaninka, but her hand rested motionless in his. “For the last year your hand has been engaged by me,” continued the general. “May I know to whom?” asked Vaninka coldly.