It was evident the Count’s second letter was not unpleasant, for he smiled as he read it.

“Who is it from?” asked Pólozof, when he returned to the room and began arranging a sleeping-place for himself on some boards by the oven.

“From Mína,” answered the Count gaily, handing him the letter. “Do you want to see it? What a delightful woman she is!⁠ ⁠… Really now, she’s better than our young ladies.⁠ ⁠… Just see how much feeling and wit there is in that letter. Only one thing is bad⁠—she’s asking for money.”

“Yes, that’s bad,” said the Cornet.

“It is true I promised her some, but then this campaign came on, and besides.⁠ ⁠… However, if I remain in command of the squadron another three months I’ll send her some. It’s worth it, really; such a charming creature, eh?” said he, watching the expression on Pólozof’s face as the latter read the letter.