Just at first father seemed displeased. No, not exactly displeased, but sad, not quite himself. I know him. Just as though he did not like him. I cannot understand it; I am not the only one. It is not because I am engaged to him, but nobility, truthfulness, and purity are so clearly written all over his being that one could not find more of them anywhere. It is evident that what is in his mind is on his tongue: he has nothing to hide. He only hides his own noble qualities. He will not, he cannot bear to speak of his Sevastopol exploits, nor about Michel. He blushed when I spoke of him. I thank Thee, Lord. I desire nothing, nothing more.

Lutkovsky went to Moscow to make preparations for the wedding. He stopped at the chevalier, and there on the stairway he met Souschov. “Ah, Alexis, is it true that you are going to get married?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“I congratulate you. I know them. It is a charming family. I knew your bride too. She is beautiful. Let us have dinner together.”