This evening there were no strangers present—no one but the immediate members of the family. Prince S⸺ was still in town, occupied with the affairs of Evgenie Pavlovitch’s uncle.
“I wish at least he would come and say something!” complained poor Lizabetha Prokofievna.
The general sat still with a most preoccupied air. The sisters were looking very serious and did not speak a word, and Lizabetha Prokofievna did not know how to commence the conversation.
At length she plunged into an energetic and hostile criticism of railways, and glared at the prince defiantly.
Alas Aglaya still did not come—and the prince was quite lost. He had the greatest difficulty in expressing his opinion that railways were most useful institutions—and in the middle of his speech Adelaida laughed, which threw him into a still worse state of confusion.
At this moment in marched Aglaya, as calm and collected as could be. She gave the prince a ceremonious bow and solemnly took up a prominent position near the big round table. She looked at the prince questioningly.
All present realized that the moment for the settlement of perplexities had arrived.
“Did you get my hedgehog?” she inquired, firmly and almost angrily.
“Yes, I got it,” said the prince, blushing.