“Why, this is a palace!” she said to her husband, looking around with the expression with which people compliment their host at a ball. “Let’s come, quick, quick!” And with a glance round, she smiled at Tíkhon, at her husband, and at the footman who accompanied them.

“Is that Marie practicing? Let’s go quietly and take her by surprise.”

Prince Andréy followed her with a courteous but sad expression.

“You’ve grown older, Tíkhon,” he said in passing to the old man, who kissed his hand.

Before they reached the room from which the sounds of the clavichord came, the pretty, fair-haired Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Bourienne, rushed out apparently beside herself with delight.

“Ah! what joy for the princess!” exclaimed she: “At last! I must let her know.”