She smiled as she uttered his pet name, “Andrúsha.” It was obviously strange to her to think that this stern handsome man should be Andrúsha⁠—the slender mischievous boy who had been her playfellow in childhood.

“And where is Liza?” he asked, answering her question only by a smile.

“She was so tired that she has fallen asleep on the sofa in my room. Oh, André! What a treasure of a wife you have,” said she, sitting down on the sofa, facing her brother. “She is quite a child: such a dear, merry child. I have grown so fond of her.”

Prince Andréy was silent, but the princess noticed the ironical and contemptuous look that showed itself on his face.