"It is my first evening in society," sighs Mascha. "I looked forward to it so, but if society is always as tedious as to-day--" She sighs inconsolably.

"Great a.s.semblies of people are always disagreeable," he answers. "One can at first not find among the crowd the people one seeks, and must not stay long with them when one has at length found them. At such routs I mostly spend my whole energy in keeping from treading on ladies' trains and being discovered yawning by the hostess. But this evening an exceptional pleasure has been afforded us----"

"Do not speak of it," says Mascha. "My father's playing has given you no pleasure this evening."

Barenburg pulls his mustache.

"Your father's playing is almost too grand; it has a paralyzing effect in a drawing-room," he murmurs.

"Ah, no, it is not that. You should only hear him play when we are quite alone in the same room. Oh! then it is beautiful enough to move one to tears; but this evening I scarcely recognize him." Maschenka interrupts herself and lowers her head.

He is very sorry for her in her wounded, childish pride. He feels the necessity of distracting her in some manner. A brilliant thought comes to him. "Before I forget it," says he, "would the skin of the identical bear in whose arms Nikolai almost perished, give you any pleasure? I possess it."

"Oh!" says Mascha, jubilant, "an indescribable pleasure!" She gives him her hand. Just then Anna, with two very beautiful and elegant Englishwomen, goes through the room. Barenburg rises and goes up to them. Mascha waits for him to return to her. No; he gives his arm to one of the Englishwomen, and escorts them out with Anna. Mascha creeps away. She seeks her father, Colia--any one who really cares for her.

She looks through the portiere into the smoking-room. The whole room is full of smoke; suddenly she hears a laugh which she does not know, rough, harsh.

She looks through the smoke. There sits Lensky in a low chair. Now she sees him plainly, sees him as she had never seen him before. His face is very red. He laughs to himself and strikes his knee with a coa.r.s.e gesture. He is telling some racy story, and with an unpleasant glance presses the hand of a woman who sits near him. How they all crowd round him!

Mascha turns away.

When Nikolai, who has been very busy a.s.sisting his aunt all the evening to do the honors, resting from his labors, stands with Sonia in the vestibule, he hears the light rustle of a silk dress. He looks up.

There, up the stairs, with dragging feet, deeply lowered head, and hand resting heavily on the bal.u.s.trade, goes a little white figure.

"Maschenka," calls Nikolai in Russian, "is anything the matter?"

"No!" answers a voice choked with defiance and grief.

"Will you not at least wait until father goes?" asks Colia.

The little form quivers, a half-suppressed sob escapes her, then she says shortly, violently: "No."

A half-hour later all is quiet, the last guests have vanished, the servants extinguish the lights.

XII.

"Where is Mascha?" asks Lensky, as Nikolai helps him into his overcoat.

"She has retired. Will you go up to her room?"

"No, it is too late," says Lensky, frowning, and adds: "Do you object to walking, Colia? A stroll has charms for me. I never walk in the daytime, for every street boy runs after me; that is vexatious."

Nikolai himself was pleased to breathe some fresh air after the close rooms.

Lensky was in an elevated mood. With head somewhat thrown back, overcoat open, with swinging arms, he walked near his son. Not far from the house two belated wanderers met them. They started at sight of the virtuoso. "Ah, Lensky!" they exclaimed, and stood still. When Lensky looked at them smilingly, although they were not personally acquainted with him, they took off their hats as though he were a crowned head.

Lensky bowed politely, graciously. "It is too absurd," he remarked, walking on. "Not even at two o'clock in the morning can one walk on the street without being recognized. I believe Bismarck and I have the best-known faces in Europe."

Scarcely had he said this when he felt how laughable it was; he is vexed at it, and, as always after his great or small triumphs, now, when the momentary intoxication of it begins to wear off, an embarra.s.sing, suffocating, quite humiliating feeling overcomes him.

All at once he stands still. Nikolai looks at him. He is frightened at the tormented expression of the artist's pale face.

"Are you not well, father?" asks he, taking him by the arm, anxious lest a new attack of giddiness, had overcome him.

"No, no, there is nothing the matter with me."

They had reached the end of the Champs Elysees. "Stop a little," says Lensky. "Sit down on the bench--no, not that one near the light; here in the shadow--and let us talk, that is, if you are not sleepy."

"I? Far from it, father. But you! Remember you leave at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning. You should rest."

"No; I can sleep to-morrow on the train. Sit down."

Nikolai does as his father requests. For a while they are both silent, then Lensky begins:

"Now I think of it, what was the matter with the hysterical enthusiast who fainted that time at my concert in Eden? Mascha told me of her. I thought she was invited this evening."

"She was invited," replied Nikolai.

"So!" murmured Lensky. "And she did not think it worth the trouble to come?"

"She was ill."

"Excuse!" says Lensky. After awhile he begins again. "I was vexed that she did not come. I asked after her. Mascha is quite in love with her.

Who is she?"

"Fraulein von Sankjewitch."

"Sankjewitch, Sankjewitch? Is she a Pole?"

"No; her father was a Sclavonian, her mother was of a Bohemian family."

"So, h-m! You have seen her often?" He looks penetratingly at Nikolai.

"Yes."

"And are you as charmed with her as our little curly-head?"

"I find her very charming," murmurs Nikolai, softly.

"In what a tone you say that!" Lensky lays his hand on his son's arm.

"You are in love, eh?"

Nikolai is silent.

Lensky laughs. "H-m! h-m! It is the first time that I have ever discovered you in any serious enthusiasm. Tell me, now you should be already decided, have you any intentions?"