ce as a childish amusement. It was said
she had studied singing at the Petersburg Conservatoire, and even
sang for a whole winter in a private opera. I thought her very
charming, and I usually watched her through the rehearsals and
performances without taking my eyes off her.

I had just picked up the manuscript book to begin prompting when
my sister suddenly made her appearance. Without taking off her cloak
or hat, she came up to me and said:

"Come along, I beg you."

I went with her. Anyuta Blagovo, also in her hat and wearing a dark
veil, was standing behind the scenes at the door. She was the
daughter of the Assistant President of the Court, who had held that
office in our town almost ever since the establishment of the circuit
court. Since she was tall and had a good figure, her assistance was
considered indispensable for _tableaux vivants_, and when she
represented a fairy or something like Glory her face burned with
shame; but she took no part in dramatic performances, and came to
the rehearsals only for a moment on some special errand, and did
not go into the hall. Now, too, it was evident that she had only
looked in for a minute.

"My father was speaking about you," she said drily, blushing and
not looking at me. "Dolzhikov has promised you a post on the
railway-line. Apply to him to-morrow; he will be at home."

I bowed and thanked her for the trouble she had taken.

"And you can give up this," she said, indicating the exercise book.

My sister and she went up to Madame Azhogin and for two minutes
they were whispering with her looking towards me; they were consulting
about something.

"Yes, indeed," said Madame Azhogin, softly coming up to me and
looking intently into my face. "Yes, indeed, if this distracts you
from serious pursuits"--she took the manuscript book from my hands
--"you can hand it over to someone else; don't distress yourself,
my friend, go home, and good luck to you."

I said good-bye to her, and went away overcome with confusion. As
I went down the stairs I saw my sister and Anyuta Blagovo going
away; they were hastening along, talking eagerly about something,
probably about my going into the railway service. My sister had
never been at a rehearsal before, and now she was most likely
conscience-stricken, and afraid her father might find out that,
without his permission, she had been to the Azhogins'!

I went to Dolzhikov's next day between twelve and one. The footman
conducted