maid,
More comely thou than e'er a flow'r!
The nurse's son doth pine for thee,
And yearn to serve thee every hour!

"What does that ditty mean?" I inquired.

Kalinin straightened himself, gave a wriggle to a form that was as
lithe as a lizard's, and passed one hand over his face.

"It is a certain composition," he replied presently. "It is a
composition that was composed by a military clerk who afterwards died
of consumption. He was my friend his life long, and my only friend, and
a true one, besides being a man out of the common."

"And who was Valentina?"

"My one-time mistress," Kalinin spoke unwillingly.

"And he, the clerk--was he in love with her?"

"Oh dear no!"

Evidently Kalinin had no particular wish to discuss the subject, for he
hugged himself together, buried his face in his hands, and muttered:

"I should like to kindle a fire, were it not that everything in the
place is too damp for the purpose."

The wind shook the trees, and whistled despondently, while the fine,
persistent rain still whipped the earth.

"I but humble am, and poor, Nor fated to be otherwise,"

sang Kalinin softly as, flinging up his head with an unexpected
movement, he added meaningly:

"Yes, it is a mournful song, a song which could move to tears. Only to
two persons has it ever been known; to my friend the clerk and to
myself. Yes, and to HER, though I need hardly add that at once she
forgot it."

And Kalinin's eyes flashed into a smile as he added:

"I think that, as a young man, you had better learn forthwith where the
greatest danger lurks in life. Let me tell you a story."

And upon that a very human tale filtered through the silken monotonous
swish of the downpour, with, for listeners to it, only the rain and
myself.

"Lukianov was NEVER in love with her," he narrated. "Only I was that.
All that Lukianov did in the matter was to write, at my request, some
verses. When she first appeared on the scene (I mean Valentina
Ignatievna) I was just turned nineteen years of age; and the instant
that my eyes fell upon her form I realised that in her alone lay my
fate, and my heart almost stopped beating, and my vitality stretched
out towards her as a speck of dust flies towards a fire. Yet all this I
had to conceal as best I might; with the result that in the company's
presence I felt like a sentry doing guard duty in the presence of his
commanding officer. But at last, though I strove to pull myself
together,