her with the vulgarest ostentation, as a rich
merchant behaves when he has snatched some priceless picture from a
defeated rival. As he laughed at us he seemed to say: "Now, I have
really a thing of value here. You are, all of you, too stupid to
realise this, but you must take my word for it. Show yourself off, my
dear, and let them all see!"

Marie Ivanovna most certainly did _not_ "show herself off." The
beginning of his trouble was that he could not do with her as he
pleased. She had fallen into his hands so easily that he thought, I
suppose, that "she had been dying of love for him" from the first
moment of seeing him. But this was I believe very far from the truth.
My impression of her acceptance of him was that she had done it "with
her eyes fixed upon something else." That _she_ had not realised all
the consequences of accepting _him_ any more than she had realised the
consequences of her accepting Trenchard was obvious from the first.
She simply was ignorant of life, and at the same time wanted to cram
into her hands the full sense of it (as one crushes rose-leaves) as
quickly as possible. She admired Semyonov--it may be that she loved
him; but she certainly had not surrendered herself to him, and in her
lively ignorant way she was as strong as he.

During the first weeks of her engagement she was, as she had been at
her first arrival amongst us, as happy and light-hearted as a child.
She knew that we disapproved of her treatment of Trenchard, but she
thought that we must see, as she did, that "she had behaved in the
only possible way." Once again she was straight and honest to the
world--and she could behave now like a real friend of her John. That
strange irrational temper that she had shown during the Retreat had
now entirely disappeared. She approved of us all and wished us to
approve of her--which we, as we were Russians and could not possibly
dislike pleasant agreeable people whatever there might be against
them, speedily did. She was charming to us. I can see her now, leaning
her chin on her hands; looking at us, the colour, shell-pink, coming
and going delicately in her cheek, like flame behind china. Her
delicacy, her height, her slender figure, her wide childish eyes, her
charmingly ugly large mouth and short nose, her black hair, the appeal
of her ignorance and strength and credulity--ah! she won our hearts
simply whenever she pleased! Of course we disliked her when she was
rude to us, our self-res