ination. He began walking up and down before the
house, thinking of its owner and her strange secret. Returning late to
his modest lodging, he could not go to sleep for a long time, and when
at last he did doze off, he could dream of nothing but cards, green
tables, piles of banknotes, and heaps of ducats. He played one card
after the other, winning uninterruptedly, and then he gathered up the
gold and filled his pockets with the notes. When he woke up late the
next morning, he sighed over the loss of his imaginary wealth, and
then sallying out into the town, he found himself once more in front
of the Countess's residence. Some unknown power seemed to have
attracted him thither. He stopped and looked up at the windows. At one
of these he saw a head with luxuriant black hair, which was bent down,
probably over some book or an embroidery frame. The head was raised.
Hermann saw a fresh complexion, and a pair of dark eyes. That moment
decided his fate.
III
Lizaveta Ivanovna had scarcely taken off her hat and cloak, when the
Countess sent for her, and again ordered her to get the carriage
ready. The vehicle drew up before the door, and they prepared to take
their seats. Just at the moment when two footmen were assisting the
old lady to enter the carriage, Lizaveta saw her Engineer standing
close beside the wheel; he grasped her hand; alarm caused her to lose
her presence of mind, and the young man disappeared--but not before he
had left a letter between her fingers. She concealed it in her glove,
and during the whole of the drive she neither saw nor heard anything.
It was the custom of the Countess, when out for an airing in her
carriage, to be constantly asking such questions as "Who was that
person that met us just now? What is the name of this bridge? What is
written on that sign-board?" On this occasion, however, Lizaveta
returned such vague and absurd answers, that the Countess became angry
with her.
"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she exclaimed. "Have you taken
leave of your senses, or what is it? Do you not hear me or understand
what I say? Heaven be thanked, I am still in my right mind and speak
plainly enough!"
Lizaveta Ivanovna did not hear her. On returning home she ran to her
room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed.
Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it was
tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German novel. But
Lizaveta did not kn
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