orship in view; he walks
with his back somewhat bent: it must be the cross of the Order of
Vladimir, which has been conferred upon him, that drags him forward. The
official in him has, decidedly, carried the day over the artist; his still
youthful face has turned quite yellow, his hair has grown thin, and he no
longer sings or draws, but secretly occupies himself with literature: he
has written a little comedy, in the nature of "a proverb,"--and, as every
one who writes nowadays "shows up" some one or something, he has shown up
in it a coquette, and he reads it surreptitiously to two or three ladies
who are favourably disposed toward him. But he has not married, although
many fine opportunities of so doing have presented themselves: for this
Varvara Pavlovna is responsible. As for her, she lives uninterruptedly
in Paris, as of yore: Feodor Ivanitch has given her a bill of exchange
on himself, and bought himself free from her,--from the possibility of a
second, unexpected invasion. She has grown old and fat, but it is still
pretty and elegant. Every person has his own ideal: Varvara Pavlovna has
found hers--in the dramatic productions of Dumas fils. She assiduously
frequents the theatre where consumptive and sentimental ladies of the
frail class are put on the stage; to be Mme. Doche seems to her the very
apex of human felicity; one day, she declared that she desired no better
lot for her daughter. It is to be hoped that fate will deliver
Mademoiselle Ada from such felicity: from a rosy, plump child, she has
turned into a weak-chested, pale-faced young girl; her nerves are already
deranged. The number of Varvara Pavlovna's admirers has decreased; but
they have not transferred their allegiance: she will, in all probability,
retain several of them to the end of her life. The most ardent of them, of
late, has been a certain Zakurdalo-Skubyrnikoff, one of the retired
dandies of the Guards, a man of eight and thirty, of remarkably robust
build. The Frenchmen who frequent Mme. Lavretzky's salon call him "_le
gros taureau de l'Ukraine_"; Varvara Pavlovna never invites him to her
fashionable evening gatherings, but he enjoys her favour in the fullest
measure.

So ... eight years have passed. Again the sky is breathing forth the
beaming happiness of spring; again it is smiling upon the earth and upon
men; again, beneath its caress, everything has burst into blossom, into
love and song. The town of O * * * has undergone very little