ion. Just as Boris' leave of
absence was expiring, Anatole Kuragin made his appearance in Moscow, and
of course in the Karagins' drawing room, and Julie, suddenly abandoning
her melancholy, became cheerful and very attentive to Kuragin.

"My dear," said Anna Mikhaylovna to her son, "I know from a reliable
source that Prince Vasili has sent his son to Moscow to get him married
to Julie. I am so fond of Julie that I should be sorry for her. What do
you think of it, my dear?"

The idea of being made a fool of and of having thrown away that whole
month of arduous melancholy service to Julie, and of seeing all the
revenue from the Penza estates which he had already mentally apportioned
and put to proper use fall into the hands of another, and especially
into the hands of that idiot Anatole, pained Boris. He drove to the
Karagins' with the firm intention of proposing. Julie met him in a gay,
careless manner, spoke casually of how she had enjoyed yesterday's ball,
and asked when he was leaving. Though Boris had come intentionally to
speak of his love and therefore meant to be tender, he began speaking
irritably of feminine inconstancy, of how easily women can turn from
sadness to joy, and how their moods depend solely on who happens to be
paying court to them. Julie was offended and replied that it was true
that a woman needs variety, and the same thing over and over again would
weary anyone.

"Then I should advise you..." Boris began, wishing to sting her; but at
that instant the galling thought occurred to him that he might have to
leave Moscow without having accomplished his aim, and have vainly wasted
his efforts--which was a thing he never allowed to happen.

He checked himself in the middle of the sentence, lowered his eyes to
avoid seeing her unpleasantly irritated and irresolute face, and said:

"I did not come here at all to quarrel with you. On the contrary..."

He glanced at her to make sure that he might go on. Her irritability had
suddenly quite vanished, and her anxious, imploring eyes were fixed on
him with greedy expectation. "I can always arrange so as not to see her
often," thought Boris. "The affair has been begun and must be finished!"
He blushed hotly, raised his eyes to hers, and said:

"You know my feelings for you!"

There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and
self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on such
occasions--that he loved her and had never