ould he not come and see me in person?" went on his
host. "Possibly I might be able to furnish him with much interesting
material?"

"He is afraid to come, your Excellency."

"Nonsense! Just because of a hasty word or two! I am not that sort of
man at all. In fact, I should be very happy to call upon HIM."

"Never would he permit that, your Excellency. He would greatly prefer to
be the first to make advances." And Chichikov added to himself: "What a
stroke of luck those Generals were! Otherwise, the Lord knows where my
tongue might have landed me!"

At this moment the door into the adjoining room opened, and there
appeared in the doorway a girl as fair as a ray of the sun--so fair,
indeed, that Chichikov stared at her in amazement. Apparently she had
come to speak to her father for a moment, but had stopped short on
perceiving that there was some one with him. The only fault to be
found in her appearance was the fact that she was too thin and
fragile-looking.

"May I introduce you to my little pet?" said the General to Chichikov.
"To tell you the truth, I do not know your name."

"That you should be unacquainted with the name of one who has never
distinguished himself in the manner of which you yourself can boast is
scarcely to be wondered at." And Chichikov executed one of his sidelong,
deferential bows.

"Well, I should be delighted to know it."

"It is Paul Ivanovitch Chichikov, your Excellency." With that went
the easy bow of a military man and the agile backward movement of an
india-rubber ball.

"Ulinka, this is Paul Ivanovitch," said the General, turning to his
daughter. "He has just told me some interesting news--namely, that
our neighbour Tientietnikov is not altogether the fool we had at first
thought him. On the contrary, he is engaged upon a very important
work--upon a history of the Russian Generals of 1812."

"But who ever supposed him to be a fool?" asked the girl quickly. "What
happened was that you took Vishnepokromov's word--the word of a man who
is himself both a fool and a good-for-nothing."

"Well, well," said the father after further good-natured dispute on the
subject of Vishnepokromov. "Do you now run away, for I wish to dress for
luncheon. And you, sir," he added to Chichikov, "will you not join us at
table?"

Chichikov bowed so low and so long that, by the time that his eyes had
ceased to see nothing but his own boots, the General's daughter had
disappeared, and in her place was