enly appeared before him, much agitated.

"I have long sought the honour and opportunity of meeting
you--much-esteemed Lef Nicolaievitch," he murmured, pressing the
prince's hand very hard, almost painfully so; "long--very long."

The prince begged him to step in and sit down.

"No--I will not sit down,--I am keeping you, I see,--another time!--I
think I may be permitted to congratulate you upon the realization of
your heart's best wishes, is it not so?"

"What best wishes?"

The prince blushed. He thought, as so many in his position do, that
nobody had seen, heard, noticed, or understood anything.

"Oh--be easy, sir, be easy! I shall not wound your tenderest feelings.
I've been through it all myself, and I know well how unpleasant it is
when an outsider sticks his nose in where he is not wanted. I experience
this every morning. I came to speak to you about another matter, though,
an important matter. A very important matter, prince."

The latter requested him to take a seat once more, and sat down himself.

"Well--just for one second, then. The fact is, I came for advice. Of
course I live now without any very practical objects in life; but,
being full of self-respect, in which quality the ordinary Russian is so
deficient as a rule, and of activity, I am desirous, in a word, prince,
of placing myself and my wife and children in a position of--in fact, I
want advice."

The prince commended his aspirations with warmth.

"Quite so--quite so! But this is all mere nonsense. I came here to speak
of something quite different, something very important, prince. And
I have determined to come to you as to a man in whose sincerity and
nobility of feeling I can trust like--like--are you surprised at my
words, prince?"

The prince was watching his guest, if not with much surprise, at all
events with great attention and curiosity.

The old man was very pale; every now and then his lips trembled, and his
hands seemed unable to rest quietly, but continually moved from place to
place. He had twice already jumped up from his chair and sat down again
without being in the least aware of it. He would take up a hook from
the table and open it--talking all the while,--look at the heading of a
chapter, shut it and put it back again, seizing another immediately, but
holding it unopened in his hand, and waving it in the air as he spoke.

"But enough!" he cried, suddenly. "I see I have been boring you with
my--"

"Not in the least