ny with which she was introducing her
recitation of the poem.

Mrs. Epanchin was just wondering whether she would not forbid the
performance after all, when, at the very moment that Aglaya commenced
her declamation, two new guests, both talking loudly, entered from the
street. The new arrivals were General Epanchin and a young man.

Their entrance caused some slight commotion.

VII.

THE young fellow accompanying the general was about twenty-eight, tall,
and well built, with a handsome and clever face, and bright black eyes,
full of fun and intelligence.

Aglaya did not so much as glance at the new arrivals, but went on with
her recitation, gazing at the prince the while in an affected manner,
and at him alone. It was clear to him that she was doing all this with
some special object.

But the new guests at least somewhat eased his strained and
uncomfortable position. Seeing them approaching, he rose from his chair,
and nodding amicably to the general, signed to him not to interrupt the
recitation. He then got behind his chair, and stood there with his left
hand resting on the back of it. Thanks to this change of position,
he was able to listen to the ballad with far less embarrassment than
before. Mrs. Epanchin had also twice motioned to the new arrivals to be
quiet, and stay where they were.

The prince was much interested in the young man who had just entered. He
easily concluded that this was Evgenie Pavlovitch Radomski, of whom he
had already heard mention several times. He was puzzled, however, by the
young man's plain clothes, for he had always heard of Evgenie Pavlovitch
as a military man. An ironical smile played on Evgenie's lips all the
while the recitation was proceeding, which showed that he, too, was
probably in the secret of the 'poor knight' joke. But it had become
quite a different matter with Aglaya. All the affectation of manner
which she had displayed at the beginning disappeared as the ballad
proceeded. She spoke the lines in so serious and exalted a manner, and
with so much taste, that she even seemed to justify the exaggerated
solemnity with which she had stepped forward. It was impossible to
discern in her now anything but a deep feeling for the spirit of the
poem which she had undertaken to interpret.

Her eyes were aglow with inspiration, and a slight tremor of rapture
passed over her lovely features once or twice. She continued to recite:

"Once there came a vision glorious, Mystic,