erstanding, we
are in no way bound on either side, but the word may be said very soon,
don't you see, VERY soon, and all this is most injurious, and is meant
to be so. Why? I'm sure I can't tell you. She's an extraordinary woman,
you see, an eccentric woman; I tell you I am so frightened of that woman
that I can't sleep. What a carriage that was, and where did it come
from, eh? I declare, I was base enough to suspect Evgenie at first; but
it seems certain that that cannot be the case, and if so, why is she
interfering here? That's the riddle, what does she want? Is it to keep
Evgenie to herself? But, my dear fellow, I swear to you, I swear he
doesn't even KNOW her, and as for those bills, why, the whole thing is
an invention! And the familiarity of the woman! It's quite clear we must
treat the impudent creature's attempt with disdain, and redouble our
courtesy towards Evgenie. I told my wife so.

"Now I'll tell you my secret conviction. I'm certain that she's doing
this to revenge herself on me, on account of the past, though I assure
you that all the time I was blameless. I blush at the very idea. And
now she turns up again like this, when I thought she had finally
disappeared! Where's Rogojin all this time? I thought she was Mrs.
Rogojin, long ago."

The old man was in a state of great mental perturbation. The whole of
the journey, which occupied nearly an hour, he continued in this strain,
putting questions and answering them himself, shrugging his shoulders,
pressing the prince's hand, and assuring the latter that, at all
events, he had no suspicion whatever of HIM. This last assurance was
satisfactory, at all events. The general finished by informing him that
Evgenie's uncle was head of one of the civil service departments, and
rich, very rich, and a gourmand. "And, well, Heaven preserve him, of
course--but Evgenie gets his money, don't you see? But, for all this,
I'm uncomfortable, I don't know why. There's something in the air, I
feel there's something nasty in the air, like a bat, and I'm by no means
comfortable."

And it was not until the third day that the formal reconciliation
between the prince and the Epanchins took place, as said before.

XII.

IT was seven in the evening, and the prince was just preparing to go
out for a walk in the park, when suddenly Mrs. Epanchin appeared on the
terrace.

"In the first place, don't dare to suppose," she began, "that I am going
to apologize. Nonsense! You were e