nhappy she will be!"

But as we said before, the fact of Adelaida's approaching marriage was
balm to the mother. For a whole month she forgot her fears and worries.

Adelaida's fate was settled; and with her name that of Aglaya's was
linked, in society gossip. People whispered that Aglaya, too, was "as
good as engaged;" and Aglaya always looked so sweet and behaved so
well (during this period), that the mother's heart was full of joy. Of
course, Evgenie Pavlovitch must be thoroughly studied first, before
the final step should be taken; but, really, how lovely dear Aglaya had
become--she actually grew more beautiful every day! And then--Yes, and
then--this abominable prince showed his face again, and everything went
topsy-turvy at once, and everyone seemed as mad as March hares.

What had really happened?

If it had been any other family than the Epanchins', nothing particular
would have happened. But, thanks to Mrs. Epanchin's invariable fussiness
and anxiety, there could not be the slightest hitch in the simplest
matters of everyday life, but she immediately foresaw the most dreadful
and alarming consequences, and suffered accordingly.

What then must have been her condition, when, among all the imaginary
anxieties and calamities which so constantly beset her, she now saw
looming ahead a serious cause for annoyance--something really likely to
arouse doubts and suspicions!

"How dared they, how DARED they write that hateful anonymous letter
informing me that Aglaya is in communication with Nastasia Philipovna?"
she thought, as she dragged the prince along towards her own house,
and again when she sat him down at the round table where the family was
already assembled. "How dared they so much as THINK of such a thing? I
should DIE with shame if I thought there was a particle of truth in it,
or if I were to show the letter to Aglaya herself! Who dares play these
jokes upon US, the Epanchins? WHY didn't we go to the Yelagin instead
of coming down here? I TOLD you we had better go to the Yelagin this
summer, Ivan Fedorovitch. It's all your fault. I dare say it was that
Varia who sent the letter. It's all Ivan Fedorovitch. THAT woman is
doing it all for him, I know she is, to show she can make a fool of him
now just as she did when he used to give her pearls.

"But after all is said, we are mixed up in it. Your daughters are mixed
up in it, Ivan Fedorovitch; young ladies in society, young ladies at an
age to be married