; they were present, they heard everything there was to
hear. They were mixed up with that other scene, too, with those dreadful
youths. You must be pleased to remember they heard it all. I cannot
forgive that wretched prince. I never shall forgive him! And why, if you
please, has Aglaya had an attack of nerves for these last three
days? Why has she all but quarrelled with her sisters, even with
Alexandra--whom she respects so much that she always kisses her hands as
though she were her mother? What are all these riddles of hers that we
have to guess? What has Gavrila Ardalionovitch to do with it? Why did
she take upon herself to champion him this morning, and burst into tears
over it? Why is there an allusion to that cursed 'poor knight' in the
anonymous letter? And why did I rush off to him just now like a lunatic,
and drag him back here? I do believe I've gone mad at last. What on
earth have I done now? To talk to a young man about my daughter's
secrets--and secrets having to do with himself, too! Thank goodness,
he's an idiot, and a friend of the house! Surely Aglaya hasn't fallen in
love with such a gaby! What an idea! Pfu! we ought all to be put under
glass cases--myself first of all--and be shown off as curiosities, at
ten copecks a peep!"

"I shall never forgive you for all this, Ivan Fedorovitch--never! Look
at her now. Why doesn't she make fun of him? She said she would, and she
doesn't. Look there! She stares at him with all her eyes, and doesn't
move; and yet she told him not to come. He looks pale enough; and that
abominable chatterbox, Evgenie Pavlovitch, monopolizes the whole of the
conversation. Nobody else can get a word in. I could soon find out all
about everything if I could only change the subject."

The prince certainly was very pale. He sat at the table and seemed to be
feeling, by turns, sensations of alarm and rapture.

Oh, how frightened he was of looking to one side--one particular
corner--whence he knew very well that a pair of dark eyes were watching
him intently, and how happy he was to think that he was once more among
them, and occasionally hearing that well-known voice, although she had
written and forbidden him to come again!

"What on earth will she say to me, I wonder?" he thought to himself.

He had not said a word yet; he sat silent and listened to Evgenie
Pavlovitch's eloquence. The latter had never appeared so happy and
excited as on this evening. The prince listened to him, b