y the beating of her heart
that gratified pride was changing into a more tender sentiment, and that
for her part she loved Foedor as much as it was possible for her to love
anyone.

She had nevertheless concealed these feelings under an appearance of
haughty indifference, for Vaninka was made so: she intended to let Foedor
know some day that she loved him, but until the time came when it pleased
her to reveal it, she did not wish the young man to discover her love.
Things went on in this way for several months, and the circumstances
which had at first appeared to Foedor as the height of happiness soon
became awful torture.

To love and to feel his heart ever on the point of avowing its love, to
be from morning till night in the company of the beloved one, to meet her
hand at the table, to touch her dress in a narrow corridor, to feel her
leaning on his arm when they entered a salon or left a ballroom, always
to have ceaselessly to control every word, look, or movement which might
betray his feelings, no human power could endure such a struggle.

Vaninka saw that Foedor could not keep his secret much longer, and
determined to anticipate the avowal which she saw every moment on the
point of escaping his heart.

One day when they were alone, and she saw the hopeless efforts the young
man was making to hide his feelings from her, she went straight up to
him, and, looking at him fixedly, said:

"You love me!"

"Forgive me, forgive me," cried the young man, clasping his hands.

"Why should you ask me to forgive you, Foedor? Is not your love
genuine?"

"Yes, yes, genuine but hopeless."

"Why hopeless? Does not my father love you as a son?" said Vaninka.

"Oh, what do you mean?" cried Foedor. "Do you mean that if your father
will bestow your hand upon me, that you will then consent--?"

"Are you not both noble in heart and by birth, Foedor? You are not
wealthy, it is true, but then I am rich enough for both."

"Then I am not indifferent to you?"

"I at least prefer you to anyone else I have met."

"Vaninka!" The young girl drew herself away proudly.

"Forgive me!" said Foedor. "What am I doing? You have but to order: I
have no wish apart from you. I dread lest I shall offend you. Tell me
what to do, and I will obey."

"The first thing you must do, Foedor, is to ask my father's consent."

"So you will allow me to take this step?"

"Yes, but on one condition."

"What is it? Tell me."

"My father,