ow, the room was
filled with the fragrance of the flowers growing in the modest little
front-garden. Branches of bloom-laden bird-cherry trees peep in at my
window, and now and again the breeze bestrews my writing-table with
their white petals. The view which meets my gaze on three sides is
wonderful: westward towers five-peaked Beshtau, blue as "the last cloud
of a dispersed storm," [25] and northward rises Mashuk, like a shaggy
Persian cap, shutting in the whole of that quarter of the horizon.
Eastward the outlook is more cheery: down below are displayed the
varied hues of the brand-new, spotlessly clean, little town, with its
murmuring, health-giving springs and its babbling, many-tongued throng.
Yonder, further away, the mountains tower up in an amphitheatre, ever
bluer and mistier; and, at the edge of the horizon, stretches the
silver chain of snow-clad summits, beginning with Kazbek and ending with
two-peaked Elbruz... Blithe is life in such a land! A feeling akin to
rapture is diffused through all my veins. The air is pure and fresh,
like the kiss of a child; the sun is bright, the sky is blue--what more
could one possibly wish for? What need, in such a place as this, of
passions, desires, regrets?

However, it is time to be stirring. I will go to the Elizaveta spring--I
am told that the whole society of the watering-place assembles there in
the morning.

*****

Descending into the middle of the town, I walked along the boulevard,
on which I met a few melancholy groups slowly ascending the mountain.
These, for the most part, were the families of landed-gentry from the
steppes--as could be guessed at once from the threadbare, old-fashioned
frock-coats of the husbands and the exquisite attire of the wives
and daughters. Evidently they already had all the young men of the
watering-place at their fingers' ends, because they looked at me with
a tender curiosity. The Petersburg cut of my coat misled them; but
they soon recognised the military epaulettes, and turned away with
indignation.

The wives of the local authorities--the hostesses, so to speak, of the
waters--were more graciously inclined. They carry lorgnettes, and they
pay less attention to a uniform--they have grown accustomed in the
Caucasus to meeting a fervid heart beneath a numbered button and a
cultured intellect beneath a white forage-cap. These ladies are very
charming, and long continue to be charming. Each year their adorers
are exchanged for n