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"
Yes
,
but
between
ourselves
,
"
said
the
princess
,
"
that
is
a
pretext
.
The
fact
is
he
has
come
to
see
Count
Cyril
Vladímirovich
,
hearing
how
ill
he
is
.
"
"
But
do
you
know
,
my
dear
,
that
was
a
capital
joke
,
"
said
the
count
;
and
seeing
that
the
elder
visitor
was
not
listening
,
he
turned
to
the
young
ladies
.
"
I
can
just
imagine
what
a
funny
figure
that
policeman
cut
!
"
And
as
he
waved
his
arms
to
impersonate
the
policeman
,
his
portly
form
again
shook
with
a
deep
ringing
laugh
,
the
laugh
of
one
who
always
eats
well
and
,
in
particular
,
drinks
well
.
"
So
do
come
and
dine
with
us
!
"
he
said
.
Silence
ensued
.
The
countess
looked
at
her
callers
,
smiling
affably
,
but
not
concealing
the
fact
that
she
would
not
be
distressed
if
they
now
rose
and
took
their
leave
.
The
visitor
's
daughter
was
already
smoothing
down
her
dress
with
an
inquiring
look
at
her
mother
,
when
suddenly
from
the
next
room
were
heard
the
footsteps
of
boys
and
girls
running
to
the
door
and
the
noise
of
a
chair
falling
over
,
and
a
girl
of
thirteen
,
hiding
something
in
the
folds
of
her
short
muslin
frock
,
darted
in
and
stopped
short
in
the
middle
of
the
room
.
It
was
evident
that
she
had
not
intended
her
flight
to
bring
her
so
far
.
Behind
her
in
the
doorway
appeared
a
student
with
a
crimson
coat
collar
,
an
officer
of
the
Guards
,
a
girl
of
fifteen
,
and
a
plump
rosy-faced
boy
in
a
short
jacket
.
The
count
jumped
up
and
,
swaying
from
side
to
side
,
spread
his
arms
wide
and
threw
them
round
the
little
girl
who
had
run
in
.
"
Ah
,
here
she
is
!
"
he
exclaimed
laughing
.
"
My
pet
,
whose
name
day
it
is
.
My
dear
pet
!
"
"
Ma
chère
,
there
is
a
time
for
everything
,
"
said
the
countess
with
feigned
severity
.
"
You
spoil
her
,
Ilyá
,
"
she
added
,
turning
to
her
husband
.
"
How
do
you
do
,
my
dear
?
I
wish
you
many
happy
returns
of
your
name
day
,
"
said
the
visitor
.
"
What
a
charming
child
,
"
she
added
,
addressing
the
mother
.
This
black-eyed
,
wide-mouthed
girl
,
not
pretty
but
full
of
life
--
with
childish
bare
shoulders
which
after
her
run
heaved
and
shook
her
bodice
,
with
black
curls
tossed
backward
,
thin
bare
arms
,
little
legs
in
lace-frilled
drawers
,
and
feet
in
low
slippers
--
was
just
at
that
charming
age
when
a
girl
is
no
longer
a
child
,
though
the
child
is
not
yet
a
young
woman
.
Escaping
from
her
father
she
ran
to
hide
her
flushed
face
in
the
lace
of
her
mother
's
mantilla
--
not
paying
the
least
attention
to
her
severe
remark
--
and
began
to
laugh
.
She
laughed
,
and
in
fragmentary
sentences
tried
to
explain
about
a
doll
which
she
produced
from
the
folds
of
her
frock
.
"
Do
you
see
?
...
My
doll
...
Mimi
...
You
see
...
"
was
all
Natásha
managed
to
utter
(
to
her
everything
seemed
funny
)
.
She
leaned
against
her
mother
and
burst
into
such
a
loud
,
ringing
fit
of
laughter
that
even
the
prim
visitor
could
not
help
joining
in
.
