"There are no such novels nowadays. Would you like a Russian one?"

"Are there any Russian novels? Send me one, my dear, pray send me
one!"

"Good-by, grandmother. I am in a hurry. . . . Goodby, Lizavetta
Ivanovna. What made you think that Naroumoff was in the
Engineers?"

And Tomsky left the boudoir.

Lizaveta Ivanovna was left alone. She laid aside her work, and
began to look out of the window. A few moments afterwards, at a
corner house on the other side of the street, a young officer
appeared. A deep flush covered her cheeks; she took up her work
again, and bent her head down over the frame. At the same moment
the Countess returned, completely dressed.

"Order the carriage, Lizaveta," said she, "we will go out for a
drive."

Lizaveta rose from the frame, and began to arrange her work.

"What is the matter with you, my child, are you deaf?" cried the
Countess. "Order the carriage to be got ready at once."

"I will do so this moment," replied the young lady, hastening into
the anteroom.