alarm caused her to lose her presence of mind, and the young man
disappeared--but not before he had left a letter between her
fingers. She concealed it in her glove, and during the whole of
the drive she neither saw nor heard anything. It was the custom of
the Countess, when out for an airing in her carriage, to be
constantly asking such questions as "Who was that person that met
us just now? What is the name of this bridge? What is written on
that sign-board?" On this occasion, however, Lizaveta returned
such vague and absurd answers, that the Countess became angry with
her.

"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she exclaimed. "Have you
taken leave of your senses, or what is it? Do you not hear me or
understand what I say? Heaven be thanked, I am still in my right
mind and speak plainly enough!"

Lizaveta Ivanovna did not hear her. On returning home she ran to
her room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed.
Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it
was tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German
novel. But Lizaveta did not know anything of the German language,
and she was quite delighted.

For all that, the letter caused her to feel exceedingly uneasy.
For the first time in her life she was entering into secret and
confidential relations with a young man. His boldness alarmed her.
She reproached herself for her imprudent behavior, and knew not
what to do. Should she cease to sit at the window, and, by
assuming an appearance of indifference towards him, put a check
upon the young officer's desire for further acquaintance with her?