Thus he lived happily the first month under the roof of his aunts'
dwelling, paying no attention to the half-servant, half-ward, the
black-eyed, nimble-footed Katiousha.

Nekhludoff, raised under the protecting wing of his mother, was at
nineteen a perfectly innocent youth. He dreamed of woman, but only as
wife. All those women who, according to his view, could not be
considered as likely to become his wife, were to him not women, but
people. But it happened on Ascension Day that there was visiting his
aunts a lady from the neighborhood with her two young daughters, her
son and a local artist who was staying with them.

After tea had been served the entire company, as usual, repaired to
the meadow, where they played blind man's buff. Katiousha went with
them. After some exchanges came Nekhludoff's turn to run with
Katiousha. Nekhludoff always liked to see Katiousha, but it had never
occurred to him that their relations could ever be any but the most
formal.

"It will be difficult to catch them now," said the cheerful artist,
whose short and curved legs carried him very swiftly, "unless they
stumble."

"You could not catch them."

"One, two, three!"

They clapped their hands three times. Almost bursting into laughter,
Katiousha quickly changed places with Nekhludoff, and pressing with