of mother lay on father's shoulder; although father embraced her, he
seemed very serious, and he showed no enthusiasm when he was told of
the arrival of the musicians. Both treated their arrival with
inexplicable indifference, which called forth a feeling of sadness in
Yura. But mamma stirred and said:

"Let me go. I must go."

"Remember," said father, referring to something Yura did not
understand but which resounded in his heart with a light, gnawing
alarm.

"Stop. Aren't you ashamed?" mother laughed, and this laughter made
Yura feel still more alarmed, especially since father did not laugh
but maintained the same serious and mournful appearance of Gulliver
pining for his native land....

But soon all this was forgotten, for the wonderful festival had
begun in all its glory, mystery and grandeur. The guests came fast,
and there was no longer any place at the white table, which had been
deserted but a while before. Voices resounded, and laughter and
merry jests, and the music began to play. And on the deserted paths
of the garden where but a while ago Yura had wandered alone,
imagining himself a prince in quest of the sleeping princess, now
appeared people with cigarettes and with loud free speech. Yura met
the first guests at the front entrance; he looked at each one
carefully, and he made the acquaintance and even the friendship of
some of them on the way from the corridor to the table.

Thus he managed to become friendly with the officer, whose name was