tears. I sat down on the bench and buried my face in my handkerchief.

"That is the way that he has misunderstood me!” I thought, trying to restrain the sobs that choked me. "It is all over, all over with our old love," said some voice in my heart.

He did not come to me or try was offended at what I had said. and dry.

He

to comfort me.
His voice was calm

"I do not know what you have to reproach me for," he began; if you mean that I do not love you as much as formerly, then....

"Love!" said I, with my face buried in my handkerchief, which was more copiously wet with scalding

"For this, time and we ourselves are to blame. Each period in life has its own love.” ......

He was silent.

"And shall I tell you all the truth, if, as you say, you desire frankness? When I first knew you, I spent sleepless nights thinking about you, and fashioned my own ideal of love; and this love grew and grew in my heart. Then, at Petersburg, and when we were abroad, I no longer spent terrible nights, and I tore this love to tatters, and demolished it, since it tormented me. I did not destroy it, but I only destroyed that part of it that tormented me; I calmed myself, and still I love you, but with a different kind of love."

"Yes, you call it love, but it is torture!" I exclaimed. "Why did you let me go into society if it seemed to you so harmful that on account of it you ceased to love me?"

"It was not society, my love."

"Why did you not exert your power?" I continued. Why did you not bind me, kill me? It would have been better for me now than to be deprived of all that constitutes my happiness; it would have been well for me, and not shameful!"

And again I sobbed and hid my face.

At this moment Katya and Sonya came on the ter

race, merry and dripping, and with loud voices and laughter; but when they saw us they became quiet, and immediately went into the house.

For a long time we did not speak, even after they had gone. I had had my cry, and felt relieved. I looked at him. He sat there with his head resting on his hand, and tried to make some reply to my glance; but he only sighed deeply, and still leaned on his elbow. I went to him and took his hand. His glance rested thoughtfully on me.

"Yes," he continued, as if carrying out his thought, "to all of us, and especially you women, it is necessary to have personal experience of all the triviality of life in order to return to life itself; and it is impossible to believe any one else's report. You had at that time as yet had no experience of this brilliant and charming triviality which I admired in you. And I left you to have your own taste of it, and I felt that I had not the right to prevent you, although for me the time of this had gone by long before."

"Why, then, did you experience with me and let me experience this triviality, if you love me?" said I.

66

'Because, even if you had had the desire, still you would not have had the power of believing me; you yourself had to learn for yourself, and you have learned."

"You have reasoned much, very much," said I, "but your love was small.”

Again we relapsed into silence.

"What you have just said is cruel, but it is true,' he broke out suddenly, rising and beginning to walk up and down the terrace. "Yes, it is true. I have been to blame," he added, halting in front of me; "I should either not have permitted myself to love you at all, or to have loved more simply, yes.'

"Let us forget it all," said I, timidly.

"No, what has passed will never return, thou wilt never return," and his voice grew tender as he said this. "It has already returned," said I, laying my hand on his shoulder. He took my hand and pressed it.

No, I did not tell you the truth when I said that I did not regret the past; yes, I regret it, I mourn over your vanished love, which is gone never to come back. Who is to blame for that? I know not. Love remains, but not the same; its place is occupied, but by a feeble love, lacking strength and vigor; recollections and thankfulness remain, but...."

"Don't speak so," said I, interrupting. "Let all be again as it used to be. It can be, can it not? I asked, looking into his eyes. But his eyes were bright and calm, and gazed at me without showing their depths. Even while I said this, I felt that what I desired and asked him for was an impossibility. He smiled a serene, sweet, but, as it seemed to me, an old man's smile.

I stood silently near him, and my mind became calmer. "Let us not try to repeat the experiment of life,' said he. "Let us not deceive each other. There will be none of the old anxieties and agitations, and thank God for it! There is nothing for us to seek for, and nothing to trouble us. We have already made our experiments, and sufficient happiness has fallen to our lot..... Now it is necessary for us to step aside and give room for some one to pass," said he, pointing to the nurse, who, with Vanya, came and stood at the terrace door. "And so it is, dear friend," he said in conclusion, drawing my head to his breast, and kissing me on my hair. It was not a lover, but an old friend, who kissed me.

And from the park arose stronger and sweeter the fragrant coolness of the night, the sounds and the silence grew more solemn, and the stars burned more brilliantly in the sky.

I looked at him and my soul grew suddenly calm; as it were, that moral, painful nerve which had been torturing me was relieved. And suddenly I understood clearly and serenely that the feeling of that time had passed irrevocably, like time itself, and now it would be not only impossible, but even be hard and grievous, for it to return. Yes, and, after all, was that

time, which had seemed to me so happy, was it really good? And it was already so long, long ago!....

"Now let us have tea," said he, and we went together into the drawing-room. At the door we were again met by the nurse, with Vanya. I took the child in my arms, covered up his bare, red legs, pressed him to my heart, and, scarcely touching him with my lips, kissed him. He, as in a troubled dream, waved his little hand, with its spreading, dimpled fingers, and opened his troubled eyes as if he were searching or trying to remember something. Suddenly those little eyes rested on me, the spark of intelligence shone out in them, his chubby pouting lips began to pucker and parted in a smile.

"Mine, mine, mine," I repeated to myself, with a happy sensation in all my being, and I pressed him to my heart, finding it hard to keep myself from hurting him. And I began to kiss his cold feet, his little belly, his hands, and his head where the hair was just beginning to grow. My husband came to me; I quickly covered the child's face, and then uncovered it again.

"Ivan Sergyeïvitch!" exclaimed my husband,_tickling him under his little chin with his finger. But I again quickly covered Ivan Sergyeitch's face. No one but me had a right to look long at him! I glanced at my husband, his eyes rested on me with a bantering expression, and for the first time for many days it was easy and pleasant to look into them.

From that day forth my romance with my husband was ended; the old feeling became a precious, irrevocable memory; but the new feeling of love to my children and to the father of my children formed the beginning of another life, happy indeed, but in an entirely different way, and this I have continued to live up to the present moment.....

A PRISONER IN THE

CAUCASUS

A

Zhilin.

CHAPTER I

RUSSIAN gentleman was serving as an officer in the army of the Caucasus. His name was

One day a letter from his home came to him. His old mother wrote him:

I am now getting along in years, and I should like to see my beloved son before I die. Come and bid me farewell, lay me in the ground, and then with my blessing return again to your service. And I have been finding a bride for you, and she is intelligent and handsome and has property. If she pleases you, why then you can marry and settle down together.

Zhilin thought the matter over.

"It is very true: the old lady has been growing feeble; maybe I shall not have a chance to see her again. I'll go, and if the girl is pretty — then I might marry."

He went to his colonel, got his leave of absence, bade his comrades farewell, gave the soldiers of his command nine gallons1 of vodka as a parting treat, and made his arrangements to leave.

There was war at that time in the Caucasus. The roads were not open for travel either by day or night. If any Russian rode or walked outside of the fortress, the Tartars were likely either to kill him or carry him off to the mountains. And it was arranged that twice a week an escort of soldiers should go from fortress to

1 Four vedros, equivalent exactly to 8.80 gallons.