"Present me to your new friends," he said to his daughter,

squeezing her hand with his elbow. "I like even your horrid

Soden for making you so well again. Only it's melancholy, very

melancholy here. Who's that?"

Kitty mentioned the names of all the people they met, with some

of whom she was acquainted and some not. At the entrance of the

garden they met the blind lady, Madame Berthe, with her guide,

and the prince was delighted to see the old Frenchwoman's face

light up when she heard Kitty's voice. She at once began talking

to him with French exaggerated politeness, applauding him for

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having such a delightful daughter, extolling Kitty to the skies

before her face, and calling her a treasure, a pearl, and a

consoling angel.

"Well, she's the second angel, then," said the prince, smiling.

"she calls Mademoiselle Varenka angel number one."

"Oh! Mademoiselle Varenka, she's a real angel, allez," Madame

Berthe assented.

In the arcade they met Varenka herself. She was walking rapidly

towards them carrying an elegant red bag.

"Here is papa come," Kitty said to her.

Varenka made--simply and naturally as she did everything--a

movement between a bow and a curtsey, and immediately began

talking to the prince, without shyness, naturally, as she

talked to everyone.

"Of course I know you; I know you very well," the prince said

to her with a smile, in which Kitty detected with joy that her

father liked her friend. "Where are you off to in such haste?"

"Maman's here," she said, turning to Kitty. "She has not slept

all night, and the doctor advised her to go out. I'm taking her

her work."

"So that's angel number one?" said the prince when Varenka had

gone on.

Kitty saw that her father had meant to make fun of Varenka, but

that he could not do it because he liked her.

"Come, so we shall see all your friends," he went on, "even

Madame Stahl, if she deigns to recognize me."

"Why, did you know her, papa?" Kitty asked apprehensively,

catching the gleam of irony that kindled in the prince's eyes at

the mention of Madame Stahl.

"I used to know her husband, and her too a little, before she'd

joined the Pietists."

"What is a Pietist, papa?" asked Kitty, dismayed to find that

what she prized so highly in Madame Stahl had a name.

"I don't quite know myself. I only know that she thanks God

for everything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that her

husband died. And that's rather droll, as they didn't get on

together."




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