Sanine

Sanine was silent, and smiled good-humouredly.

After a pause he said: "Well, finish your statement; I am in no hurry!"

Novikoff kept walking up and down the path, as before. He was evidently

hurt. At this moment the terrier came running back excitedly and rubbed

against Sanine's knees, as if wishful to let every one know how pleased

he was.

"Good dog!" said Sanine, patting him.

Novikoff strove to avoid continuing the discussion, being afraid that

Sanine might return to the subject which for personally was the most

interesting in the whole world. Anything that did not concern Lida

seemed le to him--dull.

"And--where is Lidia Petrovna?" he asked mechanically, albeit loth to

utter the question that was uppermost in his mind.

"Lida? Where should she be? Walking with officers on the boulevard,

where all our young ladies are to be found at this time of day."

A look of jealousy darkened his face, as Novikoff asked: "How can a girl so clever and cultivated as she waste her time with

such empty-headed fools?"

"Oh! my friend," exclaimed Sanine, smiling, "Lida is handsome, and

young, and healthy, just as you are; more so, in fact, because she has

that which you lack--keen desire for everything. She wants to know

everything, to experience everything--why, here she comes! You've only

got to look at her to understand that. Isn't she pretty?"

Lida was shorter and much handsomer than her brother. Sweetness

combined with supple strength gave to her whole personality charm and

distinction. There was a haughty look in her dark eyes, and her voice,

of which she was proud, sounded rich and musical. She walked slowly

down the steps, moving with the lithe grace of a thoroughbred, while

adroitly holding up her long grey dress. Behind her, clinking their

spurs, came two good-looking young officers in tightly-fitting riding-

breeches and shining top-boots.

"Who is pretty? Is it I?" asked Lida, as she filled the whole garden

with the charm of her voice, her beauty and her youth. She gave

Novikoff her hand, with a side-glance at her brother, about whose

attitude she did not feel quite clear, never knowing whether he was

joking or in earnest. Grasping her hand tightly, Novikoff grew very

red, but his emotions were unnoticed by Lida, used as she was to his

reverent, bashful glance that never troubled her.

"Good evening, Vladimir Petrovitch," said the elder, handsomer and

fairer of the two officers, rigid, erect as a spirited stallion, while

his spurs clinked noisily.

Sanine knew him to be Sarudine, a captain of cavalry, one of Lida's

most persistent admirers. The other was Lieutenant Tanaroff, who

regarded Sarudine as the ideal soldier, and strove to copy everything

he did. He was taciturn, somewhat clumsy, and not so good-looking as

Sarudine. Tanaroff rattled his spurs in his turn, but said nothing.