Sanine

Yourii did not perceive that he had already recovered his good humour.

Lialia's merry voice and her joy of living had speedily banished his

depression which he had imagined to be very real and deep. Lialia did

not believe in his melancholy, and therefore his remarks caused her no

concern.

Yourii looked at her, and said with a smile.

"I am never merry."

At this Lialia laughed, as though he had said something vastly droll.

"Very well, Knight of the Rueful Countenance, if you aren't you aren't.

Never mind, come with me, and I will introduce you to a charming young

man. Come!"

So saying she took her brother's hand, and laughingly led him along.

"Stop! Who is this charming young man?"

"My fiancé," cried Lialia, as, joyful and confused, she twisted sharply

round so that her gown was puffed out. Yourii knew already, from his

father's and sister's letters, that a young doctor recently established

in the town had been paying court to Lialia, but he was not aware that

their engagement was a fait accompli.

"You don't say so?" said he, in amazement. It seemed to him so strange

that pretty, fresh-looking little Lialia, almost a child, should

already have a lover, and should soon become a bride--a wife. It

touched him to a vague sense of pity for his sister. Yourii put his arm

round Lialia's waist and went with her into the dining-room where in

the lamp-light shone the large, highly polished samovar. At the table,

by the side of Nicolai Yegorovitch sat a well-built young man, not

Russian in type, with bronzed features and keen bright eyes.

He rose in simple, friendly fashion to meet Yourii.

"Introduce me."

"Anatole Pavlovitch Riasantzeff!" cried Lialia, with a gesture of comic

solemnity.

"Who craves your friendship and indulgence," added Riasantzeff, joking

in his turn.

With a sincere wish to become friends, the two shook hands. For a

moment it seemed as if they would embrace, but they refrained, merely

exchanging frank, amicable glances.

"So this is her brother, is it?" thought Riasantzeff, in surprise, for

he had imagined that a brother of Lialia, short, fair, and merry, would

be short, fair and merry too. Yourii, on the contrary was tall, thin

and dark, though as good-looking as Lialia, and with the same regular

features.

And, as Yourii looked at Riasantzeff, he thought to himself: "So this

is the man who in my little sister Lialia, as fresh and fair as a

spring morning, loves the woman; loves her just as I myself have loved

women." Somehow, it hurt him to look at Lialia and Riasantzeff, as if

he feared that they would read his thoughts.