`Not going!' said Petrov, blushing, and immediately beginning to cough, and his eyes sought his wife. `Aneta! Aneta!' he said loudly, and the swollen veins stood out like cords on his thin white neck.

Anna Pavlovna came up.

`So you sent word to the Princess that we weren't going!' he whispered to her angrily, losing his voice.

`Good morning, Princess,' said Anna Pavlovna, with an assumed smile utterly unlike her former manner. `Very glad to make your acquaintance,' she said to the Prince. `You've long been expected, Prince.'

`Why did you send word to the Princess that we weren't going?' the artist whispered hoarsely again, still more angrily, obviously exasperated that his voice failed him so that he could not give his words the expression he would have liked to.

`Oh, mercy on us! I thought we weren't going,' his wife answered crossly.

`What, when...' He coughed and waved his hand.

The Prince took off his hat and moved away with his daughter.

`Ah! ah!' he sighed deeply. `Oh, poor things!'

`Yes, papa,' answered Kitty. `And you must know they've three children, no servant, and scarcely any means. He gets something from the Academy,' she went on briskly, trying to drown the distress that queer change in Anna Pavlovna's manner toward her had aroused in her. `Oh, here's Madame Stahl,' said Kitty, indicating an invalid carriage, where, propped on pillows, something in gray and blue was lying under a sunshade. This was Madame Stahl. Behind her stood the gloomy, robust German workman who pushed the carriage. Close by was standing a flaxen-headed Swedish Count, whom Kitty knew by name. Several invalids were lingering near the low carriage, staring at the lady as though she were some curiosity.

The Prince walked up to her, and Kitty detected that disconcerting gleam of irony in his eyes. He walked up to Madame Stahl, and addressed her with extreme courtesy and charm in that excellent French which so few speak nowadays.

`I don't know if you remember me, but I must recall myself to thank you for your kindness to my daughter,' he said taking off his hat and not putting it on again.

`Prince Alexandre Shcherbatsky,' said Madame Stahl, lifting upon him her heavenly eyes, in which Kitty discerned a look of annoyance. `Delighted! I have taken a great fancy to your daughter.'

`You are still in weak health?'

`Yes; I'm used to it,' said Madame Stahl, and she introduced the Prince to the Swedish Count.

`You are scarcely changed at all,' the Prince said to her. `It's ten or eleven years since I had the honor of seeing you.'

`Yes; God sends the cross and sends the strength to bear it. Often one wonders what is the goal of this life?... The other side!' she said angrily to Varenka, who had rearranged the rug over her feet not to her satisfaction.

`To do good, probably,' said the Prince with a twinkle in his eye.

`That is not for us to judge,' said Madame Stahl, perceiving the shade of expression on the Prince's face. `So you will send me that book, dear Count? I'm very grateful to you,' she said to the young Swede.