`Ah!' cried the Prince, catching sight of the Moscow colonel standing near, and with a bow to Madame Stahl he walked away with his daughter and the Moscow colonel, who joined them.

`That's our aristocracy, Prince!' the Moscow colonel said with ironical intention. He cherished a grudge against Madame Stahl for not making his acquaintance.

`She's the same as ever,' replied the Prince.

`Did you know her before her illness, Prince - that's to say, before she took to her bed?'

`Yes. She took to her bed before my eyes,' said the Prince.

`They say it's ten years since she has stood on her feet.'

`She doesn't stand up because her legs are too short. She has a very bad figure.'

`Papa, it's not possible!' cried Kitty.

`That's what wicked tongues say, my darling. And your Varenka is to endure still,' he added. `Oh, these invalid ladies!'

`Oh, no, papa!' Kitty objected warmly. `Varenka worships her. And then she does so much good! Ask anyone! Everyone knows her and Aline Stahl.'

`Perhaps so,' said the Prince, squeezing her hand with his elbow; `but it's better when one does good so that you may ask everyone and no one knows.'

Kitty did not answer, not because she had nothing to say, but because she did not care to reveal her secret thoughts even to her father. But, strange to say, although she had made up her mind so firmly not to be influenced by her father's views, not to let him into her inmost sanctuary, she felt that the heavenly image of Madame Stahl, which she had carried for a whole month in her heart, had vanished, never to return, just as the fantastic figure made up of some clothes thrown down at random vanishes when one sees that it is only some fallen garment. All that was left was a woman with short legs, who lay down because she had a bad figure, and worried patient Varenka for not arranging her rug to her liking. And by no effort of her imagination could Kitty bring back the former Madame Stahl.