I went back to my room, and, sitting down, began to reflect. My heart beat quickly. I read Annouchka's letter over several times. I looked at my watch; it was not yet noon.

The door opened and Gaguine entered. He looked gloomy. He took my hand and pressed it fervently. You could see that he was under the influence of a deep emotion.

"What has happened?" I asked him. Gaguine took a chair, and seated himself by my side.

"Three days ago," he said to me, with an uneasy smile and a constrained voice, "I told you some things that surprised you; to-day I am going to astonish you still more. To another than you, I would not speak so frankly; but you are a man of honor, and a friend, I hope; then listen. My sister Annouchka loves you."

I started, and rose quickly.

"Your sister, you tell me—?"

"Yes," he replied bruskly, "I said so. It is foolish; she will drive me mad. Fortunately, she cannot lie, and confides everything to me. Ah! what a heart that child has; but she will surely ruin herself!"

"You are certainly in error," I exclaimed, interrupting him.

"No, I am not mistaken. Yesterday she remained in bed the entire day without taking anything. It is true she did not complain; but she never does complain. I felt no uneasiness, but towards evening she had a little fever. About two in the morning our landlady came and awoke me.

"'Go and see your sister,' she said to me; 'I think she is ill.'

"I ran to Annouchka's room, and found her still dressed, consumed with fever, in tears; her head was on fire; her teeth chattered.

"'What is the matter with you?' I asked.

"She threw herself upon my neck and begged me to take her away, if I valued her life. Without being able to understand anything, I tried to calm her; her sobs redoubled, and, suddenly, in the depth of her grief, she confessed to me,—in a word, I learned that she loves you.—There! You and I are grown men, governed by reason. Well! we will never understand how deep are the sentiments that Annouchka feels, and with what violence they manifest themselves; it is something at once unforeseen and irresistible, like the bursting of a storm. You are, without doubt, a very attractive man," continued Gaguine, "but yet, how have you inspired such a violent passion? I cannot conceive of it, I confess it! She pretends that, as soon as she saw you, she was attracted towards you. That is why she wept so much of late in assuring me that she would never love any one in the world but me. She thinks that you look down upon her, knowing probably her origin. She asked me if I had told you her story. I told her No, as you may imagine, but her penetration frightens me. She had but one thought, that was to go away, and quickly. I stayed with her until morning. She made me promise that we should start to-morrow, and only then was she quieted. After mature reflection, I decided to come and confer with you upon the subject. In my opinion, my sister is right; the best thing is to leave, and I should have taken her away to-day if an idea had not occurred to me, and stopped me. Who knows? Perhaps my sister pleases you; if so, why then should we part? So I decided, and putting aside my pride, relying upon some observations that I had made—yes—I decided to come—to come and ask you"—

Here Gaguine, disconcerted, stopped short.

"Pray excuse me—pardon—I am not accustomed to interviews of this kind."

I took his hand.

"You wish to know if your sister pleases me!" I said to him firmly. "She does please me!"

Gaguine fixed his eyes upon me. "But, in short," replied he, hesitating,—"would you marry her?"

"How can I answer that question. I make you the judge of it.—Can I do it now?"

"I know it, I know it," cried Gaguine; "no, I have no right to expect an answer from you, and the question that I have asked you is unconventional in every particular, but force of circumstances compelled me to do so. It is not safe to play with fire! You don't understand what Annouchka is. She may fall ill, or run away, or even—or even give you a rendezvous. Another would know how to conceal her feelings and wait, but she cannot. It is her first experience, that's the worst of it! If you could have seen to-day the way in which she sobbed at my feet, you would share my fears."

I began to reflect. The words of Gaguine, "Give you a rendezvous," oppressed my heart. It seemed shameful to me not to answer his honest frankness by a loyal confession.

"Yes!" I at length said to him, "you are right. I received, about an hour ago, a letter from your sister; there it is." He took it, ran through it rapidly, and again let his hands fall upon his knees. The astonishment that his features expressed would have been laughable, if I could have laughed at that moment.

"You are a man of honor," he said. "I am not the less embarrassed to know what to do. How! She asks me to fly, and in this letter she reproaches herself for her imprudence! But when, then, did she have the time to write to you? and what are her intentions in regard to you?"

I reassured him, and we applied ourselves, with as much coolness as was possible, to discuss what we should do. This is the plan which we finally determined upon to prevent all unhappiness. It was agreed that I should go to the rendezvous and speak plainly with Annouchka. Gaguine promised to remain at home, without showing that he had read the letter; and it was decided, moreover, that we should meet in the evening.

"I have full confidence in you," he said, pressing my hand; "have consideration for her and for me; but, nevertheless, we will leave to-morrow," added he, rising, "since it is settled that you will not marry her."

"Give me until this evening," I replied.

"So be it! you will not marry her!"

He took his departure; I threw myself upon the divan and closed my eyes. I was dazed; too many thoughts at once crowded into my brain. I was angry with Gaguine for his frankness; I was angry with Annouchka: her love filled me with joy—and yet I was afraid of it.

I could not account for her having made a full confession to her brother. That which above all caused me great pain was the absolute necessity of making a sudden and almost instantaneous decision.

"Marry a girl of seventeen, with a disposition like that; it is impossible!" I cried, rising.