So mind you don’t read them, Nastenka,’ she said. ‘What books has he sent?’

“ ‘They’re all novels by Walter Scott, Granny.’

“ ‘Walter Scott’s novels? Are you certain, Nastenka, there isn’t some trickery there? Make sure, dear, he hasn’t put a love letter in one of them.’

“ ‘No, Granny,’ I said, ‘there’s no love letter.’

“ ‘Oh, dear,’ said Granny, ‘look in the binding, there’s a good girl. Sometimes they stuff it in the binding, the scoundrels.’

“ ‘No, Granny, there’s nothing in the binding.’

“ ‘Well, that’s all right then!’

“So we started reading Walter Scott, and in a month or so we had read through almost half of his novels. Then he sent us some more books. He sent us Pushkin. And in the end I didn’t know what to do if I had no book to read, and I gave up dreaming of marrying a prince of royal blood.

“So it went on till one day I happened to meet our lodger on the stairs. Granny had sent me to fetch something. He stopped. I blushed and he blushed. However, he laughed, said good morning to me, asked me how Granny was, and then said, ‘Well, have you read the books?’ I said, ‘Yes, we have.’ ‘Which did you like best?’ I said, ‘I liked Ivanhoe and Pushkin best of all.’ That was all that happened that time.

“A week later I again happened to meet him on the stairs. That time Granny had not sent me for anything, but I had gone up to fetch something myself. It was past two in the afternoon, when our lodger usually came home. ‘Good afternoon,’ he said. ‘Good afternoon,’ I said.

“ ‘Don’t you feel awfully bored sitting with your Granny all day?’ he said.

“The moment he asked me that, I blushed—I don’t know why. I felt awfully ashamed, and hurt, too, because I suppose it was clear that even strangers were beginning to wonder how I could sit all day long pinned to my Granny. I wanted to go away without answering, but I just couldn’t summon enough strength to do that.

“ ‘Look here,’ he said, ‘you’re a nice girl, and I hope you don’t mind my telling you that I’m more anxious even than your Granny that you should be happy. Have you no girl friends at all whom you’d like to visit?’

“I told him I hadn’t any. I had only one, Mashenka, but she had gone away to Pskov.

“ ‘Would you like to go to the theatre with me?’ he asked.

“ ‘To the theatre? But what about Granny?’

“ ‘Couldn’t you come without her knowing anything about it?’

“ ‘No, sir,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to deceive my Granny. Goodbye.’

“ ‘Goodbye,’ he said, and went upstairs without another word.

“After dinner, however, he came down to see us. He sat down and had a long talk with Granny. He asked her whether she ever went out, whether she had any friends, and then suddenly he said, ‘I’ve taken a box for the opera for this evening. They’re giving The Barber of Seville. Some friends of mine wanted to come, but they couldn’t manage it, and now the tickets are left on my hands.’

“ ‘The Barber of Seville!’ cried my Granny. ‘Why, is it the same barber they used to act in the old days?’

“ ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘it’s the same barber,’ and he glanced at me.

“Of course I understood everything. I blushed and my heart began thumping in anticipation.

“ ‘Oh,’ said Granny, ‘I know all about him! I used to play Rosina myself in the old days at private theatricals.’

“ ‘Would you like to go today?’ said the lodger. ‘My ticket will be wasted if nobody comes.’

“ ‘Yes, I suppose we could go,’ said Granny. ‘Why shouldn’t we? My Nastenka has never been to a theatre before.’

“My goodness, wasn’t I glad! We started getting ready at once, put on our best clothes, and went off. Granny couldn’t see anything, of course, because she is blind, but she wanted to hear the music, and, besides, she’s really very kind-hearted, the old dear. She wanted me to go and enjoy myself, for we would never have gone by ourselves.