“The shutters are closed, miss.”
“Help me to dress quickly.”
“You must not do so, miss; the doctor has forbidden it.” “Am I ill then? How long have I been so?”
“About a fortnight.”
“Is it possible? And it seems to me as if it were only yesterday that I went to bed....”
Natasha became silent; she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. Something had happened to her, but what it was she could not exactly remember. The maid stood before her, awaiting her orders. At that moment a dull noise was heard below.
“What is that?” asked the invalid.
“The gentlemen have finished dinner,” replied the maid: “they are rising from the table. Tatiana Afanassievna will be here presently.”
Natasha seemed pleased at this; she waved her feeble hand. The maid dropped the curtain and seated herself again at the spinning-wheel.
A few minutes afterwards, a head in a broad white cap with dark ribbons appeared in the doorway and asked in a low voice: