“H'm!”
“Oh, he's quite well, thank you, prince, quite well,” answered Maria Alexandrovna quickly.
“Ye—yes, I see he is—he looks it! And are you still at the vill—age? Dear me, very pleased, I'm sure; why, how red he looks, and he's always laugh—ing.”
Afanassy smiled and bowed, and even “scraped,” as the prince spoke, but at the last observation he suddenly, and without warning or apparent reason, burst into loud fits of laughter.
The ladies were delighted. Zina flushed up, and with flashing eyes darted a look at her mother, who, in her turn, was boiling over with rage.
It was time to change the conversation.
“Did you have a nice nap, prince?” she inquired in honied accents; but at the same time giving Afanassy to understand, with very un-honied looks that he might go—well, anywhere!
“Oh, I slept won—derfully, wonderfully? And do you know, I had such a most fascinating, be—witching dream!”
“A dream? how delightful! I do so love to hear people tell their dreams,” cried Felisata.
“Oh, a fas—cinating dream,” stammered the old man again, “quite be—witching, but all the more a dead secret for that very reas—on.”