"Yes, I know. I'll come there," said Sasha happily.
"Now, be sure to come," repeated Liudmilla sternly. "I'll wait for you, do you hear!"
"But suppose I should have a lot of lessons?" asked Sasha, more from scruple than from any idea that he would not come because of his lessons.
"That's all nonsense. You must come," insisted Liudmilla. "They won't give you a nought."
"But why?" asked Sasha laughingly.
"Because you've got to come. Come, for I've something to tell you and something to show you," said Liudmilla dancing about and humming a song, and lifting her skirt as she did so, and playfully sticking out her pink little fingers.
"Come to me, sweet one, sober one, golden one," she sang.
Sasha began to laugh.
"You'd better tell me to-day," he entreated.
"I mustn't to-day. And how can I tell you to-day? You won't come to-morrow if I do. You'll say there's nothing to come for."