"Sometimes grandmother is cross, but mama never; she on'y laughs. Every one loves her, because she never has any time. People are always coming to see her and to look at her because she is so beautiful. She is 'ovely, mama is. 'Oseph says so—'ovely!"
I loved to listen to her, for she spoke of a world of which I knew nothing. She spoke willingly and often about her mother, and a new life gradually opened out before me. I was again reminded of Queen Margot, which deepened my faith in books and also my interest in life. One day when I was sitting on the steps waiting for my people, who had gone for a walk, and the little girl had dozed off in my arms, her mother rode up on horseback, sprang lightly to the ground, and, throwing back her head, asked:
"What, is she asleep?"
"Yes."
"That's right."
The soldier Tuphyaev came running to her and took the horse. She stuck her whip into her belt and, holding out her arms, said:
"Give her to me!"
"I'll carry her in myself."
"Come on!" cried the lady, as if I had been a horse, and she stamped her foot on the step.
The little girl woke up, blinking, and, seeing her mother, held out her arms to her. They went away.