"They are near André."
When the meal was over we left the dining-room. Following a Russian fashion which my aunt had introduced among us, when we entered the drawing-room, I pressed her hand to my lips, while she kissed me on the forehead. Anna did the same; then, without even appearing to think what she was doing, she quietly held up her two cheeks for me to kiss, and afterwards offered them to her godfather. She then ran to the piano, and sat down to it, while we were taking our coffee.
"Well, what do you think of her?" my uncle asked me.
"She is very nice," I replied.
"Yes, isn't she? Just the thing for you, my boy," he observed, as he stirred his cup, with the tranquillity of a pure conscience. "Go and talk with her," he continued; "you will find she is not stupid."
I went to sit down by Anna.
"Come, play the bass!" she said, moving aside to make room for me, as if we had often played in duet together before.
When the piece was finished, we talked about her convent, her friends, and the Mother Superior, Sainte Lucie, whom she was much attached to; and she spoke about everything in a confident tone of familiarity, which showed me that she had often talked of me, and had been used to think of me as an absent brother. The understanding is that, on account of her youth, our betrothal is to remain a family secret, which will only be made public when the right time arrives.
The evening concluded without any other special incident. At ten o'clock Anna went home to her convent. As she was putting her things on, she held out her hand to me, and said:
"Good-bye, André!"