shall be able to live together; but I pitied her. How much she suffered, and how long she was deprived of life which was necessary to her! It was pitiful; I saw with my own eyes. Where it was makes no difference—New York, Boston, Philadelphia—you know—it's no matter; but she was a very excellent woman, and she looked upon her husband as an excellent man. They were exceedingly attached to each other; yet, still she had to suffer a great deal. He was ready to give his life for the least increase of her happiness, but, for all that, she could not live happily with him. It was well that it ended as it did, but it was hard for her. You have not experienced any such thing, and so I shall not accept your answer."
"Could I hear this story from anybody?"
"Perhaps so."
"From the woman herself?"
"Perhaps so."
"And I have not given you any answer yet?"
"No."
"Do you know what it will be?"
"I do," said Beaumont, and then began an ordinary scene, proper between "bridegroom" and "bride," with kisses.
XIX.
On the next day at three o'clock Katerina Vasílyevna went to Viéra Pavlovna.
"I am to be married day after to-morrow, Viéra Pavlovna," she said as she entered; "and this evening I am going to bring my bridegroom to see you."
"Beaumont, of course, whom you have been crazy over this long time."
"I, crazy? When everything passed off so quietly and reasonably!"
"I thoroughly believe that you talked with him very quietly and sensibly; but with me, quite otherwise."
"Really, this is interesting! But here is something more interesting: he loves you very much—both of you; but you, Viéra Pavlovna, much more than Aleksandr Matvéitch."
"Is there anything interesting in that? If you have spoken to him about me with a thousandth part of the
