“Well, she told me to repeat it.  I repeated it.  She asked me what was meant by the horizon.  I answered.  And meantime, while we were ruminating over the horizon and the Cave, in the yard below, my father was just getting ready to go shooting.  The dogs yapped, the trace horses shifted from one leg to another impatiently and coquetted with the coachman, the footman packed the waggonette with parcels and all sorts of things.  Beside the waggonette stood a brake in which my mother and sisters were sitting to drive to a name-day party at the Ivanetskys’.  No one was left in the house but Zinotchka, me, and my eldest brother, a student, who had toothache.  You can imagine my envy and my boredom.

“‘Well, what do we breathe in?’ asked Zinotchka, looking at the window.

“‘Oxygen. . .’

“’Yes.  And the horizon is the name given to the place where it seems to us as though the earth meets the sky.’

“Then the waggonette drove off, and after it the brake. . . .  I saw Zinotchka take a note out of her pocket, crumple it up convulsively and press it to her temple, then she flushed crimson and looked at her watch.

“‘So, remember,’ she said, ’that near Naples is the so-called Cave of Dogs. . . .’  She glanced at her watch again and went on:  ’where the sky seems to us to meet the earth. . . .’

“The poor girl in violent agitation walked about the room, and once more glanced at her watch.  There was another half-hour before the end of our lesson.

“‘Now arithmetic,’ she said, breathing hard and turning over the pages of the sum-book with a trembling hand.  ’Come, you work out problem 325 and I . . . will be back directly.’

“She went out.  I heard her scurry down the stairs, and then I saw her dart across the yard in her blue dress and vanish through the garden gate.  The rapidity of her movements, the flush on her cheeks and her excitement, aroused my curiosity.  Where had she run, and what for?  Being intelligent beyond my years I soon put two and two together, and understood it all:  she had run into the garden, taking advantage of the absence of my stern parents, to steal in among the raspberry bushes, or to pick herself some cherries.  If that were so, dash it all, I would go and have some cherries too.  I threw aside the sum-book and ran into the garden.  I ran to the cherry orchard, but she was not there.  Passing by the raspberries, the gooseberries, and the watchman’s shanty, she crossed the kitchen garden and reached the pond, pale, and starting at every sound.  I stole after her, and what I saw, my friends, was this.  At the edge of the pond, between the thick stumps of two old willows, stood my elder brother, Sasha; one could not see from his face that he had toothache.  He looked towards Zinotchka as she approached him, and his whole figure was lighted up by an expression of happiness as though by sunshine.  And Zinotchka, as though she were being driven into the Cave of Dogs, and were being