Foedor then turned, and as at parting, sank on his knee before Vaninka; but a moment had sufficed for the haughty girl to banish the feeling she had shown.  The blush which had suffused her cheek had disappeared, and she had become again cold and haughty like an alabaster statue-a masterpiece of pride begun by nature and finished by education.  Foedor kissed her hand; it was trembling but cold he felt his heart sink, and thought he was about to die.

“Why, Vaninka,” said the general—­“why are you so cool to a friend who has caused us so much anxiety and yet so much pleasure?  Come, Fordor, kiss my daughter.”

Foedor rose entreatingly, but waited motionless, that another permission might confirm that of the general.

“Did you not hear my father?” said Vaninka, smiling, but nevertheless possessing sufficient self-control to prevent the emotion she was feeling from appearing in her voice.

Foedor stooped to kiss Vaninka, and as he held her hands it seemed to him that she lightly pressed his own with a nervous, involuntary movement.  A feeble cry of joy nearly escaped him, when, suddenly looking at Vaninka, he was astonished at her pallor:  her lips were as white as death.

The general made Foedor sit down at the table:  Vaninka took her place again, and as by chance she was seated with her back to the light, the general noticed nothing.

Breakfast passed in relating and listening to an account of this strange campaign which began under the burning sun of Italy and ended in the glaciers of Switzerland.  As there are no journals in St. Petersburg which publish anything other than that which is permitted by the emperor, Souvarow’s successes were spread abroad, but his reverses were ignored.  Foedor described the former with modesty and the latter with frankness.

One can imagine, the immense interest the general took in Foedor’s story.  His two captain’s epaulets and the decorations on his breast proved that the young man had modestly suppressed his own part in the story he had told.  But the general, too courageous to fear that he might share in Souvarow’s disgrace, had already visited the dying field-marshal, and had heard from him an account of his young protege’s bravery.  Therefore, when Foedor had finished his story, it was the general’s turn to enumerate all the fine things Foedor had done in a campaign of less than a year.  Having finished this enumeration, he added that he intended next day to ask the emperor’s permission to take the young captain for his aide-de-camp.  Foedor hearing this wished to throw himself at the general’s feet, but he received him again in his arms, and to show Foedor how certain he was that he would be successful in his request, he fixed the rooms that the young man was to occupy in the house at once.

The next day the general returned from the palace of St. Michel with the pleasant news that his request had been granted.