"I leave this evening for Chigirin. The sooner I go the
sooner I shall retarn. Besides, it is the prince's service;
neither my time nor will is at my disposal."

"Will you. come to dinner, if you have had enough of
billing and cooing?" said the princess, coming in. "Ho!
ho! the young woman's cheeks are red; 'tis evident you
have not been idle, sir! Well, I'm not surprised at you."

Saying this, she stroked Helena affectionately on the
shoulder, and they went to dinner. The princess was in
perfectly good humor. She had given up Bogun long ago,
and all was arranged now, owing to the liberality of the
lieutenant, so that she could look on Rozlogi, "with its pine
woods, forests, boundaries, and inhabitants," as belonging
to her and her sons, --- no small property, indeed.

The lieutenant asked for the princes, --- whether they
would return soon.

"I expect them every day. They were angry at first
with you, but afterward, when they scrutinized your acts,
they conceived a great affection for you as their future rela-
tive; for in truth it is difficult in these mild times to find a
man of such daring."

After dinner the lieutenant and Helena went to the
cherry orchard, which came up to the ditch beyond the
square. The orchard was covered with early white blos-
soms as if with snow; beyond the orchard was a dark oak
grove in which a cuckoo was heard.

"That is a happy augury for us," said Skshetuski, "but
we must make the inquiry." And turning to the oak grove
he asked: "Good cuckoo, how many years shall I live in
marriage with this lady?"

The cuckoo began to call, and counted fifty and more.

"God grant it!"

"The cuckoo always tells the truth," remarked Helena.

"If that's the case, I'll ask another question," said the
enamoured lieutenant.

"No, it is not necessary."

In converse and merriment like this the day passed as a
dream. In the evening came the moment of tender and
long parting, and the lieutenant set out for Chigirin.