Grandmamma's?"

"Yes. It is a pity you were not there. There were heaps of guests--about
a thousand people, and all of them princes or generals, and there was
music, and I danced--But, Katenka" I broke off, "you are not listening
to me?"

"Oh yes, I am listening. You said that you danced--?"

"Why are you so serious?"

"Well, one cannot ALWAYS be gay."

"But you have changed tremendously since Woloda and I first went
to Moscow. Tell me the truth, now: why are you so odd?" My tone was
resolute.

"AM I so odd?" said Katenka with an animation which showed me that my
question had interested her. "I don't see that I am so at all."

"Well, you are not the same as you were before," I continued. "Once upon
a time any one could see that you were our equal in everything, and that
you loved us like relations, just as we did you; but now you are always
serious, and keep yourself apart from us."

"Oh, not at all."

"But let me finish, please," I interrupted, already conscious of a
slight tickling in my nose--the precursor of the tears which usually
came to my eyes whenever I had to vent any long pent-up feeling. "You