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.