V
Darya Mihailovna’s daughter, Natalya
Alexyevna, at a first glance might fail to
please. She had not yet had time to develop;
she was thin, and dark, and stooped slightly.
But her features were fine and regular, though
too large for a girl of seventeen. Specially
beautiful was her pure, smooth forehead above
fine eyebrows, which seemed broken in the
middle. She spoke little, but listened to others,
and fixed her eyes on them as though she were
forming her own conclusions. She would often
stand with listless hands, motionless and deep
in thought; her face at such moments showed
that her mind was at work within.. . . A
scarcely perceptible smile would suddenly ap-
pear on her lips and vanish again; then she
would slowly raise her large dark eyes. ‘Qu’a-
vez-vous?’ Mlle, Boncourt would ask her, and
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