extended her hand, glittering with jewelled rings, and addressed some words to him in the same tongue. He looked embarrassed, but the ready Feodor came to his aid. "Pas Français, madame," he said.
The Countess Wertsch accordingly condescended to the use of her native language, in which she bade Ivan welcome cordially enough. She then gave him a French bonbonnière, and told him to help himself and his companion to its contents, while she continued her conversation with her guests. Ivan could not help thinking, from the manner of the speakers, that this conversation had reference to himself, and he was beginning to grow hot and uncomfortable, when Feodor effectually diverted his thoughts by taking out his pocket-knife and cutting upon one of the bonbons—a large almond covered with chocolate—a striking likeness of the countess's rather peculiar face. He was on the point of indulging in a laugh which might have had awkward consequences, when a young man, dressed à la française, and carrying in his hand a long pipe tipped with amber, lounged into the room.
"This is Adrian, my eldest son," said the countess, turning to Ivan. "You are to be fellow-students, so you ought to be friends.—Adrian, this is Prince Ivan Pojarsky."
Adrian made a bow, and addressing himself to Ivan, asked if he had seen the new piece at the French theatre.
Ivan, who thought he meant a new part of the building, answered with simplicity, "I do not know; everything I see here is alike new to me."
"Then I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to a great many things," said Adrian, with a smile, and, by way of a further overture of friendship, he took out and presented a jewelled snuff-box. Ivan supposed this to be another kind of bonbonnière; but fortunately for himself he was not attracted either by the look or the odour of its contents, and declined with thanks.
