My first romantic love

told my father that this Prince Zasyekin struck her as a femme très vulgaire, that she had quite worn her out begging her to interest Prince Sergei in their

this lady was; that he had in his youth known the deceased Prince Zasyekin, a very well-bred, but frivolous and absurd person; that he had been nicknamed in society ‘le Parisien,’ from having lived a long while in Paris; that he had been very rich, but had gambled away

try to borrow money

’ my father responded tranqui

y ba

id you had asked the daughter too; some one was tel

can’t take aft

oined my father. ‘He was cul

. My father said no more. I felt very

at I would not go near the Zasyekins’ garden, but an irresistible force drew

eld a book in her hands, and was coming sl

; but all at once I chan

hand the broad blue ribbon of her round straw hat, looked

t, walked away with a heavy heart. ‘Que suis-je

e; I looked round, my father came u

ng princess?’ he

o you k

s morning at t

stonishment on her face, and dropped her book. I saw how she looked after him. My father was always irreproachably dressed, simple and in a style of his own; but his

she did not even glance at me; she p