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"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can never

happen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "How shall I

enter the drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself

with him." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with

terror. The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had

already received from Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary

report of how handsome the minister's son was, with his rosy

cheeks and dark eyebrows, and with what difficulty the father had

dragged his legs upstairs while the son had followed him like an

eagle, three steps at a time. Having received this information,

the little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne, whose chattering

voices had reached her from the corridor, went into Princess

Mary's room.

"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess,

waddling in, and sinking heavily into an armchair.