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Yazar: Leo Tolstoy

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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.

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