IN A WINTER CITY. 269
stUl lost in thought tiU his lamp grew low, and
the wind rising loud, shook the leaded panes of
the old high windows,
" I suppose when Fortune does smUe at us,
we always quarrel with her so," he thought, with
some impatience of his own irresolution.
After aU, what other man in Em-ope would not
have been content ?
He got up, caressed the dog, turned the lamp
higher, and went into his bed-chamber,
" Get out the white mousquetaire dress," he
said to his old servant. " I wiU go to the Eoubles¬
AU patrician FloraUa was at the Eoubleskoff
baU, one of the last great entertainments of the
expfring Carnival. In six more days there would
come the Day of Ashes; and Floralia would repent
her sins in sadness,—that is, with only musical
parties, a dinner here and there, and no suppers
at aU; (perhaps a baU might be squeezed in
once or twice by grace of the Eussian Calendar,
but, then, if you took advantage of that you were
brouille with all the codini at once).
He reached the Eoubleskoff viUa late, not so