In the little sledge, wrapped in a velvet cloak, sat Lizaveta Petrovna with a kerchief round her head.

" Thank God! thank God!" he said, overjoyed to recognize her little fair face which wore a peculiarly serious, even stern expression.

Telling the driver not to stop, he ran along beside her.

"For two hours, then? Not more?" she inquired.

" You should let Pyotr Dmitrievitch know, but don't hurry him.