or amusing or scandalous stories; but in spite of all he was a favorite with his comrades and his chiefs.
About eleven o'clock in the morning, when Vronsky reached his rooms after his journey, he saw at the entrance an izvoshchik's carriage, which he knew very well. From the door, when he rang, he heard men's laughter and the lisping of a woman's voice, and Petritsky shouting:—
"If it's any of those villains, don't let 'em in."
Vronsky, not allowing his denshchik to announce his presence, quietly entered the anteroom. The Baroness Shilton, a friend of Petritsky's, shining in a lilac satin robe, and with her little pink face, was making coffee before a round table, and, like a canary-bird, was filling the room with her Parisian slang. Petritsky in his overcoat, and Captain Kamerovsky in full uniform, apparently just from duty, were sitting near her.
"Bravo, Vronsky!" cried Petritsky, leaping up and overturning the chair. "The master himself. Baroness, coffee for him from the new coffee-pot! We did not expect you. I hope that you are pleased with the new ornament in your library," he said, pointing to the baroness. "You are acquainted, are n't you?"
"I should think so!" said Vronsky, smiling gayly, and squeezing the baroness's dainty little hand. "We're old friends."
"Are you back from a journey?" asked the baroness. "Then I'm off. Akh! I am going this minute if I am in the way."
"You are at home wherever you are, baroness," said Vronsky. "How are you, Kamerovsky?" coolly shaking hands with the captain.
"There now! you would never think of saying such lovely things as that," said the baroness to Petritsky.
"No? Why not? After dinner I could say better things!"
"Yes, after dinner there's no more merit in them. Well! I will make your coffee while you go and wash your hands and brush off the dust," said the baroness, again sitting down, and industriously turning the screw
