“Come, sir,” said the hall-porter; then with a shake of his head he whispered, “Something from the countess.”

Seryozha understood at once that what the hall porter was speaking of was a present from Countess Lidia Ivanovna for his birthday.

“What do you say? Where?”

“Korney took it to your papa. A fine plaything it must be too!”

“How big? Like this?”

“Rather small, but a fine thing.”

“A book.”

“No, a thing. Run along, run along, Vassily Lukitch is calling you,” said the porter, hearing the tutor’s steps approaching,