The appearance of our hero at the ball of the Governor of Smolensk created considerable sensation. Every one present turned round to receive him, some even held their playing-cards in their hands, whilst others stopped short in the most interesting part of their conversation, they deserted all and everything to rush forward and greet our hero.

"Pavel Ivanovitch! Good Heavens! here is our Pavel Ivanovitch! Amiable Pavel Ivanovitch! Most worthy Pavel Ivanovitch! Pavel Ivanovitch my soul! Here you are at last, excellent Pavel Ivanovitch! Allow me to embrace you my dear Pavel Ivanovitch! Give him up to me, let me embrace him most passionately, my own dear Pavel Ivanovitch!"

Tchichikoff felt himself suddenly embraced on all sides, without the least chance of preventing it. He had not quite liberated himself from the affectionate embrace of the President, when he found himself already in the arms of the clever Commissioner of Police; the police-master passed him over to the hands of the Inspector of the Medical Institutions; the Inspector of Hospitals gave him up to the arms of the Imperial Contractor, the Contractor to the Architect.

The Lord-Lieutenant, who was standing at that moment and conversing with several ladies and presenting them with some bonbons, left them hurriedly to go and greet his guest, nearly crushing the favourite lap-dog of his lady; in a word, Tchichikoff spread joy and pleasure all around him. There was not a face present that did not express satisfaction, or at least reflect the general gratification that suddenly prevailed over the company assembled. Our hero returned thanks and compliments to every one individually, and felt unusually versatile and cheerful; bowed right and left, as was his habit, slightly inclining towards on side, but with perfect ease, so that he charmed everybody.

The ladies, too, surrounded him like a garland of flowers, and spread as it were a cloud of a thousand perfumes over him: the one was scented like a rose, another like a violet, a third was strongly perfumed with patchouli.

Tchichikoff at first, did nothing else but raise his nose and smell about him. In their dresses there was immense taste; the muslin, satin, and other silk dresses were of such pale and fashionable colours, that it was impossible to find them a proper name, to such a degree had the perfection of taste risen. Ribbon-favours and artificial bouquets, were strewn in great profusion and in the most picturesque disorder all over their dresses, though this disorder must have cost some weary hours to some intelligent dressmaker. The light and graceful headdresses only rested on the tips of the ears, and they seemed to say: "oh, I am flying away, a pity it is that I cannot carry off my fairy herself!" Their waists were exceedingly well laced, and presented to the eye the most solid and well-proportioned forms (we must not forget to observe here, that the ladies of Smolensk were generally inclined to embonpoint, but used to lace so tightly and ingeniously, and were of so very agreeable manners that it was perfectly impossible to notice their fulness of body.)

All was with them, studied and preconcerted with unusual carefulness; their neck and shoulders were uncovered as much as was absolutely necessary, and not a hair\'s-breadth farther; every one of them displayed her powerful charms so long until she felt perfectly convinced they had succeeded to ruin the peace of a man; as for their other treasures they remained hidden with much ingenuity; either under a light silken fichu or some Brussels lace surrounding their graceful neck, and called by the ladies "modesties."

These modesties, wound before and behind, all that which was not calculated to effect the perdition of their admirer, but they allowed him to guess that it was really there that his perdition was hidden. Their long white kid gloves were not drawn up as high as the elbow, but were allowed to remain carelessly wrinkled a little above the hand, which thus displayed to greater advantage the fulness of a charming arm; the long gloves of some of the ladies had even become torn, in consequence of the charming roundness of their arms; in a word, all seemed to be impressed with the idea: no, this is not a provincial town in Russia, it is the capital itself, it is a second Paris.

Nevertheless, here and there an old-fashioned head-dress, never seen before on earth, or an extravagant plume would suddenly appear in the midst of fashion, as it were, to keep up contrast, and follow its own inclination. However, this could not be otherwise, such occurrences are inevitable in provincial............