14th June. VERA and her husband left this morning for Kislovodsk. I met their carriage as I was walking to Princess Ligovski's. Vera nodded to me: reproach was in her glance. Who is to blame, then? Why will she not give me an opportunity of seeing her alone? Love is like fire -- if not fed it dies out. Perchance, jealousy will accomplish what my entreaties have failed to do. I stayed a whole hour at Princess Ligovski's. Mary has not been out, A HERO OF OUR TIME she is ill. In the evening she was not on the boulevard. The newly formed gang, armed with lorgnettes, has in very fact assumed a menacing aspect. I am glad that Princess Mary is ill; they might be guilty of some impertinence towards her. Grushnitski goes about with dishevelled locks, and wears an appearance of despair: he is evidently afflicted, as a matter of fact; his vanity especially has been injured. But, you see, there are some people in whom even despair is divert- ing! . . . On my way home I noticed that something was lacking. I have not seen her! She is ill! Surely I have not fallen in love with her in real earnest? . . . What nonsense!