



Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive.








Transcriber's Note:

   1. Page scan source:
      http://www.archive.org/details/asbeinfromlifeof00schuiala







[Illustration: With hands lightly folded in her lap and head leaned
back against her chair, Natalie has listened. In the beginning she had
been carried out of herself by a feeling of painfully sweet happiness,
but now she felt strangely oppressed. _p. 36_.]






                                 ASBEIN

                      FROM THE LIFE OF A VIRTUOSO



                                   BY
                             OSSIP SCHUBIN



                    _TRANSLATED BY ELISE L. LATHROP_




                                NEW YORK
                     WORTHINGTON CO., 747 BROADWAY
                                  1890






                          Copyright, 1890, by
                            WORTHINGTON CO.






                      Press of J.J. Little & Co.,
                        Astor Place, New York.






                                ASBEIN.[1]





                              FIRST BOOK.


"But--do you really not recognize me?" With these words, and with
friendly, outstretched hands, a young lady hastened toward a man who,
with gloomily contracted brow, wrapped in thought, went on his way
without noticing either her or his surroundings. He was foolish, for
his surroundings were picturesque--Rome, near the Fontana di Trevi, on
a bright March afternoon. And the young lady--she was charming.

Although she had called to him in French, something about her--one
could scarcely have told what--betrayed the Russian; everything, the
pampered woman from the highest circles of society.

The young man whose attention she had sought to attract in such a
violent and unconventional manner was just as evidently a Russian, but
of quite a different condition. One could hardly decide to what