A House of Gentlefolk

e you in spite of its being seven years since I saw you last. You were

you,” replied Lisa; “she

e is Elisaveta?” said Lavrets

es

n then a face one doesn’t forget. I us

ld be heard; he had been communicating some gossip of the town to Marya Dmitrievna, and Gedeonovksy, who by this time had come in from the garden, and he was

sin?” she cried in a plaintive and almost

th a friendly pressure of her out-stretched

vanitch. Ah, how glad I am! But let

myself to Lisaveta Mihalo

novsky . . . Please sit down. When I look at y

, too, cousin — no ill-luck to you!—

here have you come from now? Where did you leave . . . that is, I meant to say

avretsky, “and to-morrow I shall go into

ve at Lavrik

a little place twenty miles

tate that came to you

es

! You have such a magni

itted his br

tle property, and I need nothing more for a time

g into conversation with Lavretsky. Marya Dmitrievna regained her composure, she leaned back in her arm-chair and now and then put in a word. But she looked all the while wit

lied Marya Dmitrievn

u didn’t seem to

tter to me; I see, my good fellow, it’s all like water on a duck’s back for you; any other man would have wasted away with grief,

the wild health of the steppes, with vigorous primaeval energy. He was splendidly well-built, and his fair curly hair stood up on his head like a boy’s. It was only in his blue eyes, wit

ling, on which he had lately read two French pamphlets, and with modest composure undertook to expo

ding his face off at arm’s length. “Ah! what a splendid fellow you are! You’ve grown older a little, but not a bit changed for the worse, upon my word! But why are you kissing my hands — kiss my face if you’re not afraid of my wrinkled cheeks. You never asked after me — whether your aunt was

hing,” Lavretsky h

w where, and they don’t even give him a cup of tea! Lisa, run and stir them up, and make haste. I re

Panshin, approaching the delighted o

ke your mother, the poor darling,” she went on turning again to Lavretsky, “but your nose was alway

ng to-mor

he

Vassily

morr

to-m

u were going to dangle about abroad. Well, you’re a fine lad, a fine lad; can you lift twenty stone with one hand as you used to do, eh? Your late pap was fantastical in some things, if I may say so; but he did well in having that Swiss to bring you up; do you remember you used to fight with your fists with him?— gymnastics, wasn’t it they called it? But there, why I am gabbling away like this; I have only

f Lavretsky’s conversation with Marya Dmitrievna, Panshin, and Marfa Timofyevna, he sat in a corner, blinking attentive

s it is?” Lisa did not speak, and looked on the ground, without smiling, with her brows slightly contracted, and a flush on her cheek, but she did not draw away her hands. While up-stairs, in Marfa Timofyevna’s room, by the light of a little lamp hanging before the tarnished old holy images, Lavretsky was sitting in a low chair, his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his