itating voice.

'I should like to, indeed, but I am afraid it is late. Darya Mihailovna
wishes to hear a new etude of Thalberg's, so I must practise and have
it ready. Besides, I am doubtful, I must confess, whether my visit could
afford you any pleasure.'

'Oh, no! why?'

Pandalevsky sighed and dropped his eyes expressively.

'Good-bye, Alexandra Pavlovna!' he said after a slight pause; then he
bowed and turned back.

Alexandra Pavlovna turned round and went home.

Konstantin Diomiditch, too, walked homewards. All softness had vanished
at once from his face; a self-confident, almost hard expression came
into it. Even his walk was changed; his steps were longer and he trod
more heavily. He had walked about two miles, carelessly swinging his
cane, when all at once he began to smile again: he saw by the roadside a
young, rather pretty peasant girl, who was driving some calves out of an
oat-field. Konstantin Diomiditch approached the girl as warily as a cat,
and began to speak to her. She said nothing at first, only blushed and
laughed, but at last she hid her face in her sleeve, turned away, and
muttered:

'Go away, sir; upon my word...'

Konstantin Diomiditch shook his finger at her and told her to bring him
some cornflowers.

'What do you want with cornflowers?--to make a wreath?' replied the
girl; 'come now, go along then.'

'Stop a minute, my pretty little dear,' Konstantin Diomiditch was
beginning.

'There now, go along,' the girl interrupted him, 'there are the young
gentlemen coming.'

Konstantin Diomiditch looked round. There really were Vanya and Petya,
Darya Mihailovna's sons, running along the road; after them walked their
tutor, Bassistoff, a young man of two-and-twenty, who had only just left
college. Bassistoff was a well-grown youth, with a simple face, a large
nose, thick lips, and small pig's eyes, plain and awkward, but kind,
good, and upright. He dressed untidily and wore his hair long--not from
affectation, but from laziness; he liked eating and he liked sleeping,
but he also liked a good book, and an earnest conversation, and he hated
Pandalevsky from the depths of his soul.

Darya Mihailovna's children worshipped Bassistoff, and yet were not in
the least afraid of him; he was on a friendly footing with all the
rest of the household, a fact which was not altogether pleasing to
its mistress, though she was fond of declaring that for her social
prejudices did not exist.

'Good-mornin