kinds! All
the storehouses were full and overflowing. He was a manager. That very
decanter, that you were pleased to admire, was his; he used to drink
brandy out of it. But there was your grandfather, Piotr Andreitch, built
himself a palace of stone, but he never grew rich; everything with him
went badly, and he lived worse than his father by far, and he got no
pleasure from it for himself, but spent all his money, and now there is
nothing to remember him by--not a silver spoon has come down from him,
and we have Glafira Petrovna's management to thank for all that is
saved.

"But is it true," Lavretsky interrupted him, "they called her the old
witch?"

"What sort of people called her so, I should like to know!" replied
Anton with an air of displeasure.

"And little father," the old man one day found courage to ask, "what
about our mistress, where is she pleased to fix her residence?"

"I am separated from my wife," Lavretsky answered with an effort,
"please do not ask questions about her."

"Yes, sir," replied the old man mournfully.

After three weeks had passed by, Lavretsky rode into O----- to the
Kalitins, and spent an evening with them. Lemm was there; Lavretsky
took a great liking to him. Although thanks to his father, he played
no instrument, he was passionately fond of music, real classical music.
Panshin was not at the Kalitins' that evening. The governor had sent him
off to some place out of the town. Lisa played alone and very correct;
Lemm woke up, got excited, twisted a piece of paper into a roll, and
conducted. Marya Dmitrievna laughed at first, as she looked at him,
later on she went off to bed; in her own words, Beethoven was too
agitating for her nerves. At midnight Lavretsky accompanied Lemm to his
lodging and stopped there with him till three o'clock in the morning.
Lemm talked a great deal; his bent figure grew erect, his eyes opened
wide and flashed fire; his hair even stood up on his forehead. It was
so long since any one had shown him any sympathy, and Lavretsky was
obviously interested in him, he was plying him with sympathetic and
attentive questions. This touched the old man; he ended by showing the
visitor his music, played and even sang in a faded voice some extracts
from his works, among others the whole of Schiller's ballad, Fridolin,
set by him to music. Lavretsky admired it, made him repeat some
passages, and at parting, invited him to stay a few days with him. Lemm,
as he accomp