o temper her zeal, and would not let
her make too many prostrations to the earth in her prayers; it was not a
lady-like habit, she would say. In her studies Lisa worked well, that
is to say perseveringly; she was not gifted with specially brilliant
abilities, or great intellect; she could not succeed in anything without
labour. She played the piano well, but only Lemm knew what it had cost
her. She had read little; she had not "words of her own," but she had
her own ideas, and she went her own way. It was not only on the surface
that she took after her father; he, too, had never asked other people
what was to be done. So she had grown up tranquilly and restfully till
she had reached the age of nineteen. She was very charming, without
being aware of it herself. Her every movement was full of spontaneous,
somewhat awkward gracefulness; her voice had the silvery ring of
untouched youth, the least feeling of pleasure called forth an
enchanting smile on her lips, and added a deep light and a kind of
mystic sweetness to her kindling eyes. Penetrated through and through by
a sense of duty, by the dread of hurting any one whatever, with a kind
and tender heart, she had loved all men, and no one in particular; God
only she had! loved passionately, timidly, and tenderly. Lavretsky was
the first to break in upon her peaceful inner life.

Such was Lisa.

Chapter XXXVI

On the following day at twelve o'clock, Lavretsky set off to the
Kalitins. On the way he met Panshin, who galloped past him on horseback,
his hat pulled down to his very eyebrows. At the Kalitins', Lavretsky
was not admitted for the first time since he had been acquainted with
them. Marya Dmitrievna was "resting," so the footman informed him; her
excellency had a headache. Marfa Timofyevna and Lisaveta Mihalovna were
not at home. Lavretsky walked round the garden in the faint hope of
meeting Lisa, but he saw no one. He came back two hours later and
received the same answer, accompanied by a rather dubious look from the
footman. Lavretsky thought it would be unseemly to call for a third time
the same day, and he decided to drive over to Vassilyevskoe, where he
had business moreover. On the road he made various plans for the future,
each better than the last; but he was overtaken by a melancholy mood
when he reached his aunt's little village. He fell into conversation!
with Anton; the old man, as if purposely, seemed full of cheerless
fancies. He told Lavretsk