hat lately?" asked Lemm.

"Yes, lately."

"O--oh," repeated the old man, raising his eyebrows. "And she is here?"

"Yes. She is at my house now; and I... I am an unlucky fellow."

And he laughed again.

"You are an unlucky fellow," Lemm repeated slowly.

"Christopher Fedoritch," began Lavretsky, "would you undertake to carry
a note for me?"

"H'm. May I know to whom?"

"Lisavet--"

"Ah... yes, yes, I understand. Very good. And when must the letter be
received?"

"To-morrow, as early as possible."

"H'm. I can send Katrine, my cook. No, I will go myself."

"And you will bring me an answer?"

"Yes, I will bring you an answer."

Lemm sighed.

"Yes, my poor young friend; you are certainly an unlucky young man."

Lavretsky wrote a few words to Lisa. He told her of his wife's arrival,
begged her to appoint a meeting with him,--then he flung himself on the
narrow sofa, with his face to the wall; and the old man lay down on
the bed, and kept muttering a long while, coughing and drinking off his
decoction by gulps.

The morning came; they both got up. With strange eyes they looked at
one another. At that moment Lavretsky longed to kill himself. The cook,
Katrine, brought them some villainous coffee. It struck eight. Lemm
put on his hat, and saying that he was going to give a lesson at the
Kalitins' at ten, but he could find a suitable pretext for going there
now, he set off. Lavretsky flung himself again on the little sofa, and
once more the same bitter laugh stirred in the depth of his soul. He
thought of how his wife had driven him out of his house; he imagined
Lisa's position, covered his eyes and clasped his hands behind his head.
At last Lemm came back and brought him a scrap of paper, on which Lisa
had scribbled in pencil the following words: "We cannot meet to-day;
perhaps, to-morrow evening. Good-bye." Lavretsky thanked Lemm briefly
and indifferently, and went home.

He found his wife at breakfast; Ada, in curl-papers, in a little white
frock with blue ribbons, was eating her mutton cutlet. Varvara Pavlovna
rose at once directly Lavretsky entered the room, and went to meet him
with humility in her face. He asked her to follow him into the study,
shut the door after them, and began to walk up and down; she sat
down, modestly laying one hand over the other, and began to follow his
movements with her eyes, which were still beautiful, though they were
pencilled lightly under their lids.

For some ti