y on the table.

Fedor Ivanitch started; the paper had been marked in pencil. Varvara
Pavlovna gazed at him with still greater humility. She was superb at
that moment. Her grey Parisian gown clung gracefully round her supple,
almost girlish figure; her slender, soft neck, encircled by a white
collar, her bosom gently stirred by her even breathing, her hands
innocent of bracelets and rings--her whole figure, from her shining hair
to the tip of her just visible little shoe, was so artistic...

Lavretsky took her in with a glance of hatred; scarcely could he refrain
from crying: "Bravo!" scarcely could he refrain from felling her with a
blow of his fist on her shapely head--and he turned on his heel. An
hour later he had started for Vassilyevskoe, and two hours later Varvara
Pavlovna had bespoken the best carriage in the town, had put on a simple
straw hat with a black veil, and a modest mantle, given Ada into the
charge of Justine, and set off to the Kalitins'. From the inquiries she
had made among the servants, she had learnt that her husband went to see
them every day.

Chapter XXXVIII

The day of the arrival of Lavretsky's wife at the town of O-----, a
sorrowful day for him, and been also a day of misery for Lisa. She had
not had time to go down-stairs and say good-morning to her mother, when
the tramp of hoofs was heard under the window, and with a secret dismay
she saw Panshin riding into the courtyard. "He has come so early for a
final explanation," she thought, and she was not mistaken. After a turn
in the drawing-room, he suggested that she should go with him into the
garden, and then asked her for the decision of his fate. Lisa summoned
up all her courage and told him that she could not be his wife. He heard
her to the end, standing on one side of her and pulling his hat down
over his forehead; courteously, but in a changed voice, he asked her,
"Was this her last word, and had he given her any ground for such a
change in her views?"--then pressed his hand to his eyes, sighed softly
and abruptly, and took his head away from his face again.

"I did not want to go along the beaten track," he said huskily. "I
wanted to choose a wife according to the dictates of my heart; but it
seems this was not to be. Farewell, fond dream!" He made Lisa a profound
bow, and went back into the house.

She hoped that he would go away at once; but he went into Marya
Dmitrievna's room and remained nearly an hour with her. As