r. And do you know I am surprised how well you speak
Russian. C'est etonnant."

Varvara Pavlovna sighed.

"I have been too long abroad, Marya Dmitrievna, I know that; but my
heart has always been Russian, and I have not forgotten my country."

"Ah, ah; that is good. Fedor Ivanitch did not, however, expect you at
all. Yes; you may trust my experience, la patri avant tout. Ah, show me,
if you please-what a charming mantle you have."

"Do you like it?" Varvara Pavlovna slipped it quickly off her shoulders;
"it is a very simple little thing from Madame Baudran."

"One can see it at once. From Madame Baudran? How sweet, and what taste!
I am sure you have brought a number of fascinating things with you. If I
could only see them."

"All my things are at your service, dearest auntie. If you permit, I can
show some patterns to your maid. I have a woman with me from Paris--a
wonderfully clever dressmaker."

"You are very good, my dear. But, really, I am ashamed"...

"Ashamed!" repeated Varvara Pavlovna reproachfully. "If you want to make
me happy, dispose of me as if I were your property."

Marya Dmitrievna was completely melted.

"Vous etes charmante," she said. "But why don't you take off your hat
and gloves?"

"What? you will allow me?" asked Varvara Pavlovna, and slightly, as
though with emotion, clasped her hands.

"Of course, you will dine with us, I hope. I--I will introduce you to my
daughter." Marya Dmitrievna was a little confused. "Well! we are in for
it! here goes!" she thought. "She is not very well to-day."

"O ma tante, how good you are!" cried Varvara Pavlovna, and she raised
her handkerchief to her eyes.

A page announced the arrival of Gedeonovsky. The old gossip came in
bowing and smiling. Marya Dmitrievna presented him to her visitor. He
was thrown into confusion for the first moment; but Varvara Pavlovna
behaved with such coquettish respectfulness to him, that his ears began
to tingle, and gossip, slander, and civility dropped like honey from his
lips. Varvara Pavlovna listened to him with a restrained smile and began
by degrees to talk herself. She spoke modestly of Paris, of her travels,
of Baden; twice she made Marya Dmitrievna laugh, and each time she
sighed a little afterwards, and seemed to be inwardly reproaching
herself for misplaced levity. She obtained permission to bring Ada;
taking off her gloves, with her smooth hands, redolent of soap a la
guimauve, she showed how and where flou