iate expression.

"Do you know,"--she whispered to Varvara Pavlovna:--"I want to make an
effort to reconcile you with your husband: I do not guarantee success,
but I will try. You know that he has great respect for me."

Varvara Pavlovna slowly raised her eyes to Marya Dmitrievna, and
clasped her hands prettily.

"You would be my saviour, _ma tante_,"--she said, in a mournful
voice:--"I do not know how to thank you for all your affection; but I am
too guilty toward Feodor Ivanitch; he cannot forgive me."

"But is it possible that you ... really ..." began Marya Dmitrievna,
with curiosity.

"Do not ask me,"--Varvara Pavlovna interrupted her, and dropped her
eyes.--"I was young, giddy.... However, I do not wish to defend myself."

"Well, nevertheless, why not make the effort? Do not despair,"--returned
Marya Dmitrievna, and was on the point of patting her on the shoulder,
but glanced at her face--and grew timid. "She is a modest, modest
creature,"--she thought,--"and exactly like a young girl still."

"Are you ill?"--Panshin was saying, meanwhile, to Liza.

"Yes, I am not very well."

"I understand you,"--he said, after a rather prolonged silence.--"Yes, I
understand you."

"How so?"

"I understand you,"--significantly repeated Panshin, who simply did not
know what to say.

Liza became confused, and then said to herself: "So be it!" Panshin
assumed a mysterious air, and fell silent, gazing severely to one side.

"But the clock has struck eleven, I think,"--remarked Marya Dmitrievna.

The guests understood the hint, and began to take their leave. Varvara
Pavlovna was made to promise that she would come to dinner on the
morrow, and bring Ada; Gedeonovsky, who had almost fallen asleep as he
sat in one corner, offered to escort her home. Panshin solemnly saluted
every one, and at the steps, as he put Varvara Pavlovna into her
carriage, he pressed her hand and shouted after her: "_Au revoir!_"
Gedeonovsky seated himself by her side; all the way home, she amused
herself by placing the tip of her foot on his foot, as though by
accident; he became confused, and paid her compliments; she giggled and
made eyes at him when the light from a street-lantern fell on the
carriage. The waltz which she had herself played, rang in her head, and
excited her; wherever she happened to find herself, all she had to do was
to imagine to herself lights, a ball-room, the swift whirling to the
sounds of music--and her soul went fair