being that extremely attentive manager of
the household, his wife.

She made him happy with a son; but the poor child did not live long.
It died in the spring; and in the summer, in accordance with the
advice of the doctors, Lavretsky and his wife went the round of the
foreign watering-places. Distraction was absolutely necessary for her
after such a misfortune; and, besides, her health demanded a warmer
climate. That summer and autumn they spent in Germany and Switzerland;
and in the winter, as might be expected, they went to Paris.

In Paris Varvara Pavlovna bloomed like a rose; and there, just as
quickly and as skilfully as she had done in St. Petersburg, she learnt
how to build herself a snug little nest. She procured a very pretty
set of apartments in one of the quiet but fashionable streets, she
made her husband such a dressing-gown as he had never worn before; she
secured an elegant lady's maid, an excellent cook, and an energetic
footman; and she provided herself with an exquisite carriage, and a
charming cabinet piano. Before a week was over she could already cross
a street, put on a shawl, open a parasol, and wear gloves, as well as
the most pure-blooded of Parisian women.

She soon made acquaintances also. At first only Russians used to
come to her house; then Frenchmen began to show themselves--amiable
bachelors, of polished manners, exquisite in demeanor, and bearing
high-sounding names. They all talked a great deal and very fast,
they bowed gracefully, their eyes twinkled pleasantly. All of them
possessed teeth which gleamed white between rosy lips; and how
beautifully they smiled! Each of them brought his friends; and before
long _La belle Madame de Lavretski_ became well known from the
_Chausee d' Antin_ to the _Rue de Lille_. At that time--it was in
1836--the race of _feuilletonists_ and journalists, which now swarms
everywhere, numerous as the ants one sees when a hole is made in an
ant-hill, had not yet succeeded in multiplying in numbers. Still,
there used to appear in Varvara Pavlovna's drawing-room a certain M.
Jules, a gentleman who bore a very bad character, whose appearance
was unprepossessing, and whose manner was at once insolent and
cringing--like that of all duellists and people who have been
horsewhipped. Varvara disliked this M. Jules very much; but she
received him because he wrote in several newspapers, and used to be
constantly mentioning her, calling her sometimes Madame de L ... t