d
to say. But who is there nowadays who doesn't intrigue? It is the
custom of the present age. A friend of mine--a most respectable man,
and one, I may as well observe, of no slight rank--used to say,
'Nowadays, it seems, if a hen wants a grain of corn she approaches it
cunningly, watches anxiously for an opportunity of sidling up to it.'
But when I look at you, dear lady, I recognize in you a truly angelic
nature. May I be allowed to kiss your snow-white hand?"

Maria Dmitrievna slightly smiled, and held out her plump hand to
Gedeonovsky, keeping the little finger gracefully separated from the
rest; and then, after he had raised her hand to his lips, she drew her
chair closer to his, bent a little towards him, and asked, in a low
voice--

"So you have seen him? And is he really well and in good spirits?"

"In excellent spirits," replied Gedeonovsky in a whisper.

"You haven't heard where his wife is now?"

"A short time ago she was in Paris; but she is gone away, they say,
and is now in Italy."

"Really it is shocking--Fedia's position. I can't think how he manages
to bear it. Every one, of course, has his misfortunes; but his
affairs, one may say, have become known all over Europe."

Gedeonovsky sighed.

"Quite so, quite so! They say she has made friends with artists and
pianists; or, as they call them there, with lions and other wild
beasts. She has completely lost all sense of shame--"

"It's very, very sad," said Maria Dmitrievna; "especially for a
relation. You know, don't you, Sergius Petrovich, that he is a
far-away cousin of mine?"

"To be sure, to be sure! You surely don't suppose I could be ignorant
of any thing that concerns your family."

"Will he come to see us? What do you think?"

"One would suppose so; but afterwards, I am told, he will go and live
on his estate in the country."

Maria Dmitrievna lifted her eyes towards heaven.

"Oh, Sergius Petrovich, Sergius Petrovich! how often I think how
necessary it is for us women to behave circumspectly!"

"There are women and women, Maria Dmitrievna. There are,
unfortunately, some who are--of an unstable character; and then there
is a certain time of life--and, besides, good principles have not been
instilled into them when they were young."

Here Sergius Petrovich drew from his pocket a blue handkerchief, of a
check pattern, and began to unfold it.

"Such women, in fact, do exist."

Here Sergius Petrovich applied a corner of the handker