came very silent and very devout,
never once letting matins or mass go unheeded by, and she gave away
all her fine clothes. For fifteen years she led a quiet, grave,
peaceful life, quarrelling with no one, giving way to all. If any one
spoke to her harshly, she only bent her head and returned thanks for
the lesson. Her mistress had forgiven her long ago, and had taken the
ban off her--had even given her a cap off her own head to wear. But
she herself refused to doff her handkerchief, and she would never
consent to wear any but a sombre-colored dress. After the death of her
mistress she became even more quiet and more humble than before. It is
easy to work upon a Russian's fears and to secure his attachment, but
it is difficult to acquire his esteem; that he will not readily give,
nor will he give it to every one. But the whole household esteemed
Agafia. No one even so much as remembered her former faults; it was as
if they had been buried in the grave with her old master.

When Kalitine married Maria Dmitrievna, he wanted to entrust the
care of his household to Agafia; but she refused, "on account of
temptation." He began to scold her, but she only bowed low and left
the room. The shrewd Kalitine generally understood people; so he
understood Agafia's character, and did not lose sight of her. When he
settled in town, he appointed her, with her consent, to the post of
nurse to Liza, who was then just beginning her fifth year.

At first Liza was frightened by the serious, even severe, face of her
new nurse; but she soon became accustomed to her, and learned to
love her warmly. The child was of a serious disposition herself. Her
features called to mind Kalitine's regular and finely-moulded face,
but her eyes were not like those of her father; they shone with a
quiet light, expressive of an earnest goodness that is rarely seen in
children. She did not care about playing with dolls; she never laughed
loudly nor long, and a feeling of self-respect always manifested
itself in her conduct. It was not often that she fell into a reverie,
but when she did so there was almost always good reason for it; then
she would keep silence for a time, but generally ended by addressing
to some person older than herself a question which showed that her
mind had been working under the influence of a new impression. She
very soon got over her childish lisp, and even before she was four
years old she spoke with perfect distinctness. She was afrai