vara Pavlovna, seating herself on a
chair in an attitude expressive of humility. "I have seen my husband,
and I have spoken with him."

"Ah! Well, and what did he say?"

"I was afraid that my coming so suddenly might make him angry,"
continued Varvara Pavlovna; "but he did not refuse to see me."

"That is to say, he has not--Yes, yes, I understand," said Maria
Dmitrievna. "It is only outwardly that he seems a little rough; his
heart is really soft."

"Fedor Ivanovich has not pardoned me. He did not want to listen to me.
But he has been good enough to let me have Lavriki to live in."

"Ah, a lovely place!"

"I shall set off there to-morrow, according to his desire. But I
considered it a duty to pay you a visit first."

"I am very, very much obliged to you my dear. One ought never to
forget one's relations. But do you know I am astonished at your
speaking Russian so well. _C'est etonnant_."

Varvara Pavlovna smiled.

"I have been too long abroad, Maria Dmitrievna, I am well aware of
that. But my heart has always been Russian, and I have not forgotten
my native land."

"Yes, yes. There's nothing like that. Your husband certainly didn't
expect you in the least. Yes, trust my experience--_la patrie avant
tout_. Oh! please let me! What a charming mantilla you have on!"

"Do you like it?" Varvara took it quickly off her shoulders. "It is
very simple; one of Madame Baudran's."

"One can see that at a glance. How lovely, and in what exquisite
taste! I feel sure you've brought a number of charming things with
you. How I should like to see them!"

"All my toilette is at your service, dearest aunt. I might show your
maid something if you liked. I have brought a maid from Paris, a
wonderful needle-woman."

"You are exceedingly good, my dear. But, really, I haven't the
conscience--"

"Haven't the conscience!" repeated Varvara Pavlovna, in a reproachful
tone. "If you wish to make me happy, you will dispose of me as if I
belonged to you."

Maria Dmitrievna fairly gave way.

"_Vous etes charmante_," she said. But why don't you take off your
bonnet and gloves?"

"What! You allow me?" asked Varvara Pavlovna, gently clasping her
hands with an air of deep emotion.

"Of course. You will dine with us, I hope. I--I will introduce my
daughter to you." (Maria Dmitrievna felt embarrassed for a moment, but
then, "Well, so be it," she thought.) "She happens not to be quite
well to-day.'

"Oh! _ma tante_, how kind you ar