to make a speech at the trial. Neither he nor Liputin seem very
much afraid, curious as it seems.

I repeat that the case is not yet over. Now, three months afterwards,
local society has had time to rest, has recovered, has got over it, has
an opinion of its own, so much so that some people positively look
upon Pyotr Stepanovitch as a genius or at least as possessed of "some
characteristics of a genius." "Organisation!" they say at the club,
holding up a finger. But all this is very innocent and there are not
many people who talk like that. Others, on the other hand, do not deny
his acuteness, but point out that he was utterly ignorant of real life,
that he was terribly theoretical, grotesquely and stupidly one-sided,
and consequently shallow in the extreme. As for his moral qualities all
are agreed; about that there are no two opinions.

I do not know whom to mention next so as not to forget anyone. Mavriky
Nikolaevitch has gone away for good, I don't know where. Old Madame
Drozdov has sunk into dotage.... I have still one very gloomy story to
tell, however. I will confine myself to the bare facts.

On her return from Ustyevo, Varvara Petrovna stayed at her town house.
All the accumulated news broke upon her at once and gave her a terrible
shock. She shut herself up alone. It was evening; every one was tired
and went to bed early.

In the morning a maid with a mysterious air handed a note to Darya
Pavlovna. The note had, so she said, arrived the evening before, but
late, when all had gone to bed, so that she had not ventured to wake
her. It had not come by post, but had been put in Alexey Yegorytch's
hand in Skvoreshniki by some unknown person. And Alexey Yegorytch had
immediately set off and put it into her hands himself and had then
returned to Skvoreshniki.

For a long while Darya Pavlovna gazed at the letter with a beating
heart, and dared not open it. She knew from whom it came: the writer was
Nikolay Stavrogin. She read what was written on the envelope: "To Alexey
Yegorytch, to be given secretly to Darya Pavlovna."

Here is the letter word for word, without the slightest correction of
the defects in style of a Russian aristocrat who had never mastered the
Russian grammar in spite of his European education.

"Dear Darya Pavlovna,--At one time you expressed a wish to be my nurse
and made me promise to send for you when I wanted you. I am going away
in two days and shall not come back. Will you go with me?