the entrance of Varvara
Petrovna, sank helplessly into an arm-chair on hearing Praskovya
Ivanovna's squeal, and tried to catch my eye with a look of despair.
Shatov turned sharply in his chair, and growled something to himself.
I believe he meant to get up and go away. Liza rose from her chair but
sank back again at once without even paying befitting attention to her
mother's squeal--not from "waywardness," but obviously because she
was entirely absorbed by some other overwhelming impression. She was
looking absent-mindedly into the air, no longer noticing even Marya
Timofyevna.

III

"Ach, here!" Praskovya Ivanovna indicated an easy chair near the table
and sank heavily into it with the assistance of Mavriky Nikolaevitch.
"I wouldn't have sat down in your house, my lady, if it weren't for my
legs," she added in a breaking voice.

Varvara Petrovna raised her head a little, and with an expression of
suffering pressed the fingers of her right hand to her right temple,
evidently in acute pain _(tic douloureux)_.

"Why so, Praskovya Ivanovna; why wouldn't you sit down in my house? I
possessed your late husband's sincere friendship all his life; and you
and I used to play with our dolls at school together as girls."

Praskovya Ivanovna waved her hands.

"I knew that was coming! You always begin about the school when you want
to reproach me--that's your way. But to my thinking that's only fine
talk. I can't stand the school you're always talking about."

"You've come in rather a bad temper, I'm afraid; how are your legs? Here
they're bringing you some coffee, please have some, drink it and don't
be cross."

"Varvara Petrovna, you treat me as though I were a child. I won't have
any coffee, so there!"

And she pettishly waved away the footman who was bringing her coffee.
(All the others refused coffee too except Mavriky Nikolaevitch and me.
Stepan Trofimovitch took it, but put it aside on the table. Though Marya
Timofyevna was very eager to have another cup and even put out her hand
to take it, on second thoughts she refused it ceremoniously, and was
obviously pleased with herself for doing so.)

Varvara Petrovna gave a wry smile.

"I'll tell you what it is, Praskovya Ivanovna, my friend, you must
have taken some fancy into your head again, and that's why you've come.
You've simply lived on fancies all your life. You flew into a fury at
the mere mention of our school; but do you remember how you came and
persua