omiest impression. As I was told, Yulia Mihailovna said
afterwards it was from this ill-omened morning that she first noticed in
her husband that strange depression which persisted in him until he
left our province on account of illness two months ago, and, I believe,
haunts him still in Switzerland, where he has gone for a rest after his
brief career amongst us.

I remember at one o'clock in the afternoon I crossed the marketplace;
the crowd was silent and their faces solemn and gloomy. A merchant, fat
and sallow, drove up, got out of his carriage, made a bow to the ground,
kissed the ikon, offered a rouble, sighing, got back into his carriage
and drove off. Another carriage drove up with two ladies accompanied
by two of our scapegraces. The young people (one of whom was not quite
young) got out of their carriage too, and squeezed their way up to the
ikon, pushing people aside rather carelessly. Neither of the young men
took off his hat, and one of them put a pince-nez on his nose. In the
crowd there was a murmur, vague but unfriendly. The dandy with the
pince-nez took out of his purse, which was stuffed full of bank-notes,
a copper farthing and flung it into the dish. Both laughed, and, talking
loudly, went back to their carriage. At that moment Lizaveta Nikolaevna
galloped up, escorted by Mavriky Nikolaevitch. She jumped off her horse,
flung the reins to her companion, who, at her bidding, remained on his
horse, and approached the ikon at the very moment when the farthing had
been flung down. A flush of indignation suffused her cheeks; she took
off her round hat and her gloves, fell straight on her knees before the
ikon on the muddy pavement, and reverently bowed down three times to the
earth. Then she took out her purse, but as it appeared she had only a
few small coins in it she instantly took off her diamond ear-rings and
put them in the dish.

"May I? May I? For the adornment of the setting?" she asked the monk.

"It is permitted," replied the latter, "every gift is good." The crowd
was silent, expressing neither dissent nor approval.

Liza got on her horse again, in her muddy riding-habit, and galloped
away.

II

Two days after the incident I have described I met her in a numerous
company, who were driving out on some expedition in three coaches,
surrounded by others on horseback. She beckoned to me, stopped her
carriage, and pressingly urged me to join their party. A place was
found for me in the carri