with an unusually violent stutter and his face scarlet
with indignation, that he had never been a c-c-colonel, but only a
l-l-lieutenant, Papa called him "Colonel" again before another five
minutes were out.

Lubotshka told me that, up to the time of Woloda's and my arrival from
Moscow, there had been daily meetings with the Epifanovs, and that
things had been very lively, since Papa, who had a genius for arranging,
everything with a touch of originality and wit, as well as in a simple
and refined manner, had devised shooting and fishing parties and
fireworks for the Epifanovs' benefit. All these festivities--so said
Lubotshka--would have gone off splendidly but for the intolerable Peter,
who had spoilt everything by his puffing and stuttering. After our
coming, however, the Epifanovs only visited us twice, and we went once
to their house, while after St. Peter's Day (on which, it being Papa's
nameday, the Epifanovs called upon us in common with a crowd of other
guests) our relations with that family came entirely to an end, and, in
future, only Papa went to see them.

During the brief period when I had opportunities of seeing Papa and
Dunetchka (as her mother called Avdotia) together, this is what I
remarked about them. Papa remained unceasingly in the same buoyant mood
as had so greatly struck me on the day after our arrival. So gay and
youthful and full of life and happy did he seem that the beams of
his felicity extended themselves to all around him, and involuntarily
communicated to them a similar frame of mind. He never stirred from
Avdotia's side so long as she was in the room, but either kept on plying
her with sugary-sweet compliments which made me feel ashamed for him
or, with his gaze fixed upon her with an air at once passionate and
complacent, sat hitching his shoulder and coughing as from time to time
he smiled and whispered something in her ear. Yet throughout he wore
the same expression of raillery as was peculiar to him even in the most
serious matters.

As a rule, Avdotia herself seemed to catch the infection of the
happiness which sparkled at this period in Papa's large blue eyes; yet
there were moments also when she would be seized with such a fit of
shyness that I, who knew the feeling well, was full of sympathy and
compassion as I regarded her embarrassment. At moments of this kind she
seemed to be afraid of every glance and every movement--to be supposing
that every one was looking at her, eve