"I didn't hear it," said the new-comer, in imperfect Russian. Then,
having bowed to all the party, he stood still in an awkward attitude
in the middle of the room.

"I suppose, Monsieur Lemm," said Maria Dmitrievna, "you have come to
give Liza a music lesson."

"No; not Lizaveta Mikhailovna, but Elena Miknailovna."

"Oh, indeed! very good. Lenochka, go up-stairs with Monsieur Lemm."

The old man was about to follow the little girl, when Panshine stopped
him.

"Don't go away when the lesson is over, Christopher Fedorovich," he
said. "Lizaveta Mikhailovna and I are going to play a duet--one of
Beethoven's sonatas."

The old man muttered something to himself, but Panshine continued in
German, pronouncing the words very badly--

"Lizaveta Mikhailovna has shown me the sacred cantata which you have
dedicated to her--a very beautiful piece! I beg you will not suppose
I am unable to appreciate serious music. Quite the reverse. It is
sometimes tedious; but, on the other hand, it is extremely edifying."

The old man blushed to the ears, cast a side glance at Liza, and went
hastily out of the room.

Maria Dmitrievna asked Panshine to repeat his romance; but he declared