excited, as he always felt at that time of the year.

"I wonder if she is still there?" he thought, as he drove into the
familiar court-yard of the old manor, which was covered with snow that
fell from the roofs, and was surrounded by a low brick wall. He
expected that the ringing of the bell would bring her running to meet
him, but on the perron of the servants' quarters appeared two
bare-footed women with tucked-up skirts, carrying buckets, who were
apparently scrubbing floors. She was not on the front perron, either;
only Timon, the lackey, came forth in an apron, also apparently
occupied with cleaning. Sophia Ivanovna came into the ante-chamber,
attired in a silk dress and cap.

"How glad I am that you came!" said Sophia Ivanovna. "Masheuka[B] is
somewhat ill. We were to church, receiving the sacrament. She is very
tired."

"I congratulate you, Aunt Sonia,"[C] said Nekhludoff, kissing the hand
of Sophia Ivanovna. "Pardon me, I have soiled you."

"Go to your room. You are wet all through. Oh, what a mustache!
Katiousha! Katiousha! Bring him some coffee quickly."

"All right!" responded a familiar, pleasant voice. Nekhludoff's heart
fluttered. "She is here!" To him it was like the sun rising from
behind the clouds, and he cheerfully went with Timon to his old room
to change his clothing.

Nekhludoff wished to ask Timon about Katiousha. Was she well? How did
she fare? Was she not engaged to be married? But Timon was so