"Mamma will be glad to see you," replied Lisa; "she had heard of your
arrival."

"Let me see, I think your name is Elisaveta?" said Lavretsky, as he went
up the stairs.

"Yes."

"I remember you very well; you had even then a face one doesn't forget.
I used to bring you sweets in those days."

Lisa blushed and thought what a queer man. Lavretsky stopped for an
instant in the hall. Lisa went into the drawing-room, where Panshin's
voice and laugh could be heard; he had been communicating some gossip of
the town to Marya Dmitrievna, and Gedeonovksy, who by this time had come
in from the garden, and he was himself laughing aloud at the story he
was telling. At the name of Lavretsky, Marya Dmitrievna was all in a
flutter. She turned pale and went up to meet him.

"How do you do, how do you do, my dear cousin?" she cried in a plaintive
and almost tearful voice, "how glad I am to see you!"

"How are you, cousin?" replied Lavretsky, with a friendly pressure of
her out-stretched hand; "how has Providence been treating you?"

"Sit down, sit down, my dear Fedor Ivanitch. Ah, how glad I am! But
let me present my daughter Lisa to you."

"I have already introduced myself to Lisaveta Mihalovna," interposed