what can she be thinking about?"

"Really, auntie, you are always so..." muttered Marya Dmitrievna in a
tone of vexation, drumming on the arm of her chair with her finger-tips.

"Sergei Petrovitch Gedeonovsky!" was announced in a shrill piping voice,
by a rosy-cheeked little page who made his appearance at the door.



Chapter II


A tall man entered, wearing a tidy overcoat, rather short trousers, grey
doeskin gloves, and two neckties--a black one outside, and a white one
below it. There was an air of decorum and propriety in everything about
him, from his prosperous countenance and smoothly brushed hair, to his
low-heeled, noiseless boots. He bowed first to the lady of the house,
then to Marfa Timofyevna, and slowly drawing off his gloves, he advanced
to take Marya Dmitrievna's hand. After kissing it respectfully twice he
seated himself with deliberation in an arm-chair, and rubbing the very
tips of his fingers together, he observed with a smile--

"And is Elisaveta Mihalovna quite well?"

"Yes," replied Marya Dmitrievna, "she's in the garden."

"And Elena Mihalovna?"

"Lenotchka's in the garden too. Is there no news?"