'So what message do you give me for Darya Mihailovna?' began
Pandalevsky, slightly hurt at the fate of the flower he had given her.
'Will you come to dinner? She invites your brother too.'

'Yes; we will come, most certainly. And how is Natasha?'

'Natalya Alexyevna is well, I am glad to say. But we have already
passed the road that turns off to Darya Mihailovna's. Allow me to bid
you good-bye.'

Alexandra Pavlovna stopped. 'But won't you come in?' she said in a
hesitating voice.

'I should like to, indeed, but I am afraid it is late. Darya
Mihailovna wishes to hear a new etude of Thalberg's, so I must
practise and have it ready. Besides, I am doubtful, I must confess,
whether my visit could afford you any pleasure.'

'Oh, no! why?'

Pandalevsky sighed and dropped his eyes expressively.

'Good-bye, Alexandra Pavlovna!' he said after a slight pause; then he
bowed and turned back.

Alexandra Pavlovna turned round and went home.

Konstantin Diomiditch, too, walked homewards. All softness had
vanished at once from his face; a self-confident, almost hard