is too little to say: your behaviour is a pain and an outrage to
me--to me and to your mother--your mother whom you see here.'

Nikolai Artemyevitch was giving vent only to the few bass notes in his
voice. Elena gazed in silence at him, then at Anna Vassilyevna and
turned pale.

'There was a time,' Nikolai Artemyevitch resumed, 'when daughters did
not allow themselves to look down on their parents--when the parental
authority forced the disobedient to tremble. That time has passed,
unhappily: so at least many persons imagine; but let me tell you,
there are still laws which do not permit--do not permit--in fact
there are still laws. I beg you to mark that: there are still
laws----'

'But, papa,' Elena was beginning.

'I beg you not to interrupt me. Let us turn in thought to the past. I
and Anna Vassilyevna have performed our duty. I and Anna Vassilyevna
have spared nothing in your education: neither care nor expense. What
you have gained from our care--is a different question; but I had the
right to expect--I and Anna Vassilyevna had the right to expect that
you would at least hold sacred the principles of morality which we
have--_que nous avons inculques_, which we have instilled into you, our
only daughter. We had the right to expect that no new "ideas" could
touch that, so to speak, holy shrine. And what do we find? I am not
now speaking of frivolities characteristic of your sex, and age, but
who could have anticipated that you could so far forget yourself----'

'Papa,' said Elena, 'I know what you are going to say------'