CHAPTER IV


The sisters had barely time to change for dinner. They entered the
dining-room somewhat weary and distraught. They were awaited there by
their father Rameyev, the two Matovs--the student Piotr Dmitrievitch
and the schoolboy Misha, sons of Rameyev's lately deceased cousin to
whom Trirodov's estate had previously belonged.

The sisters spoke little at the table, and they said nothing of their
day's adventure. Yet before this they used to be frank and loved to
chat, to tell the things that had happened to them.

Piotr Matov, a tall, spare, pale youth with sparkling eyes, who looked
like a man about to enter a prophetic school, seemed worried and
irritated. His nervousness reflected itself, in embarrassed smiles and
awkward movements, in Misha. The latter was a well-nourished,
rosy-cheeked lad, with a quick, merry eye, but betraying his intense
impressionableness. His smiling mouth trembled slightly around the
corners, apparently without cause.

The old Rameyev, who was more robust than tall, and had the tranquil
manners of a well-trained, well-balanced individual, did not betray
his impatience at his daughters' tardy appearance, but took his place
at the partially extended table, which seemed small in the middle of
the immense dining-room of dark, embellished oak. Miss Harrison,
unembarrassed, began to ladle out the soup; she was a plump, calm,
slightly grey-haired woman, the personification of a successful
household.