Rameyev noticed that his daughters were tired. A vague alarm stirred
within him. But he quickly extinguished this tiny spark of
displeasure, smiled tenderly at his daughters, and said very quietly,
as if cautiously hinting at something:

"You have walked a little too far, my dears."

There was a short but awkward silence; then, in order to soften the
hidden significance of his words and to ease his daughters'
embarrassment, he added:

"I see you don't ride horseback as much as you used to."

After this he turned to the eldest of the brothers:

"Well, Petya, have you brought any news from town?"

The sisters felt uneasy. They tried to take part in the conversation.

This was in those days when the red demon of murder was prowling in
our native land, and his terrible deeds brought discord and hate into
the bosom of peaceful families. The young people in this house, as
elsewhere, often talked and wrangled about what had happened and what
was yet to be. For all their wrangling, they could not reach any
agreement. Friendship from childhood and good breeding mitigated to
some extent this antagonism of ideas. But more than once their
discussions ended in bitter words.

Piotr, in reply to Rameyev, began to tell about working-men's
disturbances and projected strikes. Irritation was evident in his