Her features had become still more correct and severe; as of old, they
expressed sincerity of feeling and firmness; but in place of her former
serenity, a sort of secret ache and anxiety could be discerned in them.
Her eyes had grown deeper and darker. She had begun to show a likeness
to her mother....

Sophia Nikolaevna was the first to begin the conversation.

'We are both changed,' she began. 'Where have you been all this time?'

'I've been a rolling stone,' I answered. 'And have you been living in
the country all the while?'

'For the most part I've been in the country. I'm only here now for a
little time.'

'How are your parents?'

'My mother is dead, but my father is still in Petersburg; my brother's
in the service; Varia lives with him.'

'And your husband?'

'My husband,' she said in a rather hurried voice--'he's just now in
South Russia for the horse fairs. He was always very fond of horses,
you know, and he has started stud stables ... and so, on that account
... he's buying horses now.'

At that instant there walked into the room a little girl of eight years
old, with her hair in a pigtail, with a very keen and lively little