she was sitting, and she drummed an exercise with her thin fingers.

'How much do you get for a lesson?'

'Sometimes a ruble, sometimes fifty kopeks, or sometimes thirty. They
are all so kind to me.'

'And do your pupils get on well?' asked Kasatsky with a slight smile.

Praskovya Mikhaylovna did not at first believe that he was asking
seriously, and looked inquiringly into his eyes.

'Some of them do. One of them is a splendid girl--the butcher's
daughter--such a good kind girl! If I were a clever woman I ought, of
course, with the connexions Papa had, to be able to get an appointment
for my son-in-law. But as it is I have not been able to do anything, and
have brought them all to this--as you see.'

'Yes, yes,' said Kasatsky, lowering his head. 'And how is it,
Pashenka--do you take part in Church life?'

'Oh, don't speak of it. I am so bad that way, and have neglected it so!
I keep the fasts with the children and sometimes go to church, and then
again sometimes I don't go for months. I only send the children.'

'But why don't you go yourself?'

'To tell the truth' (she blushed) 'I am ashamed, for my daughter's
sake and the children's, to go there in tattered clothes, and I haven't
anything else. Besides, I am just lazy.'