“M. Panshine can come with us, I suppose?”
asked Maria Dmitrievna.
“Of course,” replied Lavretsky. “But
would it not be better for us to keep to our family
circle?”
“But I think—” began Maria
Dmitrievna, adding, however, “Well, just as
you like.”
It was settled that Lenochka and Shurochka should
go. Marfa Timofeevna refused to take part in
the excursion.
“It’s a bore to me, my dear,” she
said, “to move my old bones; and there’s
nowhere, I suppose, in your house where I could pass
the night; besides, I never can sleep in a strange
bed. Let these young folks caper as they please.”
Lavretsky had no other opportunity of speaking with
Liza alone, but he kept looking at her in a manner
that pleased her, and at the same time confused her
a little. She felt very sorry for him. When
he went away, he took leave of her with a warm pressure
of the hand. She fell into a reverie as soon
as she found herself alone.
[Footnote A: Omitted in the French translation.]
On entering the drawing-room, after his return home,
Lavretsky met a tall, thin man, with a wrinkled but
animated face, untidy grey whiskers, a long, straight
nose, and small, inflamed eyes. This individual,
who was dressed in a shabby blue surtout, was Mikhalevich,
his former comrade at the University. At first
Lavretsky did not recognize him, but he warmly embraced
him as soon as he had made himself known. The
two friends had not seen each other since the old
Moscow days. Then followed exclamations and questions.
Memories long lost to sight came out again into the
light of day. Smoking pipe after pipe in a hurried
manner, gulping down his tea, and waving his long
hands in the air, Mikhalevich related his adventures.
There was nothing very brilliant about them, and he
could boast of but little success in his various enterprises;
but he kept incessantly laughing a hoarse, nervous
laugh. It seemed that about a month previously
he had obtained a post in the private counting-house
of a rich brandy-farmer,[A] at about three hundred
versts from O., and having heard of Lavretsky’s
return from abroad, he had turned out of his road
for the purpose of seeing his old friend again.
He spoke just as jerkingly as he used to do in the
days of youth, and he became as noisy and as warm
as he was in the habit of growing then. Lavretsky
began to speak about his own affairs, but Mikhalevich
stopped him, hastily stammering out, “I have
heard about it, brother; I have heard about it.
Who could have expected it?” and then immediately
turned the conversation on topics of general interest.
[Footnote A: One of the contractors who used
to purchase the right of supplying the people with
brandy.]
