of the lilac arbour moved apart, and Pandalevsky
appeared. He looked around warily, shook his head, pursed up his mouth,
and said, significantly, 'So that's how it is. That must be brought to
Darya Mihailovna's knowledge.' And he vanished.

VIII

On his return home, Volintsev was so gloomy and dejected, he gave his
sister such listless answers, and so quickly locked himself up in his
room, that she decided to send a messenger to Lezhnyov. She always had
recourse to him in times of difficulty. Lezhnyov sent her word that he
would come in the next day.

Volintsev was no more cheerful in the morning. After tea he was starting
to superintend the work on the estate, but he stayed at home instead,
lay on the sofa, and took up a book--a thing he did not often do.
Volintsev had no taste for literature, and poetry simply alarmed
him. 'This is as incomprehensible as poetry,' he used to say, and, in
confirmation of his words, he used to quote the following lines from a
Russian poet:--

'And till his gloomy lifetime's close
Nor reason nor experience proud
Will crush nor crumple Destiny's
Ensanguined forget-me-nots.'

Alexandra Pavlovna kept looking uneasily at her brother, but she did not
worry him with questions. A carriage drew up at the steps.

'Ah!' she thought, 'Lezhnyov, thank goodness!'

A servant came in and announced the arrival of Rudin.

Volintsev flung his book on the floor, and raised his head. 'Who has
come?' he asked.

'Rudin, Dmitri Nikolaitch,' repeated the man. Volintsev got up.

'Ask him in,' he said, 'and you, sister,' he added, turning to Alexandra
Pavlovna, 'leave us alone.'

'But why?' she was beginning.

'I have a good reason,' he interrupted, passionately. 'I beg you to
leave us.'

Rudin entered. Volintsev, standing in the middle of the room, received
him with a chilly bow, without offering his hand.

'Confess you did not expect me,' began Rudin, and he laid his hat down
by the window His lips were slightly twitching. He was ill at ease, but
tried to conceal his embarrassment.

'I did not expect you, certainly,' replied Volintsev, 'after yesterday.
I should have more readily expected some one with a special message from
you.'

'I understand what you mean,' said Rudin, taking a seat, 'and am very
grateful for your frankness. It is far better so. I have come myself to
you, as to a man of honour.'

'Cannot we dispense with compliments?' observed Volintsev.

'I want to