illed with
a sort of dusty mist, and the horizon was lilac-grey in colour, though
no clouds were to be seen, A strong wind from the south was raising
volumes of dust from the roads and fields, shaking the poplars and
birch-trees in the garden, and whirling their yellow leaves away. I
myself was sitting at a window and waiting impatiently for these various
preparations to come to an end.

As we sat together by the drawing-room table, to pass the last few
moments en famille, it never occurred to me that a sad moment was
impending. On the contrary, the most trivial thoughts were filling my
brain. Which driver was going to drive the carriage and which the cart?
Which of us would sit with Papa, and which with Karl Ivanitch? Why must
I be kept forever muffled up in a scarf and padded boots?

"Am I so delicate? Am I likely to be frozen?" I thought to myself.
"I wish it would all come to an end, and we could take our seats and
start."

"To whom shall I give the list of the children's linen?" asked Natalia
Savishna of Mamma as she entered the room with a paper in her hand and
her eyes red with weeping.

"Give it to Nicola, and then return to say good-bye to them," replied
Mamma. The old woman seemed about to say something more, but suddenly
stopped short, covered her face with her handkerchief, and left the
room. Something seemed to prick at my heart when I saw that gesture of
hers, but impatience to be off soon drowned all other feeling, and
I continued to listen indifferently to Papa and Mamma as they talked
together. They were discussing subjects which evidently interested
neither of them. What must be bought for the house? What would Princess
Sophia or Madame Julie say? Would the roads be good?--and so forth.

Foka entered, and in the same tone and with the same air as though he
were announcing luncheon said, "The carriages are ready." I saw Mamma
tremble and turn pale at the announcement, just as though it were
something unexpected.

Next, Foka was ordered to shut all the doors of the room. This amused
me highly. As though we needed to be concealed from some one! When
every one else was seated, Foka took the last remaining chair. Scarcely,
however, had he done so when the door creaked and every one looked that
way. Natalia Savishna entered hastily, and, without raising her eyes,
sat own on the same chair as Foka. I can see them before me now-Foka's
bald head and wrinkled, set face, and, beside him, a bent, kind figur