d drawing water; a very
timid and peaceable little dog, Roska; an ill-tempered cat, Matross; a
dark-faced, agile little girl nine years old, with big eyes and a sharp
nose, call Shurotchka; and an elderly woman of fifty-five, in a white
cap and a cinnamon-coloured abbreviated jacket, over a dark skirt,
by name, Nastasya Karpovna Ogarkov. Shurotchka was an orphan of the
tradesman class. Marfa Timofyevna had taken her to her heart like Roska,
from compassion; she had found the little dog and the little girl too in
the street; both were thin and hungry, both were being drenched by the
autumn rain; no one came in search of Roska, and Shurotchka was given
up to Marfa Timofyevna with positive eagerness by her uncle, a drunken
shoemaker, who did not get enough to eat himself, and did not feed his
niece, but beat her over the head with his last. With Nastasya Karpovna,
Marfa Timofyevna had made acquaintance on a pilgrimage at a monastery;
she had gone up to her at the church (Marfa Timofyevna took a fancy to
her because in her own words she said her prayers so prettily) and had
addressed her and invited her to a cup of tea. From that day she never
parted from her.

Nastasya Karpovna was a woman of the most cheerful and gentle
disposition, a widow without children, of a poor noble family; she had a
round grey head, soft white hands, a soft face with large mild
features, and a rather absurd turned-up nose; she stood in awe of Marfa
Timofyevna, and the latter was very fond of her, though she laughed at
her susceptibility. She had a soft place in her heart for every young
man, and could not help blushing like a girl at the most innocent joke.
Her whole fortune consisted of only 1200 roubles; she lived at Marfa
Timofyevna's expense, but on an equal footing with her: Marfa Timofyevna
would not have put up with any servility.

"Ah! Fedya," she began, directly she saw him, "last night you did not
see my family, you must admire them, we are all here together for tea;
this is our second, holiday tea. You can make friends with them all;
only Shurotchka won't let you, and the cat will scratch. Are you
starting to-day?"

"Yes." Lavretsky sat down on a low seat, "I have just said good-bye to
Marya Dmitrievna. I saw Lisaveta Mihalovna too."

"Call her Lisa, my dear fellow. Mihalovna indeed to you! But sit still,
or you will break Shurotchka's little chair."

"She has gone to church," continued Lavretsky. "Is she religious?"

"Yes, Fedy