a, very much so. More than you and I, Fedya."

"Aren't you religious then?" lisped Nastasya Karpovna. "To-day, you have
not been to the early service, but you are going to the late."

"No, not at all; you will go alone; I have grown too lazy, my dear,"
relied Marfa Timofyevna. "Already I am indulging myself with tea." She
addressed Nastasya Karpovna in the singular, though she treated her as
an equal. She was not a Pestov for nothing: three Pestovs had been on
the death-list of Ivan the Terrible, Marfa Timofyevna was well aware of
the fact.

"Tell me please," began Lavretsky again, "Marya Dmitrievna has just been
talking to me about this--what's his name? Panshin. What sort of a man
is he?"

"What a chatterbox she is, Lord save us!" muttered Marfa Timofyevna.
"She told you, I suppose, as a secret that he has turned up as a suitor.
She might have whispered it to her priest's son; no, he's not good
enough for her, it seems. And so far there's nothing to tell, thank God,
but already she's gossiping about it."

"Why thank God?" asked Lavretsky.

"Because I don't like the fine young gentleman; and so what is there to
be glad of in it?"

"You don't like him?"

"No, he can't fascinate every one. He must be satisfied with Nastasya
Karpovna's being in love with him."

The poor widow was utterly dismayed.

"How can you, Marfa Timofyevna? you've no conscience!" she cried, and a
crimson flush instantly overspread her face and neck.

"And he knows, to be sure, the rogue," Marfa Timofyevna interrupted her,
"he knows how to captivate her; he made her a present of a snuff-box.
Fedya, ask her for a pinch of snuff; you will see what a splendid
snuff-box it is; on the lid a hussar on horseback. You'd better not try
to defend yourself, my dear."

Nastasya Karpovna could only fling up her hands.

"Well, but Lisa," inquired Lavretsky, "is she indifferent to him?"

"She seems to like him, but there, God knows! The heart of another, you
know, is a dark forest, and a girl's more than any. Shurotchka's heart,
for instance--I defy you to understand it! What makes her hide herself
and not come out ever since you came in?"

Shurotchka choked with suppressed laughter and skipped out of the room.
Lavretsky rose from his place.

"Yes," he said in an uncertain voice, "there is no deciphering a girl's
heart."

He began to say good-bye.

"Well, shall we see you again soon?" inquired Marfa Timofyevna.

"Very likely, aunt: it's not