in him now.

"I think you can. She is at home, up-stairs," replied Marya Dmitrievna;
"inquire for her."

Lavretsky went up-stairs. He found Marfa Timofyevna also at cards; she
was playing old maid with Nastasya Karpovna. Roska barked at him; but
both the old ladies welcomed him cordially. Marfa Timofyevna especially
seemed in excellent spirits.

"Ah! Fedya!" she began, "pray sit down, my dear. We are just finishing
our game. Would you like some preserve? Shurotchka, bring him a pot of
strawberry. You don't want any? Well, sit there; only you mustn't smoke;
I can't bear your tobacco, and it makes Matross sneeze."

Lavretsky made haste to assure her that he had not the least desire to
smoke.

"Have you been down-stairs?" the old lady continued. "Whom did you see
there? Is Panshin still on view? Did you see Lisa? No? She was meaning
to come up here. And here she is: speak of angels--"

Lisa came into the room, and she flushed when she saw Lavretsky.

"I came in for a minute, Marfa Timofyevna," she was beginning.

"Why for a minute?" interposed the old lady. "Why are you always in
such a hurry, you young people? You see I have a visitor; talk to him a
little, and entertain him."

Lisa sat down on the edge of a chair; she raised her eyes to
Lavretsky--and felt that it was impossible not to let him know how her
interview with Panshin had ended. But how was she to do it? She felt
both awkward and ashamed. She had not long known him, this man who
rarely went to church, and took his wife's death so calmly--and here was
she, confiding al her secrets to him.... It was true he took an interest
in her; she herself trusted him and felt drawn to him; but all the same,
she was ashamed, as though a stranger had been into her pure, maiden
bower.

Marfa Timofyevna came to her assistance.

"Well, if you won't entertain him," said Marfa Timofyevna, "who will,
poor fellow? I am too old for him, he is too clever for me, and for
Nastasya Karpovna he's too old, it's only the quite young men she will
look at."

"How can I entertain Fedor Ivanitch?" said Lisa. "If he likes, had I not
better play him something on the piano?" she added irresolutely.

"Capital; you're my clever girl," rejoined Marfa Timofyevna. "Step
down-stairs, my dears; when you have finished, come back: I have been
made old maid, I don't like it, I want to have my revenge."

Lisa got up. Lavretsky went after her. As she went down the staircase,
Lisa stopped.