t, endless tears. She could only restrain
them by laughing. Whatever attitude she fell into seemed to her the
easiest, most comfortable possible; she felt as if she were being rocked
to sleep. All her movements were slow and soft; what had become of her
awkwardness, her haste? Zoya came in; Elena decided that she had never
seen a more charming little face; Anna Vassilyevna came in; Elena felt a
pang--but with what tenderness she embraced her mother and kissed her on
the forehead near the hair, already slightly grey! Then she went away to
her own room; how everything smiled upon her there! With what a sense
of shamefaced triumph and tranquillity she sat down on her bed--the very
bed on which, only three hours ago, she had spent such bitter moments!
'And yet, even then, I knew he loved me,' she thought, 'even before...
Ah, no! it's a sin. You are my wife,' she whispered, hiding her face in
her hands and falling on her knees.

Towards the evening, she grew more thoughtful. Sadness came upon her at
the thought that she would not soon see Insarov. He could not without
awakening suspicion remain at Bersenyev's, and so this was what he and
Elena had resolved on. Insarov was to return to Moscow and to come over
to visit them twice before the autumn; on her side she promised to write
him letters, and, if it were possible, to arrange a meeting with him
somewhere near Kuntsov. She went down to the drawing-room to tea, and
found there all the household and Shubin, who looked at her sharply
directly she came in; she tried to talk to him in a friendly way as of
old, but she dreaded his penetration, she was afraid of herself. She
felt sure that there was good reason for his having left her alone
for more than a fortnight. Soon Bersenyev arrived, and gave Insarov's
respects to Anna Vassilyevna with an apology for having gone back to
Moscow without calling to take leave of her. Insarov's name was for the
first time during the day pronounced before Elena. She felt that she
reddened; she realised at the same time that she ought to express regret
at the sudden departure of such a pleasant acquaintance; but she could
not force herself to hypocrisy, and continued to sit without stirring
or speaking, while Anna Vassilyevna sighed and lamented. Elena tried to
keep near Bersenyev; she was not afraid of him, though he even knew
part of her secret; she was safe under his wing from Shubin, who still
persisted in staring at her--not mockingly but at