s were visible here and there. Lavretzky uttered a bitter
laugh, and bade the messenger say that it was all very good. Three days
later, he had quitted Paris: but he went, not to Russia, but to Italy. He
himself did not know why he had chosen Italy, in particular; in reality, it
made no difference to him whither he went,--provided it were not home. He
sent instructions to his peasant-steward in regard to his wife's pension,
ordered him, at the same time, to take all matters pertaining to the estate
instantly out of the hands of General Korobyn, without awaiting the
surrender of the accounts, and to make arrangements for the departure of
His Excellency from Lavriki; he formed a vivid picture to himself, of the
consternation, the fruitless haughtiness of the ejected General, and, with
all his grief, he felt a certain malicious satisfaction. Then he invited
Glafira Petrovna, in a letter also, to return to Lavriki, and sent her a
power of attorney. Glafira Petrovna did not return to Lavriki, and
herself published in the newspapers that she had destroyed the power of
attorney, which was quite superfluous. Hiding himself in a small Italian
town, it was a long time still before Lavretzky could force himself not to
watch his wife. He learned from the newspapers, that she had quitted Paris,
as it was supposed, for Baden-Baden: her name soon made its appearance in
an article written by that same M'sieu Jules. In this article, a sort of
friendly condolence pierced through the customary playfulness; Feodor
Ivanitch's soul was in a very ugly state when he read that article. Later
on, he learned that a daughter had been born to him; at the end of a couple
of months, he was informed by his peasant-steward, that Varvara Pavlovna
had demanded the first third of her allowance. Then more and more evil
reports began to arrive; at last, a tragicomic tale made the
rounds--creating a sensation--of the newspapers, wherein his wife played an
unenviable part. All was at an end: Varvara Pavlovna had become "a
celebrity."

Lavretzky ceased to follow her career; but he was not able speedily to
conquer himself. At times, he was seized with such a longing for his
wife, that it seemed to him, he would give everything--he would even, if
necessary ... forgive her--if only he might again hear her caressing
voice, again feel her hand in his hand. But time went on, and not in
vain. He was not born to be a martyr; his healthy nature asserted its
rights. Much