to Petersburg, but Feodor Ivanitch lived in the country all the
time."

"Yes, and mamma has died since, you know."

"And Marfa Timofeevna,"--said Schurotchka.

"And Nastasya Karpovna,"--rejoined Lyenotchka.--"And M'sieu Lemm...."

"What? And is Lemm dead also?"--asked Lavretzky.

"Yes,"--replied young Kalitin:--"he went away from here to Odessa--they
say that some one decoyed him thither; and there he died."

"You do not know--whether he left any music behind him?"

"I don't know,--it is hardly probable."

All fell silent, and exchanged glances. A cloud of sadness had descended
upon all the young faces.

"And Matroska is alive,"--suddenly remarked Lyenotchka.

"And Gedeonovsky is alive,"--added her brother.

At the name of Gedeonovsky a vigorous peal of laughter rang out in
unison.

"Yes, he is alive, and lies just as he always did,"--went on Marya
Dmitrievna's son:--"and just imagine, that naughty child there" (and he
pointed at his wife's sister, the Institute-girl) "put pepper in his
snuff-box yesterday."

"How he did sneeze!" exclaimed Lyenotehka:--and again a peal of
irrepressible laughter rang out.

"We received news of Liza recently,"--said young Kalitin,--and again
everything grew still round about:--"things are well with her,--her
health is now improving somewhat."

"Is she still in the same convent?"--asked Lavretzky, not without an
effort.

"Yes, still in the same place."

"Does she write to you?"

"No, never; the news reaches us through other people."--A sudden,
profound silence ensued. "The angel of silence has flown past," all said
to themselves.

"Would not you like to go into the garden?"--Kalitin turned to
Lavretzky:--"it is very pretty now, although we have rather neglected
it."

Lavretzky went out into the garden, and the first thing that struck his
eyes was the bench on which he had once spent with Liza a few happy
moments, never to be repeated; it had grown black and crooked; but he
recognised it, and his soul was seized by that feeling which has no peer
in sweetness and in sorrow,--the feeling of living grief for vanished
youth, for happiness which it once possessed. In company with the young
people, he strolled through the alleys: the linden-trees had not grown
much older and taller during the last eight years, but their shade had
become more dense; on the other hand, all the shrubs had sprung upward,
the raspberry-bushes had waxed strong, the hazel copse had become
ent