er smoothly combed hair with her tawny hand and
sighed softly. A light, warm shadow trembled on her cheeks, the shadow
of a suppressed smile.

"We are going to print it. Will you help me?"

"Of course."

"I'll set it up quickly. You lie down; you had a hard day; you're
tired. Lie down here on the bed; I'm not going to sleep; and at night
maybe I'll wake you up to help me. When you have lain down, put out
the lamp."

She threw two logs of wood into the stove, straightened herself, and
passed through the narrow door near the stove, firmly closing it after
her. The mother followed her with her eyes, and began to undress
herself, thinking reluctantly of her hostess: "A stern person; and yet
her heart burns. She can't conceal it. Everyone loves. If you don't
love you can't live."

Fatigue dizzied her brain; but her soul was strangely calm, and
everything was illumined from within by a soft, kind light which
quietly and evenly filled her breast. She was already acquainted with
this calm; it had come to her after great agitation. At first it had
slightly disturbed her; but now it only broadened her soul,
strengthening it with a certain powerful but impalpable thought. Before
her all the time appeared and disappeared the faces of her son, Andrey,
Nikolay, Sasha. She took delight in them; they passed by without
arousing thought, and only lightly and sadly touching her heart. Then
she extinguished the lamp, lay down in the cold bed, shriveled up under
the bed coverings, and suddenly sank into a heavy sleep.

CHAPTER XVIII

When she opened her eyes the room was filled by the cold, white glimmer
of a clear wintry day. The hostess, with a book in her hand, lay on
the sofa, and smiling unlike herself looked into her face.

"Oh, father!" the mother exclaimed, for some reason embarrassed. "Just
look! Have I been asleep a long time?"

"Good morning!" answered Liudmila. "It'll soon be ten o'clock. Get up
and we'll have tea."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I wanted to. I walked up to you; but you were so fast asleep and
smiled so in your sleep!"

With a supple, powerful movement of her whole body she rose from the
sofa, walked up to the bed, bent toward the face of the mother, and in
her dull eyes the mother saw something dear, near, and comprehensible.

"I was sorry to disturb you. Maybe you were seeing a happy vision."

"I didn't see anything."

"All the same--but your smile pleased me. I