mlessly around the outskirts
of O----. Rambling over the dewy grass he came across a narrow path
leading to a little gate which he found open. Wandering in, he found, to
his amazement, that he was in the Kalitins' garden. In Lisa's room a
candle shone behind the white curtains; all else was dark. The light
vanished as he looked.

"Sleep well, my sweet girl," he whispered, sitting motionless, his eyes
fixed on the darkened window. Suddenly a light appeared in one of the
windows of the ground floor, then another. Who could it be? Lavretsky
rose... he caught a glimpse of a well-known face. Lisa entered the
drawing-room--she drew near the open door, and stood on the threshold, a
light, slender figure, all in white.

"Lisa!" broke hardly audibly from his lips. She started, and began to
gaze into the darkness. "Lisa!" he repeated louder, and came out of the
shadow.

She raised her head in alarm, and shrank back. "Is it you?" she said.
"You here?"

"I--I--listen to me," whispered Lavretsky, and seizing her hand he led
her to a seat. She followed him unresisting. Her pale face, her fixed
eyes, and all her gestures expressed an unutterable bewilderment.
Lavretsky stood before her. "I did not mean to come here," he began;
"something brought me. I--I love you," he uttered, in involuntary
terror. She tried to get up--she could not; she covered her face with
her hands.

"Lisa!" murmured Lavretsky. "Lisa," he repeated, and fell at her feet.
Her shoulders began to heave slightly.

"What is it?" he urged, and he heard a subdued sob. His heart stood
still... he knew the meaning of those tears. "Can it be that you love
me?" he whispered, and caressed her knees.

"Get up!" he heard her voice. "Get up, Fedor Ivanitch. What are we
doing?"

He got up and sat beside her on the seat.

"It frightens me; what we are doing?" she repeated.

"I love you," he said again. "I am ready to devote my whole life to
you."

She shuddered again as though something had stung her, and lifted her
eyes towards heaven.

"All that is in God's hands," she said.

"But you love me, Lisa? We shall be happy."

She dropped her eyes. He softly drew her to him, and her head sank on to
his shoulder--he bent his head a little and touched her pale lips....

On the following day Lavretsky drove over to Vassilyevskoe. The first
thing that struck him on entering was the scent of patchouli, always
distasteful to him. There were some travelling trunks in the