ailway carriage.

"Grigory Mihalovitch... Grigory..." he heard a supplicating whisper
behind him.

He started to see Irina standing on the platform, her eyes crying to him
to come back--to come back.... He jumped into the carriage, and turning
round, he motioned her to a place beside him. She understood him. There
was still time. One step, one movement, and two lives made one for ever
would have been hurried away into the uncertain distance.... While she
wavered, a loud whistle sounded, and the train moved off.

_IV.--Love's Reward_

A year had passed--a year spent by Litvinov on his father's estate, a
year of hard work, a year of devoting the knowledge he had acquired
abroad to the betterment of the property. Another year, and his toil
began to show its fruit. A third year was beginning. An uncle, who
happened to be a cousin of Kapitolina Markovna, and had been recently
staying with her, paid them a visit. He brought Litvinov a great deal of
news about Tatyana. The next day, after his departure, Litvinov sent her
a letter, the first since their separation.

He begged for permission to renew her acquaintance, at least by
correspondence, and also desired to learn whether he must forever give
up all idea of some day seeing her. Not without emotion he awaited the
answer... the answer came at last. Tatyana responded cordially to his
overture. "If you are disposed to pay us a visit," she finished up, "we
hope you will come; you know the saying, 'even the sick are easier
together than apart.'"

With a new lightness of heart, Litvinov set off on his journey. The
horses would not go quick enough for him. At last the house was in
view... and on the steps Kapitolina Markovna was standing, and, beside
herself with joy, was clapping her hands, crying, "I heard him! I knew
him first! It's he! it's he! I knew him."

Litvinov dashed into the house... before him, all shamefaced, stood
Tatyana. She glanced at him with kind, caressing eyes and gave him her
hand. But he did not take her hand. He fell on his knees before her,
kissing the hem of her dress. The tears started into her eyes. She was
frightened, but her whole face beamed with delight.

"Tatyana," Litvinov cried, "Tatyana, you have forgiven me? Tatyana!"

"Aunt, aunt, what is this?" cried Tatyana, turning to Kapitolina
Markovna as she came in.

"Don't hinder him, Tatyana," answered the kind old lady; "you see the
sinner has repented."

* * *