He found them all at home, but he did not immediately announce to them
his intention: he wished, first, to have a talk alone with Liza. Chance
aided him: they were left alone together in the drawing-room. They fell
into conversation: she had succeeded in getting used to him,--and, in
general, she was not shy of any one. He listened to her, looked her
straight in the face, and mentally repeated Lemm's words, and agreed with
him. It sometimes happens, that two persons who are already acquainted,
but not intimate, suddenly and swiftly draw near to each other in the
course of a few minutes,--and the consciousness of this approach is
immediately reflected in their glances, in their friendly, quiet smiles,
in their very movements. Precisely this is what took place with
Lavretzky and Liza. "So that's what he is like," she thought, gazing
caressingly at him; "so that's what thou art like," he said to himself
also. And therefore, he was not greatly surprised when she, not without a
slight hesitation, however, announced to him, that she had long had it in
her heart to say something to him, but had been afraid of annoying him.
"Have no fear; speak out,"--he said, and halted in front of her.
Liza raised her clear eyes to his.
"You are so kind,"--she began, and, at the same time, she said to
herself:--"'yes, he really is kind' ... you will pardon me, but I ought
not to speak of this to you ... but how could you ... why did you
separate from your wife?"
Lavretzky shuddered, glanced at Liza, and seated himself beside her.
"My child," he began,--"please do not touch that wound; your hands are
tender, but nevertheless I shall suffer pain."
"I know,"--went on Liza, as though she had not heard him:--"she is
culpable toward you, I do not wish to defend her; but how is it possible
to put asunder that which God has joined together?"
"Our convictions on that point are too dissimilar, Lizaveta
Mikhailovna,"--said Lavretzky, rather sharply;--"we shall not
understand each other."
Liza turned pale; her whole body quivered slightly; but she did not hold
her peace.
"You ought to forgive,"--she said softly:--"if you wish to be forgiven."
"Forgive!"--Lavretzky caught her up:--"Ought not you first to know for
whom you are pleading? Forgive that woman, take her back into my
house,--her,--that empty, heartless creature! And who has told you, that
she wishes to return to me? Good heavens, she is entirely satisfied with
her position.... But what is the use of talking about it! Her name ought
not to be uttered by you. You are too pure, you are not even in a
position to understand what sort of a being she is."
"Why vilify her?"--said Liza, with an effort. The trembling of her hands
became visible. "It was you yourself who abandoned her, Feodor
Ivanitch."
"But I tell you,"--retorted Lavretzky, with an involuntary outburst of
impatience:--"that you do not know what sort of a creature she is!"
"Then why did you marry her?"--whispered Liza, and dropped her eyes.
Lavretzky sprang up hastily from his seat.
"Why did I marry? I was young and inexperienced then; I was deceived, I
was carried away by a beautiful exterior. I did not know women, I did not
know anything. God grant that you may make a happier marriage! But,
believe me, it is impossible to vouch for anything."
"And I may be just as unhappy,"--said Liza (her voice began to break):
"but, in that case, I must submit; I do not know how to talk, but if we
do not submit...."
Lavretzky clenched his fists and stamped his foot.
"Be not angry; forgive me!"--ejaculated Liza, hastily.
At that moment, Marya Dmitrievna entered. Liza rose, and started to
leave the room.
"Stop!"--Lavretzky unexpectedly called after her. "I have a great favour
to ask of your mother and of you: make me a visit to celebrate my new
home. You know, I have set up a piano; Lemm is staying with me; the
lilacs are now in bloom; you will get a breath of the country air, and
can return the same day,--do you accept?"
Liza glanced at her mother, and Marya Dmitrievna assumed an air of
suffering, but Lavretzky, without giving her a chance to open her mouth,
instantly kissed both her hands. Marya Dmitrievna, who was always
susceptible to endearments, and had not expected such amiability from
"the dolt," was touched to the soul, and consented. While she was
considering what day to appoint, Lavretzky approached Liza, and, still
greatly agitated, furtively whispered to her: "Thank you, you are a good
girl, I am to blame."... And her pale face flushed crimson with a
cheerful--bashful smile; her eyes also smiled,--up to that moment, she
had been afraid that she had offended him.
"May Vladimir Nikolaitch go with us?"--asked Marya Dmitrievna.
"Certainly,"--responded Lavretzky:--"but would it not be better if we
confined ourselves to our own family circle?"
"Yes, certainly, but you see...." Marya Dmitrievna began. "However, as
you like," she added.
It was decided to take Lyenotchka and Schurotchka. Marfa Timofeevna
declined to make the journey.
"It is too hard for me, my dear,"--she said,--"my old bones ache: and I
am sure there is no place at your house where I can spend the night; and
I cannot sleep in a strange bed. Let these young people do the
gallivanting."
Lavretzky did not succeed in being alone again with Liza; but he looked
at her in such a way, that she felt at ease, and rather ashamed, and
sorry for him. On taking leave of her, he pressed her hand warmly; when
she was left alone, she fell into thought.