There was something disagreeable about the whole conversation. She put the
cover on the jar from which she had been taking the mushrooms, and was just
turning from the window, when the cornet came toward her, and she felt a
curiosity to know what kind of a man he was.
"What a lovely night!" said he.
"They can only talk about the weather," thought Liza.
"What a wonderful view!" continued the cornet, "only I should think it
would be tiresome," he added through a strange propensity, peculiar to him,
of saying things sure to offend the people who pleased him very much.
"Why should you think so? Always the same cooking and always the same dress
might become tiresome; but a lovely garden can never be tiresome when you
enjoy walking, and especially when there's a moon rising higher and higher.
From my uncle's room you can see the whole pond. I shall see it from there
to-night."
"And you haven't any nightingales at all, have you?" asked the count,
greatly put out, because Polózof had come and prevented him from learning
the exact conditions of the rendezvous.
"Oh, yes, we always have them; last year the hunters caught one; and last
week there was one that sang beautifully, but the district inspector[86]
came along with his bells, and scared him away.... Three years ago my uncle
and I used to sit out in the covered alley, and listen to one for two hours
at a time."
[Footnote 86: _stanovói._]
"What is this chatterbox telling you about?" inquired the old uncle,
joining the trio. "Aren't you ready for something to eat?"
At supper, the count by his reiterated praise of the viands, and his
appetite, succeeded somewhat in pacifying Anna Fedorovna's unhappy state of
mind. Afterwards the officers made their adieux, and went to their room.
The count shook hands with the old cavalier, and, to Anna Fedorovna's
surprise, with her, without offering to kiss her hand; and he also squeezed
Liza's hand, at the same time looking straight into her eyes, and craftily
smiling his pleasing smile. This glance again somewhat disconcerted the
maiden. "He is very handsome," she said to herself, "only he is quite too
conceited."