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Sonia looked surprised at the sudden brightness of his face. He

looked at her for some moments in silence. The whole history of

the dead father floated before his memory in those moments....

*****

"Heavens, Dounia," Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, as soon as they

were in the street, "I really feel relieved myself at coming

away--more at ease. How little did I think yesterday in the train

that I could ever be glad of that."

"I tell you again, mother, he is still very ill. Don't you see

it? Perhaps worrying about us upset him. We must be patient, and

much, much can be forgiven."

"Well, you were not very patient!" Pulcheria Alexandrovna caught

her up, hotly and jealously. "Do you know, Dounia, I was looking

at you two. You are the very portrait of him, and not so much in

face as in soul. You are both melancholy, both morose and

hot-tempered, both haughty and both generous.... Surely he can't

be an egoist, Dounia. Eh? When I think of what is in store for us

this evening, my heart sinks!"