“Yes, everything second-rate, cheap, scamped work. That pleases, and he pleases, and he is glad it is so--and so much the better. I’m not angry; the cantata and I--we are a pair of old fools; I’m a little ashamed, but it’s no matter.” “Forgive me, Christopher Fedoritch,” Lisa said again. “It’s no matter,” he repeated in Russian, “you’re a good girl... but here is some one coming to see you. Goodbye. You are a very good girl.” And Lemm moved with hastened steps towards the gate, through which had entered some gentleman unknown to him in a grey coat and a wide straw hat. Bowing politely to him (he always saluted all new faces in the town of O-----; from acquaintances he always turned aside in the street--that was the rule he had laid down for himself), Lemm passed by and disappeared behind the fence. The stranger looked after him in amazement, and after gazing attentively at Lisa, went straight up to her. Chapter VII “You don’t recognise me,” he said, taking off his hat, “but I recognise you in spite of its being seven years since I saw you last. You were a child then. I am Lavretsky. Is your mother at home? Can I see her?” “Mamma will be glad to see you,” replied Lisa; “she had heard of your arrival.” “Let me see, I think your name is Elisaveta?” said Lavretsky, as he went up the stairs. “Yes.” “I remember you very well; you had even then a face one doesn’t forget. I used to bring you sweets in those days.” Lisa blushed and thought what a queer man. Lavretsky stopped for an instant in the hall. Lisa went into the drawing-room, where Panshin’s voice and laugh could be heard; he had been communicating some gossip of the town to Marya Dmitrievna, and Gedeonovksy, who by this time had come in from the garden, and he was himself laughing aloud at the story he was telling. At the name of Lavretsky, Marya Dmitrievna was all in a flutter. She turned pale and went up to meet him. “How do you do, how do you do, my dear cousin?” she cried in a plaintive and almost tearful voice, “how glad I am to see you!” “How are you, cousin?” replied Lavretsky, with a friendly pressure of her out-stretched hand; “how has Providence been treating you?” “Sit down, sit down, my dear Fedor Ivanitch. Ah, how glad I am! But let me present my daughter Lisa to you.” “I have already introduced myself to Lisaveta Mihalovna,” interposed Lavretsky. “Monsier Panshin... Sergei Petrovitch Gedeonovsky... Please sit down. When I look at you, I can hardly believe my eyes. How are you?” “As you see, I’m flourishing. And you, too, cousin--no ill-luck to you!--have grown no thinner in eight years.” “To think how long it is since we met!” observed Marya Dmitrievna dreamily. “Where have you come from now? Where did you leave... that is, I meant to say,” she put in hastily, “I meant to say, are you going to be with us for long?” “I have come now from Berlin,” replied Lavretsky, “and to-morrow I shall go into the country--probably for a long time.”