Marfa Timofeevna departed, but Liza sat down in the corner and began to cry. She felt bitter in soul; she had not deserved such humiliation. Her love had not announced its presence by cheerfulness; this was the second time she had wept since the night before. That new, unexpected feeling had barely come to life in her heart when she had had to pay so heavily for it, when strange hands had roughly touched her private secret! She felt ashamed, and pained, and bitter: but there was neither doubt nor terror in her,--and Lavretzky became all the dearer to her. She had hesitated as long as she did not understand herself; but after that meeting--she could hesitate no longer; she knew that she loved,--and had fallen in love honourably, not jestingly, she had become strongly attached, for her whole life; she felt that force could not break that bond. XXXIX Marya Dmitrievna was greatly perturbed when the arrival of Varvara Pavlovna was announced to her; she did not even know whether to receive her; she was afraid of offending Feodor Ivanitch. At last, curiosity carried the day. "What of it?"--she said to herself,--"why, she is a relative also,"--and seating herself in her arm-chair, she said to the lackey: "Ask her in!" Several minutes elapsed; the door opened, Varvara Pavlovna approached Marya Dmitrievna swiftly, with barely audible footsteps, and, without giving her a chance to rise from her chair, almost went down on her knees before her. "Thank you, aunty,"--she began in a touched and gentle voice, in Russian: "thank you! I had not hoped for such condescension on your part; you are as kind as an angel." As she uttered these words, Varvara Pavlovna unexpectedly took possession of one of Marya Dmitrievna's hands, and pressing it lightly in her pale-lilac gloves, obsequiously raised it to her full, rosy lips. Marya Dmitrievna completely lost her head, on beholding such a beautiful, charmingly-dressed woman, almost on her knees at her feet; she did not know what to do: she did not wish to withdraw her hand, she wished to give her a seat, and to say something amiable to her; she ended by rising, and kissing Varvara Pavlovna on her smooth, fragrant brow. Varvara Pavlovna was perfectly dumfounded by this kiss. "Good morning,--_bon jour_,"--said Marya Dmitrievna:--"of course, I had no idea, ... however, of course, I am delighted to see you. You understand, my dear,--it is not for me to sit in judgment between wife and husband." "My husband is wholly in the right,"--Varvara Pavlovna interrupted her:--"I alone am to blame." "That is a very praiseworthy sentiment,"--returned Marya Dmitrievna:--"very. Have you been here long? Have you seen him? But sit down, pray." "I arrived yesterday,"--replied Varvara Pavlovna, meekly seating herself on a chair; "I have seen Feodor Ivanitch, I have talked with him." "Ah! Well, and how does he take it?"