"And is he young?"--repeated Varvara Pavlovna, lightly modulating from one key to another. "He is eight and twenty--and of the most happy personal appearance. _Un jeune homme accompli_, upon my word." "A model young man, one may say,"--remarked Gedeonovsky. Varvara Pavlovna suddenly began to play a noisy Strauss waltz, which started with such a mighty and rapid trill as made even Gedeonovsky start; in the very middle of the waltz, she abruptly changed into a mournful motif, and wound up with the aria from "Lucia": "Fra poco."... She had reflected that merry music was not compatible with her situation. The aria from "Lucia," with emphasis on the sentimental notes, greatly affected Marya Dmitrievna. "What soul!"--she said, in a low tone, to Gedeonovsky. "A sylph!"--repeated Gedeonovsky, and rolled his eyes heavenward. Dinner-time arrived. Marfa Timofeevna came down-stairs when the soup was already standing on the table. She treated Varvara Pavlovna very coolly, replying with half-words to her amiabilities, and not looking at her. Varvara Pavlovna herself speedily comprehended that she could do nothing with the old woman, and ceased to address her; on the other hand, Marya Dmitrievna became more affectionate than ever with her guest: her aunt's discourtesy enraged her. However, Varvara Pavlovna was not the only person at whom Marfa Timofeevna refused to look: she never cast a glance at Liza, either, although her eyes fairly flashed. She sat like a stone image, all sallow, pale, with tightly compressed lips--and ate nothing. Liza seemed to be composed; and, as a matter of fact, all had become more tranquil in her soul; a strange insensibility, the insensibility of the man condemned to death, had come upon her. At dinner Varvara Pavlovna talked little: she seemed to have become timid once more, and spread over her face an expression of modest melancholy. Gedeonovsky alone enlivened the conversation with his tales, although he kept casting cowardly glances at Marfa Timofeevna, and a cough and tickling in the throat seized upon him every time that he undertook to lie in her presence,--but she did not hinder him, she did not interrupt him. After dinner it appeared that Varvara Pavlovna was extremely fond of preference; this pleased Marya Dmitrievna to such a degree, that she even became greatly affected, and thought to herself:--"But what a fool Feodor Ivanitch must be: he was not able to appreciate such a woman!" She sat down to play cards with her and Gedeonovsky, while Marfa Timofeevna led Liza off to her own rooms up-stairs, saying that she looked ill, that her head must be aching.