"We have been passing the time with a little music," said Panshine. "It is a pity you did not hear Varvara Pavlovna. She sings charmingly, _en artiste consommée_." "Come here, _ma chère_," said Madame Kalitine's voice. With childlike obedience, Varvara immediately went to her, and sat down on a stool at her feet. Maria Dmitrievna had called her away, in order that she might leave her daughter alone with Panshine, if only for a moment. She still hoped in secret that Liza would change her mind. Besides this, an idea had come into her mind, which she wanted by all means to express. "Do you know," she whispered to Varvara Pavlovna, "I want to try and reconcile you and your husband. I cannot promise to succeed, but I will try. He esteems me very much, you know." Varvara slowly looked up at Maria Dmitrievna, and gracefully clasped her hands together. "You would be my saviour, _ma tante_," she said, with a sad voice. "I don't know how to thank you properly for all your kindness; but I am too guilty before Fedor Ivanovich. He cannot forgive me." "But did you actually--in reality--?" began Maria Dmitrievna, with lively curiosity. "Do not ask me," said Varvara, interrupting her, and then looked down. "I was young, light headed--However, I don't wish to make excuses for myself." "Well, in spite of all that, why not make the attempt? Don't give way to despair," replied Maria Dmitrievna, and was going to tap her on the cheek, but looked at her, and was afraid. "She is modest and discreet," she thought, "but, for all that, a _lionne_ still!" "Are you unwell?" asked Panshine, meanwhile. "I am not quite well," replied Liza. "I understand," he said, after rather a long silence, "Yes, I understand." "What do you mean?" "I understand," significantly repeated Panshine, who simply was at a loss for something to say. Liza felt confused, but then she thought, "What does it matter?" Meanwhile Panshine assumed an air of mystery and maintained silence, looking in a different direction with a grave expression on his face.