"With my sister. We spent about a week there. On business, you know. However, we saw no one." "H'm.... I think there are very few neighbours there." "Yes, very few. I 'm not fond of neighbours." "Tell me,"--I began;--"I believe you had a catastrophe there that same year. Lukyánitch ...." Madame Shlýkoff's eyes immediately filled with tears. "And did you know him?"--she said with vivacity.--"Such a misfortune! He was a very fine, good old man ... and just fancy, without any cause, you know ...." Madame Shlýkoff's sister approached us. She was, in all probability, beginning to be bored by the learned disquisitions of the geologist about the formation of the banks of the Volga. "Just fancy, Pauline,"--began my companion;--"monsieur knew Lukyánitch." "Really? Poor old man!" "I hunted more than once in the environs of Mikhaílovskoe at that period, when you were there three years ago,"--I remarked. "I?"--returned Pelagéya, in some astonishment. "Well, yes, of course!"--hastily interposed her sister; "is it possible that thou dost not recall it?" And she looked her intently in the eye. "Akh, yes, yes ... that is true!"--replied Pelagéya, suddenly. "Ehe--he!" I thought: "I don't believe you were in Mikhaílovskoe, my dear." "Will not you sing us something, Pelagéya Feódorovna?"--suddenly began a tall young man, with a crest of fair hair and turbidly-sweet little eyes. "Really, I don't know,"--said Miss Badáeff. "And do you sing?"--I exclaimed with vivacity, springing up briskly from my seat. "For heaven's sake .... akh, for heaven's sake, do sing us something." "But what shall I sing to you?" "Don't you know,"--I began, using my utmost endeavours to impart to my face an indifferent and easy expression,--"an Italian song ... it begins this way: _'Passa quei colli'_?" "Yes," replied Pelagéya with perfect innocence. "Do you want me to sing that? Very well." And she seated herself at the piano. I, like Hamlet, riveted my eyes on Madame Shlýkoff. It seemed to me that at the first note she gave a slight start; but she sat quietly to the end. Miss Badáeff sang quite well. The song ended, the customary plaudits resounded. They began to urge her to sing something else; but the two sisters exchanged glances, and a few minutes later they took their departure. As they left the room I overheard the word "_importun_." "I deserved it!" I thought--and did not meet them again.