“Well, my dear fellow, you are the sort of guest one need not exert oneself to entertain,” said old Zachlebnikoff at last, rising and making for his private study, where he had business of importance awaiting his attention; “and I was led to believe that you were the most morose of hypochondriacs. Dear me! what mistakes one does make about other people, to be sure!” There was a grand piano in the room, and Velchaninoff suddenly turned to Nadia and remarked: “You sing, don’t you?” “Who told you I did?” said Nadia curtly. “Pavel Pavlovitch.” “It isn’t true; I only sing for a joke—I have no voice.” “Oh, but I have no voice either, and yet I sing!” “Well, you sing to us first, and then I’ll sing,” said Nadia, with sparkling eyes; “not now though—after dinner. I hate music,” she added, “I’m so sick of the piano. We have singing and strumming going on all day here;—and Katie is the only one of us all worth hearing!” Velchaninoff immediately attacked Katie, and besieged her with petitions to play. This attention from him to her eldest daughter so pleased mamma that she flushed up with satisfaction. Katie went to the piano, blushing like a school-girl, and evidently much ashamed of herself for blushing; she played some little piece of Haydn’s correctly enough but without much expression. When she had finished Velchaninoff praised the music warmly—Haydn’s music generally, and this little piece in particular. He looked at Katie too, with admiration, and his expression seemed to say. “By Jove, you’re a fine girl!” So eloquent was his look that everyone in the room was able to read it, and especially Katie herself. “What a pretty garden you have!” said Velchaninoff after a short pause, looking through the glass doors of the balcony. “Let’s all go out; may we?” “Oh, yes! do let’s go out!” cried several voices together. He seemed to have hit upon the very thing most desired by all. So they all adjourned into the garden, and walked about there until dinner-time; and Velchaninoff had the opportunity of making closer acquaintance with some of the girls of the establishment. Two or three young fellows “dropped in” from the neighbouring houses—a student, a school-boy, and another young fellow of about twenty in a pair of huge spectacles. Each of these young fellows immediately attached himself to the particular young lady of his choice. The young man in spectacles no sooner arrived than he went aside with Nadia and Maria Nikitishna, and entered into an animated whispering conversation with them, with much frowning and impatience of manner. This gentleman seemed to consider it his mission to treat Pavel Pavlovitch with the most ineffable contempt. Some of the girls proposed a game. One of them suggested “Proverbs,” but it was voted dull; another suggested acting, but the objection was made that they never knew how to finish off.