Though he strained his vision, he could not see them.
"There they are. There is the forest, and there is the cloud, so be pleased to look between the two."
Iván Petróvich could not see anything.
"It is time for them. Why, it is less than a week to Annunciation."
"That's so."
"Well, go on!"
Near a puddle, Míshka jumped down from the footboard and tested the road, again climbed up, and the carriage safely drove on the pond dam in the garden, ascended the avenue, drove past the cellar and the laundry, from which water was falling, and nimbly rolled up and stopped at the porch. The Chernýshev calash had just left the yard. From the house at once ran the servants: gloomy old Danílych with the side whiskers, Nikoláy, Míshka's brother, and the boy Pavlúshka; and after them came a girl with large black eyes and red arms, which were bared above the elbow, and with just such a bared neck.
"Márya Ivánovna, Márya Ivánovna! Where are you going? Your mother will be worried. You will have time," was heard the voice of fat Katerína behind her.
But the girl paid no attention to her; just as her father had expected her to do, she took hold of his arm and looked at him with a strange glance.
"Well, papa, have you been to communion?" she asked, as though in dread.