"A young man?"—said Varvára Pávlovna.—"Who is he? Some poor fellow?"
"Good gracious,—he's our chief cavalier, and not among us only—et à Pétersbourg. A Junior Gentleman of the Bedchamber, received in the best society. You certainly must have heard of him,—Pánshin, Vladímir Nikoláitch. He is here on a government commission ... a future Minister, upon my word!"
"And an artist?"
"An artist in soul, and such a charming fellow. You shall see him. He has been at my house very frequently of late; I have invited him for this evening; I hope that he will come,"—added Márya Dmítrievna, with a gentle sigh and a sidelong bitter smile.
Liza understood the significance of that smile; but she cared nothing for it.
"And is he young?"—repeated Varvára Pávlovna, 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 Gedeónovsky.
Varvára Pávlovna suddenly began to play a noisy Strauss waltz, which started with such a mighty and rapid trill as made even Gedeónovsky 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 Márya Dmítrievna.
"What soul!"—she said, in a low tone, to Gedeónovsky.