“Katya, it’s not good for you to stand,” her husband said to her, putting a chair for her and looking significantly at her.

“Oh, and there’s no time either,” added Sergey Ivanovitch, seeing the children running out.

At the head of them all Tanya galloped sideways, in her tightly-drawn stockings, and waving a basket and Sergey Ivanovitch’s hat, she ran straight up to him.

Boldly running up to Sergey Ivanovitch with shining eyes, so like her father’s fine eyes, she handed him his hat and made as though she would put it on for him, softening her freedom by a shy and friendly smile.

“Varenka’s waiting,” she said, carefully putting his hat on, seeing from Sergey Ivanovitch’s smile that she might do so.

Varenka was standing at the door, dressed in a yellow print gown, with a white kerchief on her head.