XII

Lisa blushed, afraid to look at the officers, and casting down her eyes pretended to be busy filling the teapot when they entered the room. Anna Fyódorovna on the contrary jumped up hurriedly, bowed, and not taking her eyes off the Count, began talking to him⁠—now saying how unusually like his father he was, now introducing her daughter to him, now offering him tea, jam, or homemade sweetmeats. No one paid any attention to the Cornet because of his modest appearance, and he was glad of it, for he was, as far as propriety allowed, gazing at Lisa and minutely examining her beauty, which evidently took him by surprise. The uncle, listening to his sister’s conversation with the Count, awaited, with the words ready on his lips, an opportunity to narrate his cavalry reminisces. During tea the Count lit his strong cigar, and Lisa found it difficult to prevent herself from coughing. He was very talkative and amiable, at first slipping his stories into the intervals of Anna Fyódorovna’s ever-flowing speech, but at last engrossing the whole conversation. One thing struck his hearers as strange: in his anecdotes he often used words which, though not considered improper in the society he belonged to, here sounded rather too bold, and somewhat frightened Anna Fyódorovna and made Lisa blush up to the ears; but the Count did not notice it, and remained calmly natural and amiable.