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.

“Yes. You look as though you were afraid that I am such a sinner that I could not receive the communion.”

The girl was apparently offended by her father’s jest at such a solemn moment. She heaved a sigh and, following him, held his hand, which she kissed.

“Who is here?”

“Young Chernýshev. He is in the drawing-room.”

“Is mamma up? How is she?”

“Mamma feels better today. She is sitting downstairs.”