"Is it true that you refuse me, Véra Pavlovna?"
"I leave it to you, could I do otherwise than refuse you?"
"Véra Pavlovna, I have outraged you in a cowardly manner; I am guilty; but your refusal kills me." And again he began his supplications.
Vérotchka listened for some minutes; then, to end the painful interview, she said:
"Mikhaïl Ivanytch, your entreaties are useless. You will never get my consent."
"At least grant me one favor. You still feel very keenly how deeply I outraged you. Do not give me a reply to-day; let me have time to become worthy of your pardon! I seem to you despicable, but wait a little: I wish to become better and more worthy; aid me, do not repel me, grant me time. I will obey you in all things! Perhaps at last you will find me worthy of pardon."
"I pity you; I see the sincerity of your love [it is not love, Vérotchka; it is a mixture of something low with something painful; one may be very unhappy and deeply mortified by a woman's refusal without really loving her; love is quite another thing,—but Vérotchka is still ignorant regarding these things, and she is moved],—you wish me to postpone my answer; so be it, then! But I warn you that the postponement will end in nothing; I shall never give you any other reply than that which I have given you to-day."
"I will become worthy of another answer; you save me!"
He seized her hand and kissed it rapturously.
Maria Alexevna entered the room, and in her enthusiasm blessed her dear children without the traditional formalities,—that is, without Pavel Konstantinytch; then she called her husband to bless them once more with proper solemnity. But Storechnikoff dampened her enthusiasm by explaining to her that Véra Pavlovna, though she had not consented, at least had not definitely refused, and that she had postponed her answer.
This was not altogether glorious, but after all, compared with the situation of a moment before, it was a step taken.
Consequently Storechnikoff went back to his house with an air of triumph, and Anna Petrovna had no resource left but fainting.
Maria Alexevna did not know exactly what to think of Vérotchka, who talked and seemed to act exactly against her mother's intentions, and who, after all, surmounted difficulties before which Maria Alexevna herself was powerless. Judging from the progress of affairs, it was clear that Vérotchka's wishes were the same as her mother's; only her plan of action was better laid and, above all, more effective. Yet, if this were the case, why did she not say to her mother: "Mamma, we have the same end in view; be tranquil." Was she so out of sorts with her mother that she wished to have nothing to do with her? This postponement, it was clear to Maria Alexevna, simply signified that her daughter
