out giving the page who ran up time to open the door, and hurriedly embracing Kapitolina Markovna, dashed into the house, through the hall, into the dining-room. . . . Before him, all shamefaced, stood Tatyana. She glanced at him with her kind caressing eyes (she was a little thinner, but it suited her), and gave him her hand. But he did not take her hand, he fell on his knees before her. She had not at all expected this and did not know what to say, what to do. . . . The tears started into her eyes. She was frightened, but her whole face beamed with delight. . . . 'Grigory Mihalitch, what is this, Grigory Mihalitch?' she said . . . while he still kissed the hem of her dress . . . and with a thrill of tenderness he recalled that at Baden he had been in the same way on his knees before her. . . . But then—and now!
'Tanya!' he repeated, 'Tanya! you have forgiven me, Tanya!'
'Aunt, aunt, what is this?' cried Tatyana turning to Kapitolina Markovna as she came in.
'Don't hinder him, Tanya,' answered the kind old lady. 'You see the sinner has repented.'
But it is time to make an end; and indeed there is nothing to add; the reader can guess the rest by himself . . . But what of Irina?
She is still as charming, in spite of her
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