“Ah!”--exclaimed Ipátoff,--“Nadézhda Alexyéevna is coming. What a pleasant surprise!”
“Alone?”--asked Márya Pávlovna, who up to that moment had been standing motionless in the doorway.
“Alone.... Evidently, something has detained Piótr Alexyéevitch.”
Márya Pávlovna darted a sidelong glance from beneath her brows, a flush overspread her face, and she turned away.
In the meantime, the horsewoman had ridden through the wicket-gate into the garden, galloped up to the terrace, and sprang lightly to the ground, without waiting either for her groom or for Ipátoff, who had started to meet her. Briskly gathering up the train of her riding-habit, she ran up the steps, and springing upon the terrace, exclaimed blithely:
“Welcome!”--said Ipátoff.--“How unexpected, how charming this is! Allow me to kiss your hand....”
“Certainly,”--returned the visitor; “only, you must pull off the glove yourself.--I cannot.” And, extending her hand to him, she nodded to Márya Pávlovna.--“Just fancy, Másha, my brother will not be here to-day,”--she said, with a little sigh.
“I see for myself that he is not here,”--replied Márya Pávlovna in an undertone.
“He bade me say to thee that he is busy. Thou must not be angry. Good morning, Egór Kapítonitch; good morning, Iván Ílitch; good morning, children.... Vásya,”--added the guest, turning to her small groom,--“order them to walk Little Beauty up and down well, dost hear? Másha, please give me a pin, to fasten up my train.... Come here, Mikhaíl Nikoláitch.”
“Who is that new person?”--she asked, quite loudly.
“That is a neighbour, Astákhoff, Vladímir Sergyéevitch, you know, the owner of Sásovo. I’ll introduce him if you like, shall I?”
“Very well ... afterward. Akh, what splendid weather!”--she went on.--“Egór Kapítonitch, tell me--can it be possible that Matryóna Márkovna growls even in such weather as this?”
“Matryóna Márkovna never grumbles in any sort of weather, madam; and she is merely strict on the score of manners....”
“And what are the Biriúloff girls doing? They know all about it the next day, don’t they?...” And she burst into a ringing, silvery laugh.
“You are pleased to laugh constantly,”--returned Egór Kapítonitch.--“However, when should a person laugh, if not at your age?”