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Updated: May 6, 2025
Borisoff inviting him to dine with her a few days hence. About her company she said nothing, and Piers went, uncertain whether it was a dinner tete-a-tete or with other guests. When he entered the room, the first face he beheld was Irene's. It was a very small party, and the hostess wore her gayest countenance.
Anna Iurievna knew that her husband despised her stepmother; that he detested her as the cause of all the grief which they had had to endure through her, and most of all, on account of the injustice she was guilty of toward her brother, the general's son. For six years Borisoff had lived with young Peter Nazimoff, as his tutor and teacher, and loved him sincerely.
She felt the need of protecting herself against thoughts which had never until now given her a moment's uneasiness. Happily she was going to lunch with her friend Mrs. Borisoff, anything but a sentimental person. She began to discern a possibility of taking Helen Borisoff into her confidence.
You are the first respectable acquaintance I have made since my marriage." In the lovely old garden, in the still meadows, and on the sheep-cropped hillsides, they had many a long talk. Now that Irene was as good as married, Mrs. Borisoff used less reserve in speaking of her private circumstances; she explained the terms on which she stood with her husband.
"Finished?" she asked, moving nervously in her chair. When the letter was written, Mrs. Borisoff resumed talk in the same tone as before. "You have heard of Dr. Derwent's discoveries about diphtheria? That's the kind of thing one envies, don't you think? After all, what can we poor creatures do in this world, but try to ease each other's pain? The man who succeeds in that is the man I honour."
Nowadays they even relate such stories in the newspapers, and my father is so well known, so noteworthy!" "That is just why they don't write about him!" answered Borisoff, her husband, smiling. He himself flatly refused to go to St. Petersburg.
I can hardly consider myself one of her friends at least, I shouldn't have ventured to do so until this morning, when I was surprised and delighted to have a letter from her about that Nineteenth Century article, sent through the publishers. She spoke of you, and asked me to call saying she had written an introduction of me by the same post." Mrs. Borisoff smiled oddly. "Oh yes; it came.
In Helen Borisoff she knew for the first time a woman who cared supremely for music, poetry, pictures, and who combined with this a vigorous practical intelligence. Helen could burn with enthusiasm, yet never exposed herself to suspicion of weak-mindedness. Posturing was her scorn, but no one spoke more ardently of the things she admired.
"Eight years just eight years." "You speak as if it were eighty." "Why, so it seems, when I look back. I was a boy, and had the strangest notions of the world." "You shall tell me all about that some day," said Mrs. Borisoff, glancing at him. "At the Castle, perhaps " "Oh yes! At the Castle!"
"I too," said Piers. "But he is lost sight of, nowadays, in comparison with the man who invents a new gun or a new bullet." "Yes the beasts!" exclaimed Mrs. Borisoff, with a laugh. "What a world! I'm always glad I have no children. But you wanted to speak, not about Dr. Derwent, but Dr. Derwent's daughter." Piers bent forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Tell me about her will you?"
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