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Dunyasha ran up and down like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a Cossack waltz on the guitar.
Princess Mary, with the paper in her hand, rose from the window and with a pale face went out of the room and into what had been Prince Andrew's study. "Dunyasha, send Alpatych, or Dronushka, or somebody to me!" she said, "and tell Mademoiselle Bourienne not to come to me," she added, hearing Mademoiselle Bourienne's voice.
"Please come, Princess... The Prince," said Dunyasha in a breaking voice. "Immediately, I'm coming, I'm coming!" replied the princess hurriedly, not giving Dunyasha time to finish what she was saying, and trying to avoid seeing the girl she ran toward the house. "Princess, it's God's will! You must be prepared for everything," said the Marshal, meeting her at the house door.
Kirillovna exercised great influence over her mistress and very skilfully succeeded in getting rid of all rivals. With this Dunyasha Akim must needs fall in love! And he fell in love as he had never fallen in love before.
There were three people at the samovar: maman; an old lady with tortoiseshell pince-nez, who gave music lessons; and Avgustin Mihalitch, an elderly and very stout Frenchman, who was employed at a perfumery factory. "I have had no dinner to-day," said maman. "I ought to send the maid to buy some bread." "Dunyasha!" shouted the Frenchman.
But there's some one in here. In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend. 'Who's that? Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a pretty girl! 'Whom are you speaking of? 'You know; only one of them was pretty. Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who Fenitchka was.
'She'll come to grief, perhaps, he said to himself.... 'But who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say! Piotr, however, was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion.
"Well, if it's too long we'll take it up... we'll tack it up in one minute," said the resolute Dunyasha taking a needle that was stuck on the front of her little shawl and, still kneeling on the floor, set to work once more. At that moment, with soft steps, the countess came in shyly, in her cap and velvet gown. "Oo-oo, my beauty!" exclaimed the count, "she looks better than any of you!"
And now, now it seemed to her she was penetrating the mystery.... But at the instant when it seemed that the incomprehensible was revealing itself to her a loud rattle of the door handle struck painfully on her ears. Dunyasha, her maid, entered the room quickly and abruptly with a frightened look on her face and showing no concern for her mistress.
Dunyasha had spent about three years being trained in Moscow where she had picked up the peculiar airs and graces which distinguish maidservants who have been in Moscow or Petersburg. She was rather clever with her needle, too, yet with all this Lizaveta Prohorovna was not very warmly disposed toward her, thanks to the headmaid, Kirillovna, a sly and intriguing woman, no longer young.
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