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"Pure maiden," he murmured half-aloud: "pure stars," he added with a smile, and went peacefully to bed. But Lemm sat a long while on his bed, a music-book on his knees. He felt as though sweet, unheard melody was haunting him; already he was all aglow and astir, already he felt the languor and sweetness of its presence.. but he could not reach it.
Liza immediately sat down to the piano, and interpreted the romance. Unfortunately the music turned out to be confused and unpleasantly constrained. It was evident that the composer had attempted to express some deep and passionate idea, but no result had been attained. The attempt remained an attempt, and nothing more. Both Lavretsky and Liza felt this, and Lemm was conscious of it too.
Anton was not the only person who was agitated that day. Lemm was excited too. He had put on a shortish snuff-colored coat with pointed tails, and had tied his cravat tight, he coughed incessantly, and made way for every one with kindly and affable mien. As for Lavretsky, he remarked with satisfaction that he remained on the same friendly footing with Liza as before.
Lisa sat down at once to the piano and played at sight the song.... Alas! the music turned out to be complicated and painfully strained; it was clear that the composer had striven to express something passionate and deep, but nothing had come of it; the effort had remained an effort. Lavretsky and Lisa both felt this, and Lemm understood it.
With some difficulty the little girls were torn away from the lake, and got ready for the journey. Lavretsky said he would accompany his guests half-way home, and ordered a horse to be saddled for him. After seeing Maria Dmitrievna into her carriage he looked about for Lemm; but the old man could nowhere be found.
"Farewell, farewell!" she repeated, and then, drawing her veil still lower over her face, she went away, almost at a run. Lavretsky looked after her for a time, and then walked down the street with drooping head. Presently he ran against Lemm, who also was walking along with his hat pulled low over his brows, and his eyes fixed on his feet. They looked at each other for a time in silence.
Lemm and the two little girls went on to the dam at the end of the lake. Lavretsky placed himself near Liza. The fish kept continually nibbling. Every minute a captured carp glistened in the air with its sometimes golden, sometimes silver, sides. The little girls kept up a ceaseless flow of joyful exclamations. Madame Kalitine herself two or three times uttered a plaintive cry.
Lemm pushed his hat on to the back of his head; in the dim twilight of the clear night his face looked paler and younger. "'And you too," he continued, his voice gradually sinking, "'ye know who loves, who can love, because, pure ones, ye alone can comfort'... No, that's not it at all! I am not a poet," he said, "but something of that sort." "I am sorry I am not a poet," observed Lavretsky.
The music resounded in still greater magnificence; a mighty flood of melody and all his bliss seemed speaking and singing in its strains. He looked about him; the music floated down from two upper windows of a small house. "Lemm?" cried Lavretsky as he ran to the house. "Lemm! Lemm!" he repeated aloud.
"H'm. I can send Katrine, my cook. No, I will go myself." "And you will bring me an answer?" "Yes, I will bring you an answer." Lemm sighed. "Yes, my poor young friend; you are certainly an unlucky young man." Lavretsky wrote a few words to Lisa.
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