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Updated: June 12, 2025
Panshin quickly learnt the secret of getting on in the world; he knew how to yield with genuine respect to its decrees; he knew how to take up trifles with half ironical seriousness, and to appear to regard everything serious as trifling; he was a capital dancer; and dressed in the English style.
All peoples are essentially alike; only introduce among them good institutions, and the thing is done. But in case of need don't be uneasy. The institutions will transform the life itself." Marya Dmitrievna most feelingly assented to all Panshin said. "What a clever man," she thought, "is talking in my drawing-room!" Lisa sat in silence leaning back against the window; Lavretsky too was silent.
Even if you don't believe me, even if you did decide on a marriage of prudence even in that case you mustn't marry Panshin. He can't be your husband. You will promise me not to be in a hurry, won't you?"
I venture to think that you don't find me a bore, and don't think me a bad fellow, but still you suppose that I what's the saying? would sacrifice friend or father for the sake of a witticism." "You are careless and forgetful, like all men of the world," observed Lisa, "that is all." Panshin frowned a little. "Come," he said, "don't let us discuss me any more; let us play our sonata.
Marya Dmitrievna dropped her cards and moved restlessly in her arm-chair; Varvara Pavlovna looked at her with a half-smile, then turned her eyes towards the door. Panshin made his appearance in a black frock-coat buttoned up to the throat, and a high English collar. "It was hard for me to obey; but you see I have come," this was what was expressed by his unsmiling, freshly shaven countenance.
"She will obey her mother," he thought, "she will marry Panshin; but even if she refuses him, won't it be just the same as far as I am concerned?" Going up to the looking-glass he minutely scrutinised his own face and shrugged his shoulders. The day passed quickly by in these meditations; and evening came.
"I have already introduced myself to Lisaveta Mihalovna," interposed Lavretsky. "Monsier Panshin... Sergei Petrovitch Gedeonovsky... Please sit down. When I look at you, I can hardly believe my eyes. How are you?" "As you see, I'm flourishing. And you, too, cousin no ill-luck to you! have grown no thinner in eight years." "To think how long it is since we met!" observed Marya Dmitrievna dreamily.
"That was only thrown off in the intervals of business... but do you sing?" "Yes." "Oh! sing us something," urged Marya Dmitrievna. Varvara Pavlovna pushed her hair back off her glowing cheeks and gave her head a little shake. "Our voices ought to go well together," she observed, turning to Panshin; "let us sing a duet. Do you know Son geloso, or La ci darem or Mira la bianca luna?"
Varvara Pavlovna stared steadily at him, leaning her elbows on the piano and holding her white hands on a level with her lips. Panshin finished the song. "Charmant, charmant idee," she said with the calm self-confidence of a connoisseur. "Tell me, have you composed anything for a woman's voice, for a mezzo-soprano?" "I hardly compose at all," replied Panshin.
"What do you say, Christopher Fedoritch," he said at last, "you see everything here seems in good order now, and the garden is in full bloom, couldn't we invite her over here for a day with her mother and my old aunt... eh? Would you like it?" Lemm bent his head over his plate. "Invite her," he murmured, scarcely audibly. "But Panshin isn't wanted?"
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