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Updated: June 18, 2025
She received him in the most cordial manner; and, till late that night, the lofty rooms of the mansion and the very garden itself were enlivened by the sounds of music, and of song, and of joyous French talk. Panshine spent three days with Varvara Pavlovna. When saying farewell to her, and warmly pressing her beautiful hands, he promised to return very soon and he kept his word.
I too am an artist, though but a poor one, and that namely, that I am a poor artist I am going to prove to you on the spot. Let us begin." "Very good, let us begin," said Liza. The first adagio went off with tolerable success, although Panshine made several mistakes. What he had written himself, and what he had learnt by heart, he played very well, but he could not play at sight correctly.
"No; not Lizaveta Mikhailovna, but Elena Miknailovna." "Oh, indeed! very good. Lenochka, go up-stairs with Monsieur Lemm." The old man was about to follow the little girl, when Panshine stopped him. "Don't go away when the lesson is over, Christopher Fedorovich," he said. "Lizaveta Mikhailovna and I are going to play a duet one of Beethoven's sonatas."
Panshine began by complimenting Lavretsky, giving him an account of the rapture with which, according to him, all the Kalitine family had spoken of Vasilievskoe; then, according to his custom, adroitly bringing the conversation round to himself, he began to speak of his occupations, of his views concerning life, the world, and the service; said a word or two about the future of Russia, and about the necessity of holding the Governors of provinces in hand; joked facetiously about himself in that respect, and added that he, among others, had been entrusted at St.
Until that day Panshine had treated Lavretsky, not with haughtiness exactly, but with condescension; but Liza, in describing her excursion of the day before, had spoken of Lavretsky as an excellent and clever man. That was enough; the "excellent" man must be captivated.
Varvara Pavlovna had a habit of every now and then just touching the sleeve of the person with whom she was conversing. These light touches greatly agitated Panshine. She had the faculty of easily becoming intimate with any one.
Before a couple of hours had passed, it seemed to Panshine as if he had known her an age, and as if Liza that very Liza whom he had loved so much, and to whom he had proposed the evening before had vanished in a kind of fog. Tea was brought; the conversation became even more free from restraint than before.
"Une nature poétique," said Maria Dmitrievna, "certainly cannot go cultivating the soil et puis, it is your vocation, Vladimir Nikolaevich, to do every thing en grand." This was too much even for Panshine, who grew confused, and changed the conversation. He tried to turn it on the beauty of the starry heavens, on Schubert's music, but somehow his efforts did not prove successful.
"We tried to play Beethoven's sonata without you," continued Panshine, caressingly throwing his arm over the old man's shoulder and smiling sweetly; "but we didn't succeed in bringing it to a harmonious conclusion. Just imagine, I couldn't play two consecutive notes right."
Panshine replied to her, but she refused to agree with him.
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