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Updated: June 8, 2025
Marya Dmitrievna looked after him in high displeasure, and thought, "What a dolt, a regular peasant! Well, now I understand why his wife could not remain faithful to him." Marfa Timofyevna was sitting in her room, surrounded by her little court.
Marfa Timofyevna was obliged to promise in return that if, within six months, she did not change her mind, she would herself help her and would do all she could to gain Marya Dmitrievna's consent.
In a whisper the told him no, but that the evening service had been arranged at the desire of Lisaveta Mihalovna and Marfa Timofyevna; that it had been intended to invite a wonder-working image, but that the latter had gone thirty versts away to visit a sick man.
She went as before to the mass as to a festival, she prayed with rapture, with a kind of restrained and shamefaced transport, at which Marya Dmitrievna secretly marvelled not a little, and even Marfa Timofyevna, though she did not restrain Lisa in any way, tried to temper her zeal, and would not let her make too many prostrations to the earth in her prayers; it was not a lady-like habit, she would say.
All at once light footsteps were heard on the stairs and Lisa came in. Lavretsky stood up and bowed; Lisa remained at the door. "Lisa, Lisa, darling," began Marfa Timofyevna eagerly, "where is my book? where did you put my book?" "What book, auntie?" "Why, goodness me, that book! But I didn't call you though... There, it doesn't matter. What are you doing down-stairs? Here Fedor Ivanitch has come.
"I went down into the drawing-room for a book; he was in the garden and he called me." "And you went? A pretty thing! So you love him, eh?" "I love him," answered Lisa softly. "Merciful Heavens! She loves him!" Marfa Timofyevna snatched off her cap. "She loves a married man! Ah! she loves him." "He told me"...began Lisa. "What has he told you, the scoundrel, eh?"
"Yes," replied Lavretsky, "but would it not be better to be just a family party?" "Well, you know, it seems," began Marya Dmitrievna. "But as you please," she added. It was decided to take Lenotchka and Shurotchka. Marfa Timofyevna refused to join in the expedition.
She always wore a white cap and a white dressing-jacket. "What's the matter with you?" she asked Marya Dmitrievna suddenly. "What are you sighing about, pray?" "Nothing," answered the latter. "What exquisite clouds!" "You feel sorry for them, eh?" Marya Dmitrievna made no reply. "Why is it Gedeonovsky does not come?" observed Marfa Timofyevna, moving her knitting needles quickly.
Besides, though Agafya no longer waited on Lisa, she was still in the house and often saw her charge, who believed in her as before. Agafya did not, however, get on well with Marfa Timofyevna, when she came to live in the Kalitins' house. Such gravity and dignity on the part of one who had once worn the motley skirt of a peasant wench displeased the impatient and self-willed old lady.
She had, too, an album of photographs of various sorts. Marya Timofyevna was, of course, expecting the visitor, as the captain had announced. But when Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch went in, she was asleep, half reclining on the sofa, propped on a woolwork cushion. Her visitor closed the door after him noiselessly, and, standing still, scrutinised the sleeping figure.
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