Sergey Ivanovitch was talking to Darya Dmitrievna, jestingly
assuring her that the custom of going away after the wedding was
becoming common because newly married people always felt a little
ashamed of themselves.
"Your brother may feel proud of himself. She's a marvel of
sweetness. I believe you're envious."
"Oh, I've got over that, Darya Dmitrievna," he answered, and a
melancholy and serious expression suddenly came over his face.
Stepan Arkadyevitch was telling his sister-in-law his joke about
"The wreath wants setting straight," she answered, not hearing
"What a pity she's lost her looks so," Countess Nordston said to
Madame Lvova. "Still he's not worth her little finger, is he?"
"Oh, I like him so--not because he's my future beau-frere,"
answered Madame Lvova. "And how well he's behaving! It's so
difficult, too, to look well in such a position, not to be
ridiculous. And he's not ridiculous, and not affected; one can
see he's moved."
"You expected it, I suppose?"
"Almost. She always cared for him."
"Well, we shall see which of them will step on the rug first. I
"It will make no difference," said Madame Lvova; "we're all
obedient wives; it's in our family."
"Oh, I stepped on the rug before Vassily on purpose. And you,