Even there Varvara Pavlovna would not leave her in peace.  She came to her, and began to praise her cleverness and taste.  Liza’s heart began to beat with painful force.  Scarcely could she master her feelings, scarcely could she remain sitting quietly in her place.  It seemed to her as if Varvara Pavlovna knew all and were mocking her with secret triumph.  Fortunately for her, Gedeonovsky began to talk to Varvara and diverted her attention.  Liza bent over her frame and watched her without being observed.  “That woman,” she thought, “was once loved by him.”  But then she immediately drove out of her mind even so much as the idea of Lavretsky.  She felt her head gradually beginning to swim, and she was afraid of losing command over herself.  Maria Dmitrievna began to talk about music.

“I have heard, my dear,” she began, “that you are a wonderful virtuosa.”

“I haven’t played for a long time,” replied Varvara Pavlovna, but she immediately took her seat at the piano and ran her fingers rapidly along the keys.  “Do you wish me to play?”

“If you will do us that favor.”

Varvara Pavlovna played in a masterly style a brilliant and difficult study by Herz.  Her performance was marked by great power and rapidity.

“A sylphide!” exclaimed Gedeonovsky.

“It is wonderful!” declared Maria Dmitrievna.  “I must confess you have fairly astonished me, Varvara Pavlovna,” calling that lady by her name for the first time.  “Why you might give concerts.  We have a musician here, an old German, very learned and quite an original.  He gives Liza lessons.  You would simply make him go out of his mind.”

“Is Lizaveta Mikhailovna also a musician?” asked Madame Lavretsky, turning her head a little towards her.

“Yes; she doesn’t play badly, and she is very fond I of music.  But what does that signify in comparison with you?  But we have a young man here besides.  You really must make his acquaintance.  He is a thorough artist in feeling, and he composes charmingly.  He is the only person here who can fully appreciate you”

“A young man?” said Varvara Pavlovna.  “What is he?  Some poor fellow?”

“I beg your pardon.  He is the leading cavalier here, and not here only—­et a Petersbourg—­a chamberlain, received in the best society.  You surely must have heard of him—­Vladimir Nikolaevich Panshine.  He is here on government business—­a future minister!”

“And an artist too?”

“An artist in feeling, and so amiable.  You shall see him.  He has been here a great deal for some time past.  I asked him to come this evening.  I hope he will come,” added Maria Dmitrievna with a slight sigh and a bitter smile.

Liza understood the hidden meaning of that smile, but she had other things to think about then.

“And he’s young?” repeated Varvara Pavlovna, lightly modulating from key to key.

“Twenty-eight years old—­and a most pleasing exterior. Un jeune homme accompli.”