As to Nastasia Carpovna, Marfa Timofeevna had made acquaintance with her on a pilgrimage, in a monastery.  She went up to that old lady in church one day,—­Nastasia Carpovna had pleased Marfa Timofeevna by praying as the latter lady said, “in very good taste”—­began to talk to her, and invited her home to a cup of tea.  From that day she parted with her no more.  Nastasia Carpovna, whose father had belonged to the class of poor gentry, was a widow without children.  She was a woman of a very sweet and happy disposition; she had a round head, grey hair, and soft, white hands.  Her face also was soft, and her features, including a somewhat comical snub nose, were heavy, but pleasant.  She worshipped Marfa Timofeevna, who loved her dearly, although she teased her greatly about her susceptible heart.  Nastasia Carpovna had a weakness for all young men, and never could help blushing like a girl at the most innocent joke.  Her whole property consisted of twelve hundred paper roubles.[A] She lived at Marfa Timofeevna’s expense, but on a footing of perfect equality with her.  Marfa Timofeevna could not have endured any thing like servility.

[Footnote A:  About L50.]

“Ah, Fedia!” she began, as soon as she saw him

“You didn’t see my family last night.  Please to admire them now; we are all met together for tea.  This is our second, our feast-day tea.  You may embrace us all.  Only Shurochka wouldn’t let you, and the cat would scratch you.  Is it to-day you go?”

“Yes,” said Lavretsky, sitting down on a low chair.  “I have just taken leave of Maria Dmitrievna.  I saw Lizaveta Mikhailovna too.”

“Call her Liza, my dear.  Why should she be Mikhailovna for you?  But do sit still, or you will break Shurochka’s chair.”

“She was on her way to church,” continued Lavretsky.  “Is she seriously inclined?”

“Yes, Fedia, very much so.  More than you or I, Fedia.”

“And do you mean to say you are not seriously inclined?” lisped Nastasia Carpovna.  “If you have not gone to the early mass to-day, you will go to the later one.”

“Not a bit of it.  Thou shalt go alone.  I’ve grown lazy, my mother,” answered Marfa Timofeevna.  “I am spoiling myself terribly with tea drinking.”

She said thou to Nastasia Carpovna, although she lived on a footing of equality with her—­but it was not for nothing that she was a Pestof.  Three Pestofs occur in the Sinodik[A] of Ivan the Terrible.  Marfa Timofeevna was perfectly well aware of the fact.

[Footnote A:  “I.e., in the list of the nobles of his time, in the sixteenth century.]

“Tell me, please,” Lavretsky began again.  “Maria Dmitrievna was talking to me just now about that—­what’s his name?—­Panshine.  What sort of a man is he?”

“Good Lord! what a chatter-box she is!” grumbled Marfa Timofeevna.  “I’ve no doubt she has communicated to you as a secret that he hangs about here as a suitor.  She might have been contented to ’Whisper about it with her popovich[A] But no, it seems that is not enough for her.  And yet there is nothing settled so far, thank God! but she’s always chattering.”