cheeks, by every sign a retired general.  Lavretsky did not take his eyes off the girl who had made such an impression on him; suddenly the door of the box opened and Mihalevitch went in.  The appearance of this man, almost his one acquaintance in Moscow, in the society of the one girl who was absorbing his whole attention, struck him as curious and significant.  Continuing to gaze into the box, he observed that all the persons in it treated Mihalevitch as an old friend.  The performance on the stage ceased to interest Lavretsky, even Motchalov, though he was that evening in his “best form,” did not produce the usual impression on him.  At one very pathetic part, Lavretsky involuntarily looked at his beauty:  she was bending forward, her cheeks glowing under the influence of his persistent gaze, her eyes, which were fixed on the stage, slowly turned and rested on him.  All night he was! haunted by those eyes.  The skillfully constructed barriers were broken down at last; he was in a shiver and a fever, and the next day he went to Mihalevitch.  From him he learnt that the name of the beauty was Varvara Pavlovna Korobyin; that the old people sitting with her in the box were her father and mother; and that he, Mihalevitch, had become acquainted with them a year before, while he was staying at Count N.’s, in the position of a tutor, near Moscow.  The enthusiast spoke in rapturous praise of Varvara Pavlovna.  “My dear fellow,” he exclaimed with the impetuous ring in his voice peculiar to him, “that girl is a marvelous creature, a genius, an artist in the true sense of the word, and she is very good too.”  Noticing from Lavretsky’s inquiries the impression Varvara Pavlovna had made on him, he himself proposed to introduce him to her, adding that he was like one of the family with them; that the general was not at all proud, and the mother was so stupid she could not say “Bo” to a goose.  Lavretsky blushed, muttered something unintelligible, and ran away.  For five whole days he was struggling with his timidity; on the sixth day the young Spartan got into a new uniform and placed himself at Mihalevitch’s disposal.  The latter being his own valet, confined himself to combing his hair—­and both betook themselves to the Korobyins.

Chapter XIII

Varvara Pavlovna’s father, Pavel Petrovitch Korobyin, a retired general-major, had spent his whole time on duty in Petersburg.  He had had the reputation in his youth of a good dancer and driller.  Through poverty, he had served as adjutant to two or three generals of no distinction, and had married the daughter of one of them with a dowry of twenty-five thousand roubles.  He mastered all the science of military discipline and manoeuvres to the minutest niceties, he went on in harness, till at last, after twenty-five years’ service, he received the rank of a general and the command of a regiment.  Then he might have relaxed his efforts and have quietly secured his pecuniary