"Well, we will finish this some other time," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, as he saw the children come running out.
In advance of the rest, galloping sidewise in her tightly fitting stockings, came Tania, waving a basket and Sergyeï Ivanovitch's hat.
Boldly darting up to him, and with sparkling eyes, — they were just like her father's handsome eyes, — she gave Sergyeï Ivanovitch his hat, and made believe that she was going to put it on him, tempering her audacity with a timid and affectionate smile.
"Varenka is waiting," said Tania, carefully putting his hat on his head, seeing by Sergyeï Ivanovitch's smile that she might do so.
Varenka was standing at the door. She had put on a yellow muslin frock, and had tied a white hat over her head.
"I am coming — I am coming, Varvara Andreyevna!" cried Sergyeï Ivanovitch, finishing his cup of coffee and putting his handkerchief and cigarette-case into his pocket.
"Isn't Varenka charming?" asked Kitty of her husband, as Sergyeï Ivanovitch got up. She said this so that he might hear, for this was what she especially wanted. "And how pretty she is, royally pretty. — Varenka," cried Kitty, "are you going to the woods by the mill? We will join you there."
"You really forget your condition, Kitty," said the old princess, warningly, as she came hastily to the door. "You ought not to shout so loud."
Varenka, on hearing Kitty's voice and the princess's reproof, came up to them with quick, light steps. Her quickness of motion, the bright color that flushed her cheek, all proved that some metamorphosis was taking place in her. Kitty knew that this was something unusual, and watched her attentively. She now called Varenka only for the sake of bestowing on her a silent benediction, in the interest of an important event which she firmly believed would take place that day in the woods.
