time they were sitting all three together: he, the husband, and the wife. The conversation was going on as usual, without any ceremony. Kirsánof was doing the most of the talking, but suddenly he grew silent.
"What has got into you, Aleksandr?"
"What has made you so solemn all of a sudden, Aleksandr Matvéitch?"
"Nothing in particular; I feel rather blue."
"That does not happen to you very often," said Viéra Pavlovna.
"I might say, never, without some reason," said Kirsánof, in a constrained tone.
A few minutes afterwards he got up and went away, earlier than some times, taking his leave in his usual simple manner.
Two days afterwards Lopukhóf told Viéra Pavlovna that he had been to see Kirsánof, who, as it seemed to him, had received him in a very strange way. Kirsánof apparently wanted to be ceremonious towards him, and this had always been an unnecessary formality between them. Lopukhóf had looked him straight in the face, and said:—
"Aleksandr, you must be provoked with some one; is it with me?"
"No."
"Is it with Viérotchka?"
"No."
"Then what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing at all; it is only in your imagination."
"Why aren't you friendly towards me to-day? You are not natural; you are as though you were provoked."
Kirsánof began to pour out his assurances that Lopukhóf was mistaken; and in this way he managed to confirm the impression that he was provoked. Then, afterwards, it seemed as though he must have been ashamed; he again became as unaffected, kind, friendly, as could be desired. Lopukhóf, availing himself of the fact that the man seemed in his right mind again, asked him:—
"Now, Aleksandr, tell me the reason of your getting provoked."
"I never thought of being provoked." And again he became disagreeable and disputatious.
What a marvel! Lopukhóf could not think of anything that might have offended him; and this did not seem possi-
