But this joyous smile at once recalled everything to

him, and he grew thoughtful.

Two childish voices (Stepan Arkadyevitch recognized the voices of

Grisha, his youngest boy, and Tanya, his eldest girl) were heard

outside the door. They were carrying something, and dropped it.

"I told you not to sit passengers on the roof," said the little

girl in English; "there, pick them up!"

"Everything's in confusion," thought Stepan Arkadyevitch; "there

are the children running about by themselves." And going to the

door, he called them. They threw down the box, that represented

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a train, and came in to their father.

The little girl, her father's favorite, ran up boldly, embraced

him, and hung laughingly on his neck, enjoying as she always did

the smell of scent that came from his whiskers. At last the

little girl kissed his face, which was flushed from his stooping

posture and beaming with tenderness, loosed her hands, and was

about to run away again; but her father held her back.

"How is mamma?" he asked, passing his hand over his daughter's

smooth, soft little neck. "Good morning," he said, smiling to

the boy, who had come up to greet him. He was conscious that he

loved the boy less, and always tried to be fair; but the boy felt

it, and did not respond with a smile to his father's chilly

smile.

"Mamma? She is up," answered the girl.

Stepan Arkadyevitch sighed. "That means that she's not slept

again all night," he thought.

"Well, is she cheerful?"

The little girl knew that there was a quarrel between her father

and mother, and that her mother could not be cheerful, and that

her father must be aware of this, and that he was pretending when

he asked about it so lightly. And she blushed for her father.

He at once perceived it, and blushed too.

"I don't know," she said. "She did not say we must do our

lessons, but she said we were to go for a walk with Miss Hoole to

grandmamma's."

"Well, go, Tanya, my darling. Oh, wait a minute, though," he

said, still holding her and stroking her soft little hand.

He took off the mantelpiece, where he had put it yesterday, a

little box of sweets, and gave her two, picking out her

favorites, a chocolate and a fondant.

"For Grisha?" said the little girl, pointing to the chocolate.

"Yes, yes." And still stroking her little shoulder, he kissed

her on the roots of her hair and neck, and let her go.




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