And yours ?" "Pelagueya Nilovna." "So here we are all acquainted." "Yes," said the mother, breathing more easily, as if relieved, and looking at the girl with a smile.
The Little Russian helped her off with her cloak, and inquired: "Is it cold ?" "Out in the open, very! The wind--goodness!" Her voice was musical and clear, her mouth small and smiling, her body round and vigorous.

Removing her wraps, she rubbed her ruddy cheeks briskly with her little hands, red with the cold, and walking lightly and quickly she passed into the room, the heels of her shoes rapping sharply on the floor.
"She goes without overshoes," the mother noted silently.
"Indeed it is cold," repeated the girl.

"I'm frozen through--ooh!" "I'll warm up the samovar for you!" the mother said, bustling and solicitous.

"Ready in a moment," she called from the kitchen.
Somehow it seemed to her she had known the girl long, and even loved her with the tender, compassionate love of a mother.

She was glad to see her; and recalling her guest's bright blue eyes, she smiled contentedly, as she prepared the samovar and listened to the conversation in the room.
"Why so gloomy, Nakhodka ?" asked the girl.
"The widow has good eyes," answered the Little Russian.