thought that was the proper way," she faltered, gazing open-eyed at Varvara Petrovna.

"Liza called you that." "What Liza ?" "Why, this young lady here," said Marya Timofyevna, pointing with her finger.
"So she's Liza already ?" "You called her that yourself just now," said Marya Timofyevna growing a little bolder.

"And I dreamed of a beauty like that," she added, laughing, as it were accidentally.
Varvara Petrovna reflected, and grew calmer, she even smiled faintly at Marya Timofyevna's last words; the latter, catching her smile, got up from her chair, and limping, went timidly towards her.
"Take it.

I forgot to give it back.

Don't be angry with my rudeness." She took from her shoulders the black shawl that Varvara Petrovna had wrapped round her.
"Put it on again at once, and you can keep it always.