"Varvara Petrovna, I've come for my daughter!" Varvara Petrovna looked at her from under her brows, half rose to meet her, and scarcely concealing her vexation brought out: "Good morning, Praskovya Ivanovna, please be seated, I knew you would come!" II There could be nothing surprising to Praskovya Ivanovna in such a reception.

Varvara Petrovna had from childhood upwards treated her old school friend tyrannically, and under a show of friendship almost contemptuously.

And this was an exceptional occasion too.

During the last few days there had almost been a complete rupture between the two households, as I have mentioned incidentally already.

The reason of this rupture was still a mystery to Varvara Petrovna, which made it all the more offensive; but the chief cause of offence was that Praskovya Ivanovna had succeeded in taking up an extraordinarily supercilious attitude towards Varvara Petrovna.