The legs of the Spartan gave way beneath him when MikhalÉvitch conducted him into the rather shabbily furnished drawing-room of the KorÓbyns, and presented him to the master and mistress of the house. But the feeling of timidity which had taken possession of him promptly disappeared: in the General the kindliness of nature innate in all Russians was greatly increased by that special sort of courtesy which is peculiar to all besmirched people; the Generaless soon disappeared, somehow; as for VarvÁra PÁvlovna, she was so calm and self-possessedly amiable, that any one would immediately have felt himself at home in her presence; moreover, from the whole of her enchanting person, from her smiling eyes, from her innocently-sloping shoulders and faintly-rosy hands, from her light and, at the same time, rather languid gait, from the very sound of her voice, which was low and sweet,—there breathed forth an insinuating charm, as intangible as a delicate perfume, a soft and as yet modest intoxication, something which it is difficult to express in words, but which touched and excited,—and, of course, excited something which was not timidity. LavrÉtzky turned the conversation on the theatre, on the performance of the preceding evening; she immediately began, herself, to speak of MotchÁloff, and did not confine herself merely to exclamations and sighs, but uttered several just and femininely-penetrating remarks concerning his acting. MikhalÉvitch alluded to music; without any affectation she seated herself at the piano, and played with precision several mazurkas by Chopin, which had only just come into fashion. The dinner-hour arrived; LavrÉtzky made a motion to depart, but they kept him; at table, the General treated him to good claret, for which the General's lackey had galloped in a cab to DeprÉ's. Late at night, LavrÉtzky returned home, and sat for a long time, without undressing, his eyes covered with his hand, in dumb enchantment. It seemed to him, that only now had he come to understand why life was worth living; all his hypotheses, his intentions, all that nonsense and rubbish, vanished instantaneously; his whole soul was merged in one sentiment, in one desire, in the desire for happiness, possession, love, the sweet love of woman. From that day forth, he began to go often to the KorÓbyns'. Six months later, he declared himself to VarvÁra PÁvlovna, and offered her his hand. His proposal was accepted; the General had long since, almost on the eve of his first visit, inquired of MikhalÉvitch how many serfs he, LavrÉtzky, had; and VarvÁra PÁvlovna also, who, during the whole period of the young man's courtship and even at the moment of his declaration, had preserved her habitual tranquillity and clearness of soul,—VarvÁra PÁvlovna also was well aware that her lover was rich; and KalliÓpe KÁrlovna said to herself: "Meine Tochter macht eine schÖne Partie"—and bought herself a new turban.