The next day, at two o’clock, Elena was standing in the garden before a small kennel, where she was rearing two puppies. (A gardener had found them deserted under a hedge, and brought them to the young mistress, being told by the laundry-maids that she took pity on beasts of all sorts. He was not wrong in his reckoning. Elena had given him a quarter-rouble.) She looked into the kennel, assured herself that the puppies were alive and well, and that they had been provided with fresh straw, turned round, and almost uttered a cry; down an alley straight towards her was walking Insarov, alone.

‘Good-morning,’ he said, coming up to her and taking off his cap. She noticed that he certainly had got much sunburnt during the last three days. ‘I meant to have come here with Andrei Petrovitch, but he was rather slow in starting; so here I am without him. There is no one in your house; they are all asleep or out of doors, so I came on here.’

‘You seem to be apologising,’ replied Elena. ‘There’s no need to do that. We are always very glad to see you. Let us sit here on the bench in the shade.’

She seated herself. Insarov sat down near her.

‘You have not been at home these last days, I think?’ she began.

‘No,’ he answered. ‘I went away. Did Andrei Petrovitch tell you?’

Insarov looked at her, smiled, and began playing with his cap. When he smiled, his eyes blinked, and his lips puckered up, which gave him a very good-humoured appearance.

‘Andrei Petrovitch most likely told you too that I went away with some — unattractive people,’ he said, still smiling.

Elena was a little confused, but she felt at once that Insarov must always be told the truth.

‘Yes,’ she said decisively.

‘What did you think of me?’ he asked her suddenly.

Elena raised her eyes to him.

‘I thought,’ she said, ‘I thought that you always know what you’re doing, and you are incapable of doing anything wrong.’

‘Well — thanks for that. You see, Elena Nikolaevna,’ he began, coming closer to her in a confidential way, ‘there is a little family of our people here; among us there are men of little culture; but all are warmly devoted to the common cause. Unluckily, one can never get on without dissensions, and they all know me, and trust me; so they sent for me to settle a dispute. I went.’

‘Was it far from here?’

‘I went about fifty miles, to the Troitsky district. There, near the monastery, there are some of our people. At any rate, my trouble was not thrown away; I settled the matter.’

‘And had you much difficulty?’

‘Yes. One was obstinate through everything. He did not want to give back the money.’

‘What? Was the dispute over money?’

‘Yes; and a small sum of money too. What did you suppose?’

‘And you travelled over fifty miles for such trifling matters? Wasted three days?’

‘They are not trifling matters, Elena Nikolaevna, when my countrymen are involved. It would be wicked to refuse in such cases. I see here that you don’t refuse help even to puppies, and I think well of you for it. And as for the time I have lost, that’s no great harm; I will make it up later. Our time does not belong to us.’

‘To whom does it belong then?’

‘Why, to all who need us. I have told you all this on the spur of the moment, because I value your good opinion. I can fancy how Andrei Petrovitch must have made you wonder!’

‘You value my good opinion,’ said Elena, in an undertone, ‘why?’

Insarov smiled again.

‘Because you are a good young lady, not an aristocrat . . . that’s all.’

A short silence followed.

‘Dmitri Nikanorovitch,’ said Elena, ‘do you know that this is the first time you have been so unreserved with me?’

‘How’s that? I think I have always said everything I thought to you.’

‘No, this is the first time, and I am very glad, and I too want to be open with you. May I?’

Insarov began t............