On one of the hottest days of the summer of 1853, in the shade of a tall lime-tree on the bank of the river Moskva, not far from Kuntsovo, two young men were lying on the grass. One, who looked about ...

The young men went down to the river Moskva and walked along its bank. There was a breath of freshness from the water, and the soft plash of tiny waves caressed the ear. “I would have another bathe,” ...

Anna Vassilyevna Stahov⁠—her maiden name was Shubin⁠—had been left, at seven years old, an orphan and heiress of a pretty considerable property. She had very rich and also very poor relations; the poo...

“Come to dinner, come along,” said the lady of the house in a plaintive voice, and they all went into the dining-room. “Sit beside me, Zoé,” added Anna Vassilyevna, “and you, Hélène, take our guest; a...

Shubin did not leave his room before night. It was already quite dark; the moon⁠—not yet at the full⁠—stood high in the sky, the milky way shone white, and the stars spotted the heavens, when Bersenye...

Meanwhile, Elena had gone to her room, and sat down at the open window, her head resting on her hands. To spend about a quarter of an hour every evening at her bedroom window had become a habit with h...

The next day at twelve o’clock, Bersenyev set off in a return coach to Moscow. He had to get some money from the post-office, to buy some books, and he wanted to seize the opportunity to see Insarov a...

On the evening of the same day, Anna Vassilyevna was sitting in her drawing-room and was on the verge of weeping. There were also in the room her husband and a certain Uvar Ivanovitch Stahov, a distan...

Shubin went back to his room in the lodge and was just opening a book, when Nikolai Artemyevitch’s valet came cautiously into his room and handed him a small triangular note, sealed with a thick heral...

Elena met Bersenyev cordially, though not in the garden, but the drawing-room, and at once, almost impatiently, renewed the conversation of the previous day. She was alone; Nikolai Artemyevitch had qu...

Two days later, Insarov in accordance with his promise arrived at Bersenyev’s with his luggage. He had no servant; but without any assistance he put his room to rights, arranged the furniture, dusted ...

“The conquering hero Insarov will be here directly!” he shouted triumphantly, going into the Stahovs’ drawing-room, where there happened at the instant to be only Elena and Zoya. “Wer?” inquired Zoya ...

During the first fortnight of Insarov’s stay in the Kuntsovo neighbourhood, he did not visit the Stahovs more than four or five times; Bersenyev went to see them every day. Elena was always pleased to...

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 youn...

Anna Vassilyevna, as the reader knows already, liked staying at home; but at times she manifested, quite unexpectedly, an irresistible longing for something out of the common, some extraordinary parti...

Soon after her acquaintance with Insarov, Elena (for the fifth or sixth time) began a diary. Here are some extracts from it: “June.⁠ ⁠… Andrei Petrovitch brings me books, but I can’t read them. I’m as...

On the very day on which Elena had written this last fatal line in her diary, Insarov was sitting in Bersenyev’s room, and Bersenyev was standing before him with a look of perplexity on his face. Insa...

Elena walked with her head bent and her eyes fixed straight before her. She feared nothing, she considered nothing; she wanted to see Insarov once more. She went on, not noticing that the sun had long...

An hour later, Elena, with her hat in one hand, her cape in the other, walked slowly into the drawing-room of the villa. Her hair was in slight disorder; on each cheek was to be seen a small bright sp...

“Come to my room for a minute,” Shubin said to Bersenyev, directly the latter had taken leave of Anna Vassilyevna: “I have something to show you.” Bersenyev followed him to his attic. He was surprised...

Elena’s first sensation on awakening was one of happy consternation. “Is it possible? Is it possible?” she asked herself, and her heart grew faint with happiness. Recollections came rushing on her⁠ ⁠…...

No one in the house of the retired lieutenant of guards, Stahov, had ever seen him so sour, and at the same time so self-confident and important as on that day. He walked into the drawing-room in his ...

Three weeks after Kurnatovsky’s first visit, Anna Vassilyevna, to Elena’s great delight, returned to Moscow, to her large wooden house near Prechistenka; a house with columns, white lyres and wreaths ...

Insarov decided to await more positive news, and began to make preparations for departure. The difficulty was a serious one. For him personally there were no obstacles. He had only to ask for a passpo...

“There’s someone here looks like a locksmith or something of the sort,” Bersenyev was informed the following evening by his servant, who was distinguished by a severe deportment and sceptical turn of ...

For eight whole days Insarov lay between life and death. The doctor was incessantly visiting him, interested as a young man in a difficult case. Shubin heard of Insarov’s critical position, and made i...

Bersenyev’s words turned out only partly true; the danger was over, but Insarov gained strength slowly, and the doctor talked of a complete undermining of the whole system. The patient left his bed fo...

Insarov read Elena’s note, and at once began to set his room to rights; asked his landlady to take away the medicine-glasses, took off his dressing-gown and put on his coat. His head was swimming and ...

Nikolai Artemyevitch was walking up and down in his study with a scowl on his face. Shubin was sitting at the window with his legs crossed, tranquilly smoking a cigar. “Leave off tramping from corner ...

Meanwhile the storm gathering in the East was breaking. Turkey had declared war on Russia; the time fixed for the evacuation of the Principalities had already expired, the day of the disaster of Sinop...

Shubin had spoken truly. The unexpected news of Elena’s marriage nearly killed Anna Vassilyevna. She took to her bed. Nikolai Artemyevitch insisted on her not admitting her daughter to her presence; h...

The day of departure drew near. November was already over; the latest date for starting had come. Insarov had long ago made his preparations, and was burning with anxiety to get out of Moscow as soon ...

It was a bright April day. On the broad lagoon which separates Venice from the narrow strip of accumulated sea sand, called the Lido, a gondola was gliding⁠—swaying rhythmically at every push made by ...

Insarov waked late with a dull pain in his head, and a feeling, as he expressed it, of disgusting weakness all over. He got up however. “Renditch has not come?” was his first question. “Not yet,” answ...

The next day, in the same room, Renditch was standing at the window; before him, wrapped in a shawl, sat Elena. In the next room, Insarov lay in his coffin. Elena’s face was both scared and lifeless; ...