Liza | Page 8

upon as an
efficient public servant; the work "burnt under his hands;" he spoke of
it jestingly, as a man of the world should, who does not attach any
special importance to his employment; but he was a "doer." Heads of
departments like such subordinates; he himself never doubted that in
time, supposing he really wished it, he would be a Minister.
"You are so good as to say that I won your money," said Gedeonovsky;
"but who won fifteen roubles from me last week? And besides--"
"Ah, rogue, rogue!" interrupted Panshine, in a pleasant tone, but with
an air of indifference bordering on contempt, and then, without paying
him any further attention, he accosted Liza.

"I cannot get the overture to Oberon here," he began. "Madame
Bielenitsine boasted that she had a complete collection of classical
music; but in reality she has nothing but polkas and waltzes. However,
I have already written to Moscow, and you shall have the overture in a
week."
"By the way," he continued, "I wrote a new romance yesterday; the
words are mine as well as the music. Would you like me to sing it to
you? Madame Bielenitsine thought it very pretty, but her judgment is
not worth much. I want to know your opinion of it. But, after all, I
think I had better sing it by-and-by."
"Why by-and-by?" exclaimed Maria Dmitrievna, "why not now?"
"To hear is to obey," answered Panshine, with a sweet and serene smile,
which came and went quickly; and then, having pushed a chair up to
the piano, he sat down, struck a few chords, and began to sing the
following romance, pronouncing the words very distinctly
Amid pale clouds, above the earth, The moon rides high, And o'er the
sea a magic light Pours from the sky.
My Spirit's waves, as towards the moon, Towards thee, love, flow: Its
waters stirred by thee alone In weal or woe.
My heart replete with love that grieves But yields no cry, I suffer--cold
as yonder moon Thou passest by.
Panshine sang the second stanza with more than usual expression and
feeling; in the stormy accompaniment might be heard the rolling of the
waves. After the words, "I suffer!" he breathed a light sigh, and with
downcast eyes let his voice die gradually away. When he had finished;
Liza praised the air, Maria Dmitrievna said, "Charming!" and
Gedeonovsky exclaimed, "Enchanting!--the words and the music are
equally enchanting!" Lenochka kept her eyes fixed on the singer with
childish reverence. In a word, the composition of the young dilettante
delighted all who were in the room. But outside the drawing-room door,
in the vestibule, there stood, looking on the floor, an old man who had

just come into the house, to whom, judging from the expression of his
face and the movements of his shoulders, Panshine's romance, though
really pretty, did not afford much pleasure. After waiting a little, and
having dusted his boots with a coarse handkerchief, he suddenly
squeezed up his eyes, morosely compressed his lips, gave his already
curved back an extra bend, and slowly entered the drawing-room.
"Ah! Christophor Fedorovich, how do you do?" Panshine was the first
to exclaim, as he jumped up quickly from his chair. "I didn't suspect
you were there. I wouldn't for any thing have ventured to sing my
romance before you. I know you are no admirer of the light style in
music."
"I didn't hear it," said the new-comer, in imperfect Russian. Then,
having bowed to all the party, he stood still in an awkward attitude in
the middle of the room.
"I suppose, Monsieur Lemm," said Maria Dmitrievna, "you have come
to give Liza a music lesson."
"No; not Lizaveta Mikhailovna, but Elena Miknailovna."
"Oh, indeed! very good. Lenochka, go up-stairs with Monsieur Lemm."
The old man was about to follow the little girl, when Panshine stopped
him.
"Don't go away when the lesson is over, Christopher Fedorovich," he
said. "Lizaveta Mikhailovna and I are going to play a duet--one of
Beethoven's sonatas."
The old man muttered something to himself, but Panshine continued in
German, pronouncing the words very badly--
"Lizaveta Mikhailovna has shown me the sacred cantata which you
have dedicated to her--a very beautiful piece! I beg you will not
suppose I am unable to appreciate serious music. Quite the reverse. It is
sometimes tedious; but, on the other hand, it is extremely edifying."

The old man blushed to the ears, cast a side glance at Liza, and went
hastily out of the room.
Maria Dmitrievna asked Panshine to repeat his romance; but he
declared that he did not like to offend the ears of the scientific German,
and proposed to Liza to begin Beethoven's sonata. On this, Maria
Dmitrievna sighed, and, on her part, proposed a stroll in the