him; and just then Lvof's colleague, Makhotin, in his court-uniform, came into the room, and began a lively conversation about Herzegovina, the Princess Korzinsky, and the premature death of Madame Apraksin.
Levin forgot all about Kitty's message. He remembered it just as they reached the vestibule.
"Oh! Kitty commissioned me to speak with you about Oblonsky," said he, as Lvof went with them to the head of the staircase.
"Yes, yes! maman wants us, les beaux-frères, to attack him," said Lvof, turning red. "But how can I?"
"Then I'll undertake it," said the smiling Madame Lvof, who, wrapped in her white dogskin rotonda, was waiting till they should finish talking.
CHAPTER V
Two very interesting pieces were to be given at the matinee. One was a fantasia or symphonic poem called "The King Lear of the Steppes," the other was a quartette dedicated to the memory of Bach. Both pieces were new and of the new school, and Levin desired to form his own opinion in regard to them. So, after he had conducted his sister-in-law to her place, he took his stand near a column, and determined to listen as attentively and conscientiously as possible. He tried not to allow his attention to be distracted and his impressions spoiled by letting his eyes follow the white-cravatted kapellmeister's waving arms, which are always so disturbing to the musical attention, or by looking at the ladies in their hats, who for concerts take especial pains to tie ribbons round their ears, or at all those faces either occupied with nothing, or occupied with the most heterogeneous interests, music being the last. He tried to avoid meeting the connoisseurs and the chatterers, but he stood alone by himself, looking down and listening.
But the more he listened to the "King Lear" fantasia, the more he felt the impossibility of forming a clear and
