up, and make haste. I remember he was
dreadfully greedy when he was a little fellow, and he likes good things
now, I daresay."

"My respects, Marfa Timofyevna," said Panshin, approaching the delighted
old lady from one side with a low bow.

"Pardon me, sir," replied Marfa Timofyevna, "for not observing you in my
delight. You have grown like your mother, the poor darling," she went on
turning again to Lavretsky, "but your nose was always your father's, and
your father's it has remained. Well, and are you going to be with us for
long?"

"I am going to-morrow, aunt."

"Where?"

"Home to Vassilyevskoe."

"To-morrow?"

"Yes, to-morrow."

"Well, if to-morrow it must be. God bless you--you know best. Only mind
you come and say good-bye to me." The old woman patted his cheek. "I did
not think I should be here to see you; not that I have made up my mind
to die yet a while--I shall last another ten years, I daresay: all we
Pestovs live long; your late grandfather used to say we had two lives;
but you see there was no telling how much longer you were going to
dangle about abroad. Well, you're a fine lad, a fine lad; can you lift
twenty stone with one hand as you used to do, eh? Your late pap was
fantastical in some things, if I may say so; but he did well in having
that Swiss to bring you up; do you remember you used to fight with your
fists with him?--gymnastics, wasn't it they called it? But there, why I
am gabbling away like this; I have only been hindering Mr. PanSHIN (she
never pronounced his name PANshin as was correct) from holding forth.
Besides, we'd better go and have tea; yes, let's go on to the terrace,
my boy, and drink it there; we have some real cream, not like what
you get in your Londons and Parises. Come along, come along, and you,
Fedusha, give me your arm. Oh! but what an arm it is! Upon my word, no
fear of my stumbling with you!"

Every one got up and went out on to the terrace, except Gedeonovsky, who
quietly took his departure. During the whole of Lavretsky's conversation
with Marya Dmitrievna, Panshin, and Marfa Timofyevna, he sat in a
corner, blinking attentively, with an open mouth of childish curiosity;
now he was in haste to spread the news of the new arrival through the
town.

At eleven o'clock on the evening of the same day, this is what was
happening in Madame Kalitin's house. Downstairs, Vladimir Nikolaitch,
seizing a favourable moment, was taking leave of Lisa at the
drawing-room do