ardoned him, after giving him a pretty severe scolding, and a tap
with his stick by way of intimidating him, but Ivan Petrovitch went on
living abroad and apparently did not care a straw. "Be silent! I dare
you to speak of it," Piotr Andreitch said to his wife every time she
ventured to try to incline him to mercy. "The puppy, he ought to thank
God for ever that I have not laid my curse upon him; my father would
have killed him, the worthless scamp, with his own hands, and he would
have done right too." At such terrible speeches Anna Pavlovna could only
cross herself secretly. As for Ivan Petrovitch's wife, Piotr Andreitch
at first would not even hear her name, and in answer to a letter of
Pestov's, in which he mentioned his daughter-in-law, he went so far as
to send him word that he knew nothing of any daughter-in-law, and that
it was forbidden by law to harbour run-away wenches, a fact which he
thought it his duty to remind him of. But later on, he was softened by
hearing of the birth of a grandson, and he gave orders secretly that
inquiries should be made about the health of the mother, and sent her a
little money, also as though it did not come from him. Fedya was not
a year old before Anna Pavlovna fell ill with a fatal complaint. A few
days before her end, when she could no longer leave her bed, with timid
tears in her eyes, fast growing dim, she informed her husband in the
presence of the priest that she wanted to see her daughter-in-law
and bid her farewell, and to give her grand-child her blessing. The
heart-broken old man soothed her, and at once sent off his own carriage
for his daughter-in-law, for the first time giving her the title of
Malanya Sergyevna. Malanya came with her son and Marfa Timofyevna, who
would not on any consideration allow her to go alone, and was unwilling
to expose her to any indignity. Half dead with fright, Malanya Sergyevna
went into Piotr Andreitch's room. A nurse followed, carrying Fedya.
Piotr Andreitch looked at her without speaking; she went up to kiss his
hand; her trembling lips were only just able to touch it with a silent
kiss.

"Well, my upstart lady," he brought out at last, "how do you do? let us
go to the mistress."

He got up and bent over Fedya: the baby smiled and held out his little
white hands to him. This changed the old man's mood.

"Ah," he said, "poor little one, you were pleading for your father; I
will not abandon you, little bird."

Directly Malanya Sergy