at; why shouldst thou
have remembered me? Only, thou art a sensible fellow, to have come. Well,
my mother,"--she added, addressing Marya Dmitrievna,--"hast thou given
him any refreshments?"

"I want nothing,"--said Lavretzky, hastily.

"Come, drink some tea, at least, my dear little father. O Lord my God! He
has come, no one knows whence, and they don't give him a cup of tea! Go,
Liza, and see about it, as quickly as possible. I remember that, as a
little fellow, he was a dreadful glutton, and he must be fond of eating
even now."

"My respects, Marfa Timofeevna,"--said Panshin, approaching the angry
old woman from one side, and bowing low.

"Excuse me, sir,"--retorted Marfa Timofeevna,--"I did not notice you
for joy.--Thou hast grown to resemble thy mother, the darling,"--she went
on, turning again to Lavretzky:--"only, thy nose was and remains like
thy father's. Well--and art thou to be long with us?"

"I am going away to-morrow, aunty."

"Whither?"

"Home, to Vasilievskoe."

"To-morrow?"

"Yes."

"Well, if it must be to-morrow, it must. God be with thee,--thou knowest
best. Only, see here, thou must come to say farewell."--The old woman
tapped him on the cheek.--"I did not think I should live to see thee; and
that not because I was preparing to die; no--I am good for another ten
years, probably: all we Pestoffs are tenacious of life; thy deceased
grandfather used to call us double-lived; but the Lord only knew how much
longer thou wouldst ramble about abroad. Well, but thou art a dashing
fine fellow, a fine fellow; thou canst still lift ten puds in one hand as
of yore, I suppose? Thy deceased father, excuse me, was cranky in some
respects, but he did well when he hired a Swiss for thee; thou
rememberest, how thou and he had fistfights; that's called gymnastics,
isn't it?--But why have I been cackling thus? I have only been keeping
Mr. Panshin" (she never called him Panshin, as she ought) "from
arguing. But we had better drink tea; let us go and drink it on the
terrace, my dear; our cream--is not like what you get in your Londons and
Parises. Let us go, let us go, and do thou, Fediusha, give me thy arm.
O! how thick it is! There's no danger of falling with thee."

All rose and betook themselves to the terrace, with the exception of
Gedeonovsky, who quietly departed. During the entire duration of
Lavretzky's conversation with the mistress of the house, Panshin, and
Marfa Timofeevna, he had sat in a corner