ht here, and told me to come here too, a quarter
of an hour later...."

"But who? Who told you to come here?" Varvara Petrovna inquired.

"Why, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch! Surely this isn't the first you've heard
of it! But his luggage must have been here a long while, anyway. How
is it you weren't told? Then I'm the first to bring the news. One might
send out to look for him; he's sure to be here himself directly
though. And I fancy, at the moment that just fits in with some of
his expectations, and is far as I can judge, at least, some of his
calculations."

At this point he turned his eyes about the room and fixed them with
special attention on the captain.

"Ach, Lizaveta Nikolaevna, how glad I am to meet you at the very first
step, delighted to shake hands with you." He flew up to Liza, who
was smiling gaily, to take her proffered hand, "and I observe that my
honoured friend Praskovya Ivanovna has not forgotten her 'professor,'
and actually isn't cross with him, as she always used to be in
Switzerland. But how are your legs, here, Praskovya Ivanovna, and were
the Swiss doctors right when at the consultation they prescribed your
native air? What? Fomentations? That ought to do good. But how sorry I
was, Varvara Petrovna" (he turned rapidly to her) "that I didn't arrive
in time to meet you abroad, and offer my respects to you in person; I
had so much to tell you too. I did send word to my old man here, but I
fancy that he did as he always does..."

"Petrusha!" cried Stepan Trofimovitch, instantly roused from his
stupefaction. He clasped his hands and flew to his son. "_Pierre, mon
enfant!_ Why, I didn't know you!" He pressed him in his arms and the
tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Come, be quiet, be quiet, no flourishes, that's enough, that's enough,
please," Petrusha muttered hurriedly, trying to extricate himself from
his embrace.

"I've always sinned against you, always!"

"Well, that's enough. We can talk of that later. I knew you'd carry on.
Come, be a little more sober, please."

"But it's ten years since I've seen you."

"The less reason for demonstrations."

_"Mon enfant!..."_

"Come, I believe in your affection, I believe in it, take your arms
away. You see, you're disturbing other people.... Ah, here's Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch; keep quiet, please."

Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch was already in the room; he came in very quietly
and stood still for an instant in the doorway, quietly scrutinising the
co