"Just look at me," he continued. "As a brother I am torn with grief. More than once I have shed tears. I am sorry for brother, sorry as can be. I weep. Then I bethink myself: 'And what is God for? Is it possible that God knows less than we what ought to be?' This thought inspires me with courage. That is how you all should act, you, mother dear, and you, little nieces, and--" he turned to the servants--"you all." "Look at me, how well I bear up." And in the same charming manner he proceeded to impersonate a man who bears up. He straightened his body, put one foot forward, expanded his chest, and threw back his head. The audience smiled sourly. This performance over, Yudushka passed into the drawing-room and kissed his mother's hand again. "Well, so that's how things are, mother dear," he said, seating himself on the couch. "So brother Pavel, too." "Yes, Pavel, too," softly answered Arina Petrovna. "Yes, yes--a little too early. Although I play the brave, in my soul I, too, suffer and grieve for my poor brother. He hated me--hated me bitterly. Maybe that is why God is punishing him." "You might forget about it at such a moment. You must set old grudges aside." "I have forgotten it all long ago. I only mentioned it in passing. My brother disliked me, for what reason, I know not. I tried one way and another, directly and indirectly. I called him 'dear' and 'kind brother,' but he drew back and that was the end of it." "I asked you please not to bring all that up. The man is lying at the point of death." "Yes, mother dear, death is a great mystery. 'For ye know neither the day nor the hour.' That's the kind of mystery it is. There he was making plans, thinking he was exalted so high, so high as to be beyond mortal reach. But in one instant with one blow God undid all his dreams. Perhaps he would be glad now to cover up his sins. But they are already recorded in the Book of Life. And whatever is written in that book, mother dear, won't be scraped off in a hurry." "But does not the Lord accept the sinner's repentance?" "That's just what I wish for him from the bottom of my heart. I know he hated me, still I wish him forgiveness. I wish the best for everybody--for those that hate me, those that insult me--everybody. He was unfair to me and now God sends him an ailment--not I, but God. Does he suffer much, mother dear?" "Well, not very much. The doctor was here and even gave us hopes." So lied Arina Petrovna. "What splendid news! Don't you worry, dear mother, he'll pull through yet. Here we are eating our hearts away and grumbling at the Creator, and perhaps he is sitting quietly on his bed thanking the Lord for his recovery." The idea delighted Yudushka so immensely that he even giggled softly to himself.