The door creaked... the handkerchief slid on to Lisa’s lap. Lavretsky snatched it before it had time to fall to the floor, thrust it quickly into a side pocket, and turning round met Marfa Timofyevna’s eyes. “Lisa, darling, I fancy your mother is calling you,” the old lady declared. Lisa at once got up and went away. Marfa Timofyevna sat down again in her corner. Lavretsky began to take leave of her. “Fedor,” she said suddenly. “What is it?” “Are you an honest man?” “What?” “I ask you, are you an honest man?” “I hope so.” “H’m. But give me your word of honour that you will be an honest man.” “Certainly. But why?” “I know why. And you too, my dear friend, if you think well, you’re no fool--will understand why I ask it of you. And now, good-bye, my dear. Thanks for your visit; and remember you have given your word, Fedya, and kiss me. Oh, my dear, it’s hard for you, I know; but there, it’s not easy for any one. Once I used to envy the flies; I thought it’s for them it’s good to be alive but one night I heard a fly complaining in a spider’s web--no, I think, they too have their troubles. There’s no help, Fedya; but remember your promise all the same. Good-bye.” Lavretsky went down the back staircase, and had reached the gates when a man-servant overtook him. “Marya Dmitrievna told me to ask you to go in to her,” he commenced to Lavretsky. “Tell her, my boy, that just now I can’t--” Fedor Ivanitch was beginning. “Her excellency told me to ask you very particularly,” continued the servant. “She gave orders to say she was at home.” “Have the visitors gone?” asked Lavretsky. “Certainly, sir,” replied the servant with a grin. Lavretsky shrugged his shoulders and followed him. Chapter XLIII Marya Dmitrievna was sitting alone in her boudoir in an easy-chair, sniffing eau de cologne; a glass of orange-flower-water was standing on a little table near her. She was agitated and seemed nervous. Lavretsky came in. “You wanted to see me,” he said, bowing coldly. “Yes,” replied Marya Dmitrievna, and she sipped a little water: “I heard that you had gone straight up to my aunt; I gave orders that you should be asked to come in; I wanted to have a little talk with you. Sit down, please,” Marya Dmitrievna took breath. “You know,” she went on, “your wife has come.” “I was aware of that,” remarked Lavretsky. “Well, then, that is, I wanted to say, she came to me, and I received her; that is what I wanted to explain to you, Fedor Ivanitch. Thank God I have, I may say, gained universal respect, and for no consideration in the world would I do anything improper. Though I foresaw that it would be disagreeable to you, still I could not make up my mind to deny myself to her, Fedor Ivanitch; she is a relation of mine--through you; put yourself in my position, what right had I to shut my doors on her--you will agree with me?”