“Listen, Lisa, darling, what I am going to say to you,” Marfa Timofyevna said suddenly, making Lisa sit beside her, and straightening her hair and her neckerchief. “It seems to you now in the midst of the worst of it that nothing can ever heal your sorrow. Ah, my darling, the only thing that can’t be cured is death. You only say to yourself now: ‘I won’t give in to it--so there!’ and you will be surprised yourself how soon, how easily it will pass off. Only have patience.” “Auntie,” returned Lisa, “it has passed off already, it is all over.” “Passed! how has it passed? Why, your poor little nose has grown sharp already and you say it is over. A fine way of getting over it!” “Yes, it is over, auntie, if you will only try to help me,” Lisa declared with sudden animation, and she flung herself on Marfa Timofyevna’s neck. “Dear auntie, be a friend to me, help me, don’t be angry, understand me”... “Why, what is it, what is it, my good girl? Don’t terrify me, please; I shall scream directly; don’t look at me like that; tell me quickly, what is it?” “I--I want,” Lisa hid her face on Marfa Timofyevna’s bosom, “I want to go into a convent,” she articulated faintly. The old lady almost bounded off the bed. “Cross yourself, my girl, Lisa, dear, think what you are saying; what are you thinking of? God have mercy on you!” she stammered at last. “Lie down, my darling, sleep a little, all this comes from sleeplessness, my dearie.” Lisa raised her head, her cheeks were glowing. “No, auntie,” she said, “don’t speak like that; I have made up my mind, I prayed, I asked counsel of God; all is at an end, my life with you is at an end. Such a lesson was not for nothing; and it is not the first time that I have thought of it. Happiness was not for me; even when I had hopes of happiness, my heart was always heavy. I knew all my own sins and those of others, and how papa made our fortune; I know it all. For all that there must be expiation. I am sorry for you, sorry for mamma, for Lenotchka; but there is no help; I feel that there is no living here for me; I have taken leave of all, I have greeted everything in the house for the last time; something calls to me; I am sick at heart, I want to hide myself away for ever. Do not hinder me, do not dissuade me, help me, or else I must go away alone.” Marfa Timofyevna listened to her niece with horror.