“Good God, it is Fedya!” came through the half-opened door the voice of Marfa Timofyevna in the next room. “Fedya himself!” and the old woman ran hurriedly into the room. Lavretsky had not time to get up from his seat before she had him in her arms. “Let me have a look at you,” she said, holding his face off at arm’s length. “Ah! what a splendid fellow you are! You’ve grown older a little, but not a bit changed for the worse, upon my word! But why are you kissing my hands--kiss my face if you’re not afraid of my wrinkled cheeks. You never asked after me--whether your aunt was alive--I warrant: and you were in my arms as soon as you were born, you great rascal! Well, that is nothing to you, I suppose; why should you remember me? But it was a good idea of yours to come back. And pray,” she added, turning to Marya Dmitrievna, “have you offered him something to eat?” “I don’t want anything,” Lavretsky hastened to declare. “Come, you must at least have some tea, my dear. Lord have mercy on us! He has come from I don’t know where, and they don’t even give him a cup of tea! Lisa, run and stir them up, and make haste. I remember he was dreadfully greedy when he was a little fellow, and he likes good things now, I daresay.” “My respects, Marfa Timofyevna,” said Panshin, approaching the delighted old lady from one side with a low bow. “Pardon me, sir,” replied Marfa Timofyevna, “for not observing you in my delight. You have grown like your mother, the poor darling,” she went on turning again to Lavretsky, “but your nose was always your father’s, and your father’s it has remained. Well, and are you going to be with us for long?” “I am going to-morrow, aunt.” “Where?” “Home to Vassilyevskoe.” “To-morrow?” “Yes, to-morrow.” “Well, if to-morrow it must be. God bless you--you know best. Only mind you come and say good-bye to me.” The old woman patted his cheek. “I did not think I should be here to see you; not that I have made up my mind to die yet a while--I shall last another ten years, I daresay: all we Pestovs live long; your late grandfather used to say we had two lives; but you see there was no telling how much longer you were going to dangle about abroad. Well, you’re a fine lad, a fine lad; can you lift twenty stone with one hand as you used to do, eh? Your late pap was fantastical in some things, if I may say so; but he did well in having that Swiss to bring you up; do you remember you used to fight with your fists with him?--gymnastics, wasn’t it they called it? But there, why I am gabbling away like this; I have only been hindering Mr. PanSHIN (she never pronounced his name PANshin as was correct) from holding forth. Besides, we’d better go and have tea; yes, let’s go on to the terrace, my boy, and drink it there; we have some real cream, not like what you get in your Londons and Parises. Come along, come along, and you, Fedusha, give me your arm. Oh! but what an arm it is! Upon my word, no fear of my stumbling with you!”