She went to her own room. But before she had time to recover her breath from her explanation with Panshin and her mother, another thunderstorm broke over her, and this time from a quarter whence she had least expected it. Marfa Timofeevna entered her room, and immediately slammed the door behind her. The old woman's face was pale, her cap was awry, her eyes were flashing, her hands and lips were trembling. Liza was amazed: never before had she seen her sensible and reasonable aunt in such a state. "Very fine, madam,"--began Marfa Timofeevna, in a tremulous and broken whisper: "very fine indeed! From whom hast thou learned this, my mother?... Give me water; I cannot speak." "Calm yourself, aunty; what is the matter with you?"--said Liza, giving her a glass of water.--"Why, you yourself did not favour Mr. Panshin." Marfa Timofeevna set down the glass. "I cannot drink: I shall knock out my last remaining teeth. What dost thou mean by Panshin? What has Panshin to do with it? Do thou tell me, rather, who taught thee to appoint rendezvous by night--hey? my mother?" Liza turned pale. "Please do not think of excusing thyself,"--continued Marfa Timofeevna.--"Schurotchka herself saw all, and told me. I have forbidden her to chatter, but she does not lie." "I have made no excuses, aunty,"--said Liza, in a barely audible voice. "Ah, ah! Now, see here, my mother; didst thou appoint a meeting with him, with that old sinner, that quiet man?" "No." "Then how did it come about?" "I went down-stairs, to the drawing-room, for a book; he was in the garden, and called me." "And thou wentest? Very fine. And thou lovest him, dost thou not?" "I do,"--replied Liza, in a tranquil voice. "Gracious heavens! she loves him!"--Marfa Timofeevna tore off her cap.--"She loves a married man! Hey? she loves!" "He told me,"--began Liza.... "What did he tell thee, the darling, wha-at was it?" "He told me that his wife was dead." Marfa Timofeevna crossed herself.--"The kingdom of heaven be hers,"--she whispered:--"she was a frivolous woman--God forgive her. So that's how it is: then he's a widower. Yes, I see that he is equal to anything. He killed off his first wife, and now he's after another. Thou art a sly one, art thou not? Only, this is what I have to say to thee, niece: in my time, when I was young, girls were severely punished for such capers. Thou must not be angry with me, my mother; only fools get angry at the truth. I have given orders that he is not to be admitted to-day. I am fond of him, but I shall never forgive him for this. A widower, forsooth! Give me some water.... But thou art my brave girl, for sending Panshin off with a long face; only, do not sit out nights with that goat's breed,--with men,--do not grieve me, an old woman! For I am not always amiable--I know how to bite, also!... A widower!"