Liza gazed thoughtfully at her aunt. "What a word you have uttered!"--she whispered. "What sort of a word, what word?"--interposed the old woman, vivaciously;--"what dost thou mean?--This is dreadful,"--she said, suddenly tearing off her cap, and seating herself on Liza's bed:--"this is beyond my strength! today is the fourth day that I seem to be seething in a kettle; I can no longer pretend that I notice nothing,--I cannot see thee growing pale, withering away, weeping,--I cannot, I cannot!" "Why, what is the matter with you, aunty?"--said Liza:--"I am all right...." "All right?"--exclaimed Marfa Timofeevna:--"tell that to others, but not to me! All right! But who was it that was on her knees just now? whose eyelashes are still wet with tears? All right! Why, look at thyself, what hast thou done to thy face, what has become of thine eyes?--All right! As though I did not know all!" "It will pass off, aunty; give me time." "It will pass off, but when? O Lord God, my Master! is it possible that thou didst love him so? why, he is an old man, Lizotchka. Well, I do not dispute that he is a good man, he does not bite; but what does that signify? we are all good people: the world is large, there will always be plenty of that sort." "I tell you, that it will all pass off, it is all over already." "Listen, Lizotchka, to what I have to say to thee,"--said Marfa Timofeevna, suddenly, making Liza sit down beside her on the bed, and adjusting now her hair, now her kerchief.--"It only seems to you, while it is fresh, that your grief is beyond remedy. Ekh, my darling, for death alone there is no remedy! Only say to thyself: 'I won't give in--so there now!' and afterward thou wilt be amazed thyself--how soon, how well, it will pass off. Only have patience." "Aunty,"--replied Liza:--"it is already past, all is over already." "Past--over--forsooth! Why, even thy little nose has grown pointed, and thou sayest: 'It is over--it is over!'" "Yes, it is over, aunty, if you will only help me,"--cried Liza, with sudden animation, and threw herself on Marfa Timofeevna's neck.--"Dear aunty, be my friend, help me; do not be angry, understand me." "Why, what is this, what is this, my mother? Don't frighten me, please; I shall scream in another minute; don't look at me like that: tell me quickly what thou meanest?" "I ... I want ..." Liza hid her face in Marfa Timofeevna's bosom.... "I want to enter a convent,"--she said, in a dull tone. The old woman fairly leaped on the bed. "Cross thyself, my mother, Lizotchka; come to thy senses: God be with thee, what dost thou mean?"--she stammered at last: "lie down, my darling, sleep a little: this comes from lack of sleep, my dear." Liza raised her head, her cheeks were burning.