"The husband is always to blame, madam, I venture to assure you, when the wife behaves badly." "Thou sayest that, my good sir, because thou hast never been married thyself." Gedeonovsky smiled in a constrained way. "Permit me to inquire," he asked, after a brief pause,--"for whom is that very pretty scarf destined?" Marfa Timofeevna cast a swift glance at him. "It is destined"--she retorted,--"for the man who never gossips, nor uses craft, nor lies, if such a man exists in the world. I know Fedya well; his sole fault is, that he was too indulgent to his wife. Well, he married for love, and nothing good ever comes of those love-marriages,"--added the old woman, casting a sidelong glance at Marya Dmitrievna, and rising.--"And now, dear little father, thou mayest whet thy teeth on whomsoever thou wilt, only not on me; I'm going away, I won't interfere."--And Marfa Timofeevna withdrew. "There, she is always like that,"--said Marya Dmitrievna, following her aunt with her eyes:--"Always!" "It's her age! There's no help for it, ma'am!" remarked Gedeonovsky.--"There now, she permitted herself to say: 'the man who does not use craft.' But who doesn't use craft nowadays? it's the spirit of the age. One of my friends, a very estimable person, and, I must tell you, a man of no mean rank, was wont to say: that 'nowadays, a hen approaches a grain of corn craftily--she keeps watching her chance to get to it from one side.' But when I look at you, my lady, you have a truly angelic disposition; please to favour me with your snow-white little hand." Marya Dmitrievna smiled faintly, and extended her plump hand, with the little finger standing out apart, to Gedeonovsky. He applied his lips to it, and she moved her arm-chair closer to him, and bending slightly toward him, she asked in a low tone: "So, you have seen him? Is he really--all right, well, cheerful?" "He is cheerful, ma'am; all right, ma'am," returned Gedeonovsky, in a whisper. "And you have not heard where his wife is now?" "She has recently been in Paris, ma'am; now, I hear, she has removed to the kingdom of Italy." "It is dreadful, really,--Fedya's position; I do not know how he can endure it. Accidents do happen, with every one, in fact; but he, one may say, has been advertised all over Europe." Gedeonovsky sighed. "Yes, ma'am; yes, ma'am. Why, she, they say, has struck up acquaintance with artists, and pianists, and, as they call it in their fashion, with lions and wild beasts. She has lost her shame, completely...." "It is very, very sad,"--said Marya Dmitrievna:--"on account of the relationship; for you know, Sergyei Petrovitch, he's my nephew, once removed." "Of course, ma'am; of course, ma'am. How could I fail to be aware of everything which relates to your family? Upon my word, ma'am!" "Will he come to see us,--what do you think?" "We must assume that he will, ma'am; but I hear, that he is going to his country estate." Marya Dmitrievna cast her eyes heavenward.