No sooner had he arrived in that town and engaged a room at the hotel, than he dashed off in search of the widow Milovidoff's house. During the whole course of his journey he had been in a sort of stupor, which, nevertheless, did not in the least prevent his taking all proper measures,--transferring himself at Nizhni Novgorod from the railway to the steamer, eating at the stations, and so forth. As before, he was convinced that everything would be cleared up _there_, and accordingly he banished from his thoughts all memories and speculations, contenting himself with one thing,--the mental preparation of the speech in which he was to set forth to Clara Militch's family the real reason of his trip.--And now, at last, he had attained to the goal of his yearning, and ordered the servant to announce him. He was admitted--with surprise and alarm--but he was admitted. The widow Milovidoff's house proved to be in fact just as Kupfer had described it; and the widow herself really did resemble one of Ostrovsky's women of the merchant class, although she was of official rank; her husband had been a Collegiate Assessor.[64] Not without some difficulty did Aratoff, after having preliminarily excused himself for his boldness, and the strangeness of his visit, make the speech which he had prepared, to the effect that he wished to collect all the necessary information concerning the gifted actress who had perished at such an early age; that he was actuated not by idle curiosity, but by a profound sympathy for her talent, of which he was a worshipper (he said exactly that--"a worshipper"); that, in conclusion, it would be a sin to leave the public in ignorance of the loss it had sustained,--and why its hopes had not been realized! Madame Milovidoff did not interrupt Aratoff; it is hardly probable that she understood very clearly what this strange visitor was saying to her, and she merely swelled a little with pride, and opened her eyes widely at him on perceiving that he had a peaceable aspect, and was decently clad, and was not some sort of swindler ... and was not asking for any money. "Are you saying that about Katya?" she asked, as soon as Aratoff ceased speaking. "Exactly so ... about your daughter." "And you have come from Moscow for that purpose?" "Yes, from Moscow." "Merely for that?" "Merely for that." Madame Milovidoff suddenly took fright.--"Why, you--are an author? Do you write in the newspapers?" "No, I am not an author,--and up to the present time, I have never written for the newspapers." The widow bent her head. She was perplexed. "Consequently ... it is for your own pleasure?" she suddenly inquired. Aratoff did not immediately hit upon the proper answer. "Out of sympathy, out of reverence for talent," he said at last.