After his departure Basil had a long talk with his godmother, who urged him to go back to his family, for she was the most unselfish of women; but Basil could not make up his mind to leave her until she had at least regained some semblance of strength. It was then that Tatiana’s message concerning the late events at Tverna arrived. She had softened the facts, and put as little responsibility upon Laurence as was compatible with truth; but Basil, nevertheless, saw clearly that his immediate return was imperative, and, avoiding to alarm his kinswoman by a detailed account of the affair, spoke of trouble with the peasants, and after arranging everything for her comparative comfort and ease of mind left her with much regret. He had to spend some hours in Petersburg on his way home, and preferring his club to his unprepared palace on the Nèwsky, all swathed in silence, cold, and brown holland, he repaired thither on leaving the train. It had been quite a time since he had been there, and he was received with genuine enthusiasm by his numerous friends, who talked at once of killing the fatted calf for his benefit. In consequence, he dined that night with half a dozen men who had been his comrades when he was in the _Gardes-à-Cheval_, and in spite of his peculiarly unjoyful mood he became, as the feast progressed, much more cheerful than he had been for weeks. “Where can one be better than in the bosom of one’s patriotic family?” laughed Count Mourièff, throwing himself back in his chair as the coffee was brought, and blowing volumes of cigar-smoke toward the heavily gilded ceiling. The salon in which the dinner had taken place gave excellent testimony to the _entrain_ of the occasion. In the corners of the big room huge Chinese urns were crowned with pyrotechnic bouquets of long-stemmed flowers; along the table windrows of rare fruits and gaily caparisoned bonbons demonstrated once more that in the very deeps of his nature the Russian is always more or less of a child, over-fond of sweets and pretty baubles--blossoms and luxuries of all sorts! “You don’t miss your patriotic family, Palitzin, you lucky beggar!” cried Captain Zàptine, one of Basil’s most intimate friends. “You are too well provided otherwise! Gentlemen,” he continued, turning to the others, “this long-legged animal here before you has discovered the secret of eternal youth and happiness. Let us envy him with all our hearts. Do you remember how he left us one fine evening at the camp of Krasnöe-Sèloe during the fateful season of nesting and of love--left us, the wretch, without a word of warning concerning his roseate and orange-budded plans?”