“Didn’t you see the goose?” she asked the little girl in a loud clear voice. “No,” answered the child, “it is the cat’s fault. Afimua says it will die.” “I shall look after it myself. Afimua has no pity.” Motionless, Raisky watched the scene without his presence being suspected. This must be his cousin, and how charming! But which one, Veroshka or Marfinka? Without waiting for the _kibitka_ to turn in through the gate, he ran forward, and stood before the young girl. “Cousin,” he cried, extending his arms. In a moment both girls had vanished as if by magic, the sparrows were away on the roof, and the pigeons in flight. The servants in the yard stopped their work. Raisky looked in amazement on the emptiness and at the corn scattered at his feet. Then he heard in the house bustle, murmurs, movement, the clatter of keys, and his aunt’s voice, “Where is he?” Her face lighted up when she saw Raisky and she opened her arms, to press him to her breast. She had aged, but in so even, so healthy a fashion, that there were no unwholesome patches, no deep hanging pockets about the eyes and mouth, no sadness or gloom in her eyes. Life had not conquered her; she conquered life, and only slowly laid down her weapons in the combat. Her voice was not so clear as of old, and she leaned on a stick, but she made no complaint. She still wore no cap on her short hair. Health and kindliness shone from her eyes, and not only from her eyes, from her whole figure. “Borushka, my friend!” Three times she embraced him. Tears stood in her eyes. In her embrace, her voice, in the sudden grip of joy, there was tenderness, affection, and ardour. He felt that he was almost a criminal, that he had been playing with his emotions and seeking forbidden fruit, wandering homelessly in the world, while Nature himself had been preparing for him a nest where sympathy and happiness awaited him. “Marfinka, where are you, come here,” cried her grandmother. “She was so terrified when she saw you, and terrified me too. Let me look at you, Borushka.” She led him to the light and looked at him long and earnestly. “How ill you look,” she said. “But no, you are sunburnt. The moustache suits you, why do you grow a beard? Shave it off, Borushka, I can’t endure it. Ah! grey hairs here and there already. You are beginning to age too soon.” “It’s not with age, Granny.” “Why then? Are you in good health?” “I’m well enough. Let us talk of something else. You, thank God, are always the same.” “What do you mean?” “You don’t alter a bit, are still as beautiful as ever. I never saw an old lady whose age adorned her so.” “Thanks for the compliment, my child. It would be better for you to spend your admiration on your sisters. I will whisper the truth to you. Two such beauties you will not find in the town, especially the other....” “Where is my other sister?”