“Yes,” she whispered. “I honour the memory of the departed, but hers is the fault. She kept you by her side, talked to you, played the piano, read out of books and wept as she did so. And this is the result. Singing and painting. Now tell me, Borushka,” she went on in her ordinary tone, “what is to become of the house, of the linen, the silver, the diamonds? Shall you order them to be given to the peasants?” “Do I possess diamonds and silver?” “How often have I told you so? From your mother you have inherited all these things; what is to be done with them. I will show you the inventory of them.” “Don’t do that, for Heaven’s sake. I can believe they are mine. And so I can dispose of them as I please?” “Of course; you are the proprietor. We live here as your guests, though we do not eat your bread. See here are my receipts and expenditure,” she said, thrusting towards another big ledger which he waved away. “But I believe all you say, Granny,” he said. “Send for a clerk and tell him to make out a deed, by which I give the house, the land, and all that belongs to it to my dear cousins, Veroshka and Marfinka, as dowry.” The old lady wrinkled her brow, and waited impatiently till he should finish speaking. “So long as you live, dear Granny,” he continued, “the estate naturally remains under your control; the peasants must have their freedom....” “Never,” interrupted his aunt, “Veroshka and Marfinka are not beggars--each of them has her fifty thousand roubles--and after my death three times that sum, perhaps more. All I have is for my little girls, and, thank God, I am not a pauper. I have a corner of my own, a bit of land, and a roof to cover them. One would think you were a millionaire. You make gifts; you will have this, and you won’t have that. Here, Marfinka! where have you hidden yourself?” “Directly!” cried Marfinka’s clear voice from a neighbouring room. Happy, gay, smiling and frank, she fluttered into the room, looked hesitatingly, first at Raisky, then at her aunt, who was nearly beside herself. “Your cousin, Marfinka, is pleased to present you with a house, silver, and lace. You are, he thinks, a beggared, dowerless girl. Make a curtsey, thank your benefactor, kiss his hand--Well?” Marfinka, who did not know what to say, squeezed herself flat against the stove and looked at her two relatives. Her aunt pushed papers and books on one side, crossed her hands over her breast, and looked out of the window, while Raisky sat down beside Marfinka, and took her hand. “Would you like to go away from here, Marfinka, into a strange house, perhaps in an altogether different district?” “God forbid! How could such a thing happen. Who ever imagined such nonsense?” “Granny,” laughed Raisky. Happily “Granny” had not heard the words. Marfinka was embarrassed, and looked out of the window. “Here I have everything I want, the lovely flowers in the garden, the birds. Who would look after the birds? I will never go away from here, never!”