On that evening Tatiana Markovna and Raisky concluded, if not peace, at least a truce. She was assured that Boris loved and esteemed her; she was, in truth, easily convinced. After supper Raisky unpacked his trunk, and brought down his gifts; for his aunt, a few pounds of excellent tea, of which she was a connoisseur, a coffee machine of a new kind, with a coffee-pot, and a dark brown silk dress; bracelets with monograms for his cousins; and for Tiet Nikonich vest and hose of Samian leather, as his aunt had desired. Tatiana Markovna, with tears in her eyes, sat down beside him, and putting her hand on his shoulder said, “And you remembered me?” “Whom else should I remember? You are my nearest and dearest, Grandmother.” When Tiet Nikonich and Paulina Karpovna took leave, the lady said that she had left orders with no one to fetch her, and that she hoped someone would accompany her, looking towards Raisky as she spoke. Tiet Nikonich expressed himself ready to see her home. “Egorka could have taken her,” whispered Tatiana Markovna. “Why didn’t she stay at home; she was not invited.” “Thank you, thank you,” said Paulina Karpovna to Raisky as she passed him. “What for?” asked Raisky in amazement. “For the pleasant, witty conversation, although it was not directed to me. What pleasure it gave me!” “A practical conversation about groats, a goose, and a quarrel with Grandmother.” “Ah, I understand,” she continued, “but I caught two glances, which were intended for me, confess they were. I am filled with hope and expectation.” As she went out Raisky asked Marfinka what she was talking about. “She’s always like that,” laughed Marfinka. Tatiana Markovna followed Raisky to his room, smoothed the sheets of his bed once more, drew the curtains so that the sun should not awaken him in the morning, felt the feather bed to test its softness, and had a jug of water placed on the table beside him. She came back three times to see if he were asleep or wanted anything. Touched by so much kindly thought he recognised that his grandmother’s activity was not only exerted to gratify herself. CHAPTER IX The days passed quietly by. Every morning the sun climbed up through the blue air, and lighted up the Volga and its banks. At midday the snowy clouds crept up, often piled one on another until the blue sky was hidden, and the cooling rain fell on woods and fields; then once more the clouds stole away before the approach of the warm, pleasant evening.