“I won’t; I won’t!” cried the child hurriedly, clasping her hands before her entreatingly. “Come! things can’t be allowed to go on in this way!” said Velchaninoff impatiently, and with authority. “In the first place, you are a man of property; how can you possibly live in a hole like this, and in such disorder?” “This place! Oh, but we shall probably have left this place within a week; and I’ve spent a lot of money here, as it is, though I may be ’a man of property;’ and——” “Very well, that’ll do,” interrupted Velchaninoff with growing impatience, “now, I’ll make you a proposition: you have just said that you intend to stay another week—perhaps two. I have a house here—or rather I know a family where I am as much at home as at my own fireside, and have been so for twenty years. The family I mean is the Pogoryeltseffs—Alexander Pavlovitch Pogoryeltseff is a state councillor (he may be of use to you in your business!) They are now living in the country—they have a beautiful country villa; Claudia Petrovna, the lady of the house, is like a sister—like a mother to me; they have eight children. Let me take Liza down to them without loss of time! they’ll receive her with joy, and they’ll treat her like their own little daughter—they will, indeed!” Velchaninoff was in a great hurry, and much excited, and he did not conceal his feelings. “I’m afraid it’s impossible!” said Pavel Pavlovitch with a grimace, looking straight into his visitor’s eyes, very cunningly, as it seemed to Velchaninoff. “Why! why, impossible?” “Oh, why! to let the child go—so suddenly, you know, of course with such a sincere well-wisher as yourself—it’s not that!—but a strange house—and such swells, too!—I don’t know whether they would receive her!” “But I tell you I’m like a son of the house!” cried Velchaninoff, almost angrily. “Claudia Petrovna will be delighted to take her, at one word from me! She’d receive her as though she were my own daughter. Deuce take it, sir, you know you are only humbugging me,—what’s the use of talking about it?” He stamped his foot. “No—no! I mean to say—don’t it look a little strange? Oughtn’t I to call once or twice first?—such a smart house as you say theirs is—don’t you see——” “I tell you it’s the simplest house in the world; it isn’t ‘smart’ in the least bit,” cried Velchaninoff; “they have a lot of children: it will make another girl of her!—I’ll introduce you there myself, to-morrow, if you like. Of course you’ll have to go and thank them, and all that. You shall go down every day with me, if you please.” “Oh, but——” “Nonsense! You know it’s nonsense! Now look here: you come to me this evening—I’ll put you up for the night—and we’ll start off early to-morrow and be down there by twelve.” “Benefactor!—and I may spend the night at your house?” cried Pavel Pavlovitch, instantly consenting to the plan with the greatest cordiality,—“you are really _too_ good! And where’s their country house?” “At the Liesnoy.”