“Yes; I don’t deny, Zina, that I did wish, then, to see you married to Mosgliakoff! It was painful to me to witness your continual grief, your sufferings, which I can well realize—whatever you may think to the contrary!—and which deprived me of my rest at night! I determined at last that there was but one great change of life that would ever save you from the sorrows of the past, and that change was matrimony! We are not rich; we cannot afford to go abroad. All the asses in the place prick their long ears, and wonder that you should be unmarried at twenty-three years old; and they must needs invent all sorts of stories to account for the fact! As if I would marry you to one of our wretched little town councillors, or to Ivan Ivanovitch, the family lawyer! There are no husbands for _you_ in this place, Zina! Of course Paul Mosgliakoff is a silly sort of a fellow, but he is better than these people here: he is fairly born, at least, and he has 150 serfs and landed property, all of which is better than living by bribes and corruption, and goodness knows what jobbery besides, as these do! and that is why I allowed my eyes to rest on him. But I give you my solemn word, I never had any real sympathy for him! and if Providence has sent you someone better now, oh, my dear girl, how fortunate that you have not given your word to Mosgliakoff! You didn’t tell him anything for certain to-day, did you, Zina?” “What is the use of beating about the bush, when the whole thing lies in a couple of words?” said Zina, with some show of annoyance. “Beating about the bush, Zina? Is that the way to speak to your mother? But what am I? You have long ceased to trust to your poor mother! You have long looked upon me as your enemy, and not as your mother at all!” “Oh, come mother! you and I are beyond quarrelling about an expression! Surely we understand one another by now? It is about time we did, anyhow!” “But you offend me, my child! you will not believe that I am ready to devote _all, all_ I can give, in order to establish your destiny on a safe and happy footing!” Zina looked angrily and sarcastically at her mother. “Would not you like to marry me to this old prince, now, in order to establish my destiny on a safe and happy footing?” “I have not said a word about it; but, as you mention the fact, I will say that if you _were_ to marry the prince it would be a very happy thing for you, and—”