oice,--"I have wished to find my companion after the inclination of the
heart; but, evidently, that was not destined to be. Farewell, dream!"--He
bowed profoundly to Liza, and returned to the house.

She hoped that he would immediately take his departure; but he went into
Marya Dmitrievna's boudoir, and sat with her for about an hour. As he
went away, he said to Liza: "_Votre mere vous appelle; adieu a jamais_
..." mounted his horse, and set off from the very porch at full gallop.
Liza went in to Marya Dmitrievna, and found her in tears: Panshin had
communicated to her his misfortune.

"Why hast thou killed me? Why hast thou killed me?"--in this wise did the
mortified widow begin her complaints.--"Whom else didst thou want? What!
is not he a suitable husband for thee? A Junior Gentleman of the
Emperor's Bedchamber! not _interessant_! He might marry any Maid of
Honour he chose in Petersburg. And I--I had been hoping so! And hast thou
changed long toward him? What has sent this cloud drifting hither--it did
not come of itself! Can it be that ninny? A pretty counsellor thou hast
found!

"And he, my dear one,"--pursued Marya Dmitrievna:--"how respectful, how
attentive, even in his own grief! He has promised not to abandon me. Akh,
I shall not survive this! Akh, I have got a deadly headache. Send
Palasha to me. Thou wilt be the death of me, if thou dost not change thy
mind,--dost thou hear?" And calling her an ingrate a couple of times,
Marya Dmitrievna sent Liza away.

She went to her own room. But before she had time to recover her breath
from her explanation with Panshin and her mother, another thunderstorm
broke over her, and this time from a quarter whence she had least
expected it. Marfa Timofeevna entered her room, and immediately slammed
the door behind her. The old woman's face was pale, her cap was awry, her
eyes were flashing, her hands and lips were trembling. Liza was amazed:
never before had she seen her sensible and reasonable aunt in such a
state.

"Very fine, madam,"--began Marfa Timofeevna, in a tremulous and broken
whisper: "very fine indeed! From whom hast thou learned this, my
mother?... Give me water; I cannot speak."

"Calm yourself, aunty; what is the matter with you?"--said Liza, giving
her a glass of water.--"Why, you yourself did not favour Mr. Panshin."

Marfa Timofeevna set down the glass.

"I cannot drink: I shall knock out my last remaining teeth. What dost
thou mean by Panshin? What h