been in hysterics? As soon as she heard you were here,
she began to be hysterical!"

"_Maman_, it's you who are hysterical now, not I," Lise's voice caroled
through a tiny crack of the door at the side. Her voice sounded as though
she wanted to laugh, but was doing her utmost to control it. Alyosha at
once noticed the crack, and no doubt Lise was peeping through it, but that
he could not see.

"And no wonder, Lise, no wonder ... your caprices will make me hysterical
too. But she is so ill, Alexey Fyodorovitch, she has been so ill all
night, feverish and moaning! I could hardly wait for the morning and for
Herzenstube to come. He says that he can make nothing of it, that we must
wait. Herzenstube always comes and says that he can make nothing of it. As
soon as you approached the house, she screamed, fell into hysterics, and
insisted on being wheeled back into this room here."

"Mamma, I didn't know he had come. It wasn't on his account I wanted to be
wheeled into this room."

"That's not true, Lise, Yulia ran to tell you that Alexey Fyodorovitch was
coming. She was on the look-out for you."

"My darling mamma, it's not at all clever of you. But if you want to make
up for it and say something very clever, dear mamma, you'd better tell our
honored visitor, Alexey Fyodorovitch, that he has shown his want of wit by
venturing to us after what happened yesterday and although every one is
laughing at him."

"Lise, you go too far. I declare I shall have to be severe. Who laughs at
him? I am so glad he has come, I need him, I can't do without him. Oh,
Alexey Fyodorovitch, I am exceedingly unhappy!"

"But what's the matter with you, mamma, darling?"

"Ah, your caprices, Lise, your fidgetiness, your illness, that awful night
of fever, that awful everlasting Herzenstube, everlasting, everlasting,
that's the worst of it! Everything, in fact, everything.... Even that
miracle, too! Oh, how it has upset me, how it has shattered me, that
miracle, dear Alexey Fyodorovitch! And that tragedy in the drawing-room,
it's more than I can bear, I warn you. I can't bear it. A comedy, perhaps,
not a tragedy. Tell me, will Father Zossima live till to-morrow, will he?
Oh, my God! What is happening to me? Every minute I close my eyes and see
that it's all nonsense, all nonsense."

"I should be very grateful," Alyosha interrupted suddenly, "if you could
give me a clean rag to bind up my finger with. I have hurt it, and it's
very painful."