“Because Marfinka took upon herself to answer his declaration she is now shut up in her room, in her petticoat, without shoes,” lied her aunt. Then in order to lay full stress on the importance of the moment, she added: “I have given orders not to admit your son, so that he may not play with a poor girl’s affections.”
It was impossible for Marfa Egorovna not to recognise the provocation of these remarks.
“If I had foreseen this,” she said angrily, “I would have given him a different answer. He assured me—and I was so willing to believe him—of your affection for him, and for me. Pardon my mission, Tatiana Markovna, and pray let that poor child out of her room. The blame rests with my boy only, and he shall be punished. Have the kindness to order my carriage.”
She placed her hand on the bell, but Tatiana Markovna detained her.
“Your horses are taken out. You will stay with me, Marfa Egorovna, to-day, to-morrow, all the week.”
“But since you are so angry with Marfa Vassilievna and my son, who does indeed deserve to be punished?”
The wrinkles in Tatiana Markovna’s face faded, and her eyes gleamed with joy. She threw her shawl and cap on the divan.
“I can’t keep it up any longer!” she exclaimed. “Take off your hat and mantilla. We are only teasing one another, Marfa Egorovna. I shall have a grandson, you a daughter. Kiss me, dear! I wanted to keep up the old customs, but there are cases which they don’t fit. We knew what must be the upshot of this. If we hadn’t wished it we should not have allowed them to go and listen to the nightingales.”
“How you frightened me!” cried Marfa Egorovna.
“He had to be frightened. I will read him a lesson.”