"This is Uncle," again she said to the child: but this time she said it under her breath.
"Oh, here you are, Paul!" cried Nikolai Petrovitch from behind them.
Paul Petrovitch faced about and knit his brows. But so joyously, and with such a grateful expression, was his brother regarding the trio that Paul could only respond with a smile.
"He is a fine little fellow, this baby of yours," the elder brother observed. Then, glancing at his watch, he added: "I came here merely to arrange about the purchase of some tea." With which he assumed an air of indifference, and left the room.
"He came here of his own accord, did he?" was Nikolai Petrovitch's first inquiry.
"Yes, of his own accord," the girl replied. "He just knocked at the door and entered."
"And what of Arkasha? Has he too been to see you?"
"No, Nikolai Petrovitch. By the way, might I return to the rooms in the wing of the house?"
"Why do you want to?"
"Because they suit me better than these."