"Always children are quiet with me," he remarked. "You see, I know how to handle them."
"And they know when people are fond of them," put in Duniasha.
"True," assented Thenichka. "Though it is seldom that Mitia will go to any one's arms but mine."
"Would he come to me?" ventured Arkady, who, until now standing in the background, at this moment came forward towards the arbour. But on his attempting to wheedle Mitia to his arms, the infant threw back its head, and started to cry—a circumstance which greatly perturbed Thenichka.
"Another time—when he has come to be more used to me," said Arkady indulgently. And the two friends departed.
"What is her name?" asked Bazarov.
"Thenichka—Theodosia," replied Arkady.
"And her patronymic?"
"Nikolaievna."
"Bene! What I like about her is her total absence of shyness. True, that is a trait which some might have condemned in her, but I say, 'What rubbish!' For why need she be bashful? She is a mother, and therefore justified."