He made Liza a low bow, and went back into the house.
She hoped he would go away directly; but he went to her mother's boudoir, and remained an hour with her. As he was leaving the house he said to Liza, "Votre mère vous appelle: Adieu à jamais!" then he got on his horse, and immediately set off at full gallop.
On going to her mother's room, Liza found her in tears. Panshine had told her about his failure.
"Why should you kill me? Why should you kill me?" Thus did the mortified widow begin her complaint. "What better man do you want? Why is he not fit to be your husband? A chamberlain! and so disinterested Why, at Petersburg he might marry any of the maids of honor! And I—I had so longed for it. And how long is it since you changed your mind about him? Wherever has this cloud blown from?—for it has never come of its own accord. Surely it isn't that wiseacre? A pretty adviser you have found, if that's the case!"
"And as for him, my poor, dear friend," continued Maria Dmitrievna, "how respectful he was, how attentive, even in the midst of his sorrow! He has promised not to desert me. Oh, I shall never be able to bear this! Oh, my head is beginning to ache dreadfully! Send Palashka here. You will kill me, if you don't think better of it. Do you hear?" And then, after having told Liza two or three times that she was ungrateful, Maria Dmitrievna let her go away.
Liza went to her room. But before she had had a moment's breathing-time after her scene with Panshine and with her mother, another storm burst upon her, and that from the quarter from which she least expected it.
Marfa Timofeevna suddenly came into her room, and immediately shut the door after her. The old lady's face was pale; her cap was all awry; her eyes were flashing, her lips quivering. Liza was lost in astonishment. She had never seen her shrewd and steady aunt in such a state before.
"Very good, young lady!" Marfa Timofeevna began to whisper, with a broken and trembling voice. "Very good! Only who taught that, my mother—Give me some water; I can't speak."
"Do be calm, aunt. What is the matter?" said Liza, giving her a glass of water. "Why, I thought you didn't like M. Panshine yourself."
Marfa Timofeevna pushed the glass away. "I can't drink it. I should knock out my last teeth, if I tried. What has Panshine to do with it? Whatever have we to do with Panshine? Much better tell me who taught you to make appointments with people at night. Eh, my mother!"