"Come into the dining-room. It is all right; come along!"
The master would receive grandmother joyfully.
"Ah, Akulina, wisest of all, how are you? Is old man Kashirin still alive?"
And grandmother would give him her most cordial smile.
"Are you still working your hardest?"
"Yes; always working, like a convict."
Grandmother conversed with him affectionately and well, but in the tone of a senior. Sometimes he called my mother to mind.
"Ye-es, Varvara Vassilievna. What a woman! A heroine, eh?"
His wife turned to grandmother and put in:
"Do you remember my giving her that cloak—black silk trimmed with jet?"