"But if I had offended somebody, or misjudged or spoken ill, well, then, really it would be objectionable. But to have tea and breakfast and dinner—goodness! I guess, no matter how clever you are, you can't get along without food."
"Yes, well and good, but it is not after my heart."
"But don't measure things by your own yardstick. Take the advice of your elders. 'This I like, and that I don't like.' Now, you mustn't talk that way! You ought to say instead, 'If it please God, or 'if it does not please God'. That would be the proper kind of talk. Let's say, for instance, in Golovliovo we don't live according to God, if we go against Him, if we sin or question His wisdom, if we envy and do other evil things, well, then we are really guilty and deserve to be blamed. But here, too, it would have to be proved first that we really do not act according to God. And you come and say, 'It is not my style.' Now, take me as an example. There are many things that aren't my style. Here, for instance, I don't like the way you talk to me, the way you pooh-pooh my hospitality. Yet I keep mum. I want to persuade you in a quiet way, maybe you'll come to your senses. Maybe while I am jesting and talking lightly, along will come your guardian angel and lead you along the right path. You know, my friend, I am solicitous not of my welfare, but of yours. Ah, my friend, how bad of you! If, so to speak, I had offended you by word or deed, well, then you would have reason to complain. Though it behooves young people to heed even a sermon when it comes from their elders, yet had I offended you, I wouldn't mind your being angry. But here I am calm and quiet and easy. I don't say a word, but only try to figure out how to make things better and more comfortable for you and for others so that all may rejoice and be happy. And look how you greet my kindness! What you want to do, my dear, is not to be rash in your speech. First think, then pray to the Lord and implore His guidance. And then if, let's say for example—"
Porfiry Vladimirych expatiated in this strain for a long time. His words flowed like thick saliva. Anninka looked at him with instinctive fear and thought, "How is it that the gush of words does not choke him?" And for all his talk, her dear uncle did not utter a word of advice as to what she was to do in connection with the death of Arina Petrovna. She tried to bring the matter up at dinner and later at afternoon tea, but every time Yudushka spun a different web, so that Anninka was sorry she had resumed the conversation, and thought in anguish, "Will it ever end?"
After dinner, when Porfiry Vladimirych retired for his afternoon nap, Anninka remained alone with Yevpraksia and suddenly felt a desire to have a talk with her uncle's housekeeper.
She wanted to know why Yevpraksia did not find it horrible to live at Golovliovo and what gave her the strength to endure the torrents of meaningless words that uncle's mouth belched forth from morning to night.
"Do you find it dull here at Golovliovo, Yevpraksia?"
"Why should we find it dull? We are not of the gentlefolk."
"But still—always alone—no diversion, no pleasures—"
"What pleasures do I need? When it's dull, I look out of the window. I didn't have much merriment when I lived with father."