"Another thing," Yudushka goes on, evidently reveling in mother dear's embarrassment. "Why did you buy a house for brother Stepan?"
"I had to, my friend. I had to give him some share," says Arina Petrovna, trying to defend herself.
"And he squandered it away, of course. As if you did not know him! You knew he was a loafer, a disrespectful, foul-mouthed scamp. And to think that you wanted to give him the Vologda village, too. A neat little estate with a nice little forest and a tiny lake, lying like a shelled egg—Christ be with it! It is well that I happened to be around and kept you from taking that imprudent step. Ah, mamma dear, mamma dear, how could you?"
"But he was a son of mine, you understand? A son!"
"I know, I understand very well. And still, I repeat, you ought not to have done it. You paid twelve thousand for the house—where is the money? And Goryushkino is worth at least fifteen thousand. So the loss comes to quite a sum."
"Well, that will do, that will do. Don't be angry with me, please don't!"
"I am not angry, dearest mother, I am only upholding the cause of justice. What's true is true—and I loathe falsehood. I was born with truth, have lived with truth, and with truth I shall die. God loves truth and He would have us, too, love it. Take the case of Pogorelka, for instance. I shall always say you invested too much money in it."
"But I myself lived there."
Yudushka clearly reads "You silly Bloodsucker!" on his mother's face; but he makes believe he does not see.
"Well, yes, you lived there—still—the image-case is in Pogorelka. Whose is it, I'd like to know. And the pony and the tea-caddy. I saw that tea-caddy at Golovliovo with my own eyes, when papa was still alive. What a beautiful little box!"