"Oh, yes—Helen—Paris—'Beautiful and young; he set the hearts of the goddesses aflame—' I know, I know it," cried Lubinka joyfully.
"Exactly. And how she sings 'Cas-ca-ader, ca-as-cader.' It's great."
"The doctor who was just here keeps humming 'Head over heels.'"
"That is Lyadova's song. Wasn't she splendid, cousin? When she died, nearly two thousand persons followed the hearse. People thought there would be a revolution."
"Is it about theatres you're chattering?" broke in Arina Petrovna. "Well, their destiny lies far from theatres, my boys. It leads rather to the convent."
"Granny, you've set your mind on burying us in a convent," complained Anninka.
"Come, cousin, let's go to St. Petersburg instead of to a convent. We'll show you everything to be seen there."
"Their minds should not be occupied with thoughts of pleasure, but rather with thoughts of God," continued Arina Petrovna sententiously.
"We will teach you everything under the sun. In St. Petersburg there are lots of girls like you. They walk about swinging their skirts."
"Stop bothering them, for Christ's sake, you teachers," Arina Petrovna interjected. "Nice things you can teach them."