It is true that neither Ana nor Mistress Veta was related to the Naraschievici family; however, Mr. Naraschievici said it was “aristocratic,” and all he said was right in Mistress Veta’s eyes.
“Is Master Dinu at home?”
“No. You know what he is—he cannot bear to stay at home.”
As she said this, Mistress Veta approached her mother, who looked as if she could have taken the whole Naraschievici family and put them outside the door, so angry was she because they had spoilt the happy hour she had hoped to pass with her grand-daughter.
“Mother,” she whispered in her ear, “it would be kind if you would go downstairs to Gheorghitza, who ought to be up now.”
The old lady was at the door before she had finished speaking: with her hand on the latch she looked furiously at her daughter and at Mr. and Mrs. Naraschievici, choked back some words and went out.
She was going away, saying to herself that she would never again set foot inside the house, when she remembered Gheorghitza. When the old lady went in Sandu was telling him tales.
“Here is kind Granny, here is kind Granny,” cried Gheorghitza gaily.
He got up quickly, put his arms round her neck and kissed her over and over again.
The old woman forgot her distress as she held Gheorghitza in her arms. He began to untie the handkerchief and feel in the pocket of her gown.