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"Don't worry yourself, mother," said Dounia, taking off her hat

and cape. "God has sent this gentleman to our aid, though he has

come from a drinking party. We can depend on him, I assure you.

And all that he has done for Rodya...."

"Ah. Dounia, goodness knows whether he will come! How could I

bring myself to leave Rodya?... And how different, how different

I had fancied our meeting! How sullen he was, as though not

pleased to see us...."

Tears came into her eyes.

"No, it's not that, mother. You didn't see, you were crying all

the time. He is quite unhinged by serious illness--that's the

reason."

"Ah, that illness! What will happen, what will happen? And how he

talked to you, Dounia!" said the mother, looking timidly at her

daughter, trying to read her thoughts and, already half consoled

by Dounia's standing up for her brother, which meant that she had

already forgiven him. "I am sure he will think better of it

to-morrow," she added, probing her further.