"Take woodcocks for instance. They are plentiful in Russia, but in other lands----"
"For Christ's sake, why don't you eat? We've got twenty-five versts to go and make them before dark," Arina Petrovna cut him short. "Petenka, dear, go hurry them in there, and see that they serve the pastry."
For a few moments there was silence. Porfiry Vladimirych quickly finished his piece of woodcock. His face was pale, his lips trembled, and he sat tapping his foot on the floor.
"You insult me, mother dear. You hurt me deeply," he declared, finally, but avoided his mother's eyes.
"Who is insulting you? And how am I hurting you--so deeply?"
"It is very--very insulting. So insulting, so very insulting! To think of your going away--at such a moment! You have lived here all the time--and suddenly--and then you mention the trunks--inspection--what an insult!"
"Well, then, if you're anxious to know all about it, why, I'll satisfy you. I lived here as long as my son Pavel was alive. He died--and I leave. And if you want to know about the trunks, why, Ulita has been watching me for a long time at your orders. And concerning myself--it's better to tell your mother straight to her face that she's under suspicion than to hiss at her behind her back like a snake."
"Mother dear! But you--but I----" groaned Yudushka.
"You've said enough," Arina Petrovna cut him short. "And I've had my say."
"I tell you, I'm through. For Christ's sake, let me go in peace. The coach is ready, I hear."
The sound of tinkling bells and an approaching vehicle came from the courtyard. Arina Petrovna was the first to arise from the table. The others followed.
"Now let us sit down for a moment, and then we're off," she said, going towards the parlor.
They sat a while in silence. By that time Yudushka had entirely recovered his presence of mind.
"After all, why shouldn't you live at Dubrovino, mother dear? Just see how nice it is here," he said, looking into his mother's eyes with the caressing expression of a guilty cur.
"No, my friend, that's enough. I don't want to leave you with unpleasant words, but I can't stay here. What for? Father, let us pray."
Everybody rose in prayer, then Arina Petrovna kissed everybody good-by, blessed them all, and with a heavy step went toward the door. Porfiry Vladimirych, at the head of the company of relatives, went with her to the porch. There on seeing the coach, he was struck by a devilish idea. "Why, the coach belongs to my brother," was the thought that flashed through his mind.