As Vera’s condition had not improved next morning, Raisky went with Vassilissa into Tatiana Markovna’s bedroom, where they found the old lady in the same state as she had been in the whole of the day before.
“I am afraid of going near her in case I alarm her,” he whispered.
“She must be awakened. Vera Vassilievna is ill, and I don’t know whether I ought to send for the old doctor.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when Tatiana Markovna sat up. “Is Vera ill?” she said in a low voice.
Raisky breathed more freely, for his aunt, in her present anxiety, had lost the stony expression of yesterday. She signed to him to leave the room. Half an hour later she was walking across the courtyard to the old house with trouble plainly depicted on her face, but apparently without a trace of weariness. She entered Vera’s room cautiously, and when she saw the pale sleeping face, whispered to Raisky, “Send for the old doctor.” She now noticed for the first time the priest’s wife and her weary eyes; she embraced Natalie Ivanovna, and advised her kindly to go and get a whole day’s rest.
When the doctor arrived, Tatiana Markovna gave him an ingenious explanation of Vera’s indisposition. He discovered symptoms of a nervous fever and prescribed medicine; but on the whole he did not think that serious consequences need be expected if the patient could be kept quiet. Vera was half asleep when she took the medicine and towards evening fell fast asleep. Tatiana Markovna sat down at the head of the bed, watching her movements and listening to her breathing. Presently Vera woke up and asked, “Are you asleep, Natasha?”
As she received no answer she closed her eyes, but she could not go to sleep again, and the darkness seemed to her to be a dark and terrible prison. After a time she asked for something to drink. Someone handed her a cup.
“How is Grandmother?” asked Vera, opening her eyes only to close them again immediately. “Natasha, where are you? Come here. Why are you hiding?” she sighed and fell asleep again. Presently she woke again and whispered pitifully, “Grandmother doesn’t come. Grandmother loves me no longer, and has not forgiven me.”
“Grandmother is here. She loves you and has forgiven you.”