"Heaven knows what you're talking about, uncle. 'With a guitar!'"
"Well, if it isn't a guitar, then it's a bagpipe or something. Besides, you offended me first, called me foolish. So I, an old man, surely have a right to tell you the truth to your face."
"All right, let it be the truth. We won't argue about it. But tell me, please, did grandmother leave anything?"
"Why, of course, she did. But the legitimate heir was present in person."
"That is you. All the better. Was she buried here in Golovliovo?"
"No, near Pogorelka, at the St. Nicholas Church. It was her own wish."
"I'll go. Can I hire horses here, uncle?"
"Why hire? I've got my own. You are not a stranger, I dare say, a niece, my little niece."
Porfiry Vladimirych began to liven up, and put on an _en famille_ grin. "A pony cart, a pair of fine little horses--thank God, I am not poor, I dare say! And wouldn't it be well for me to go with you? We would visit the grave, you see, and then would go to Pogorelka and peep in here and there, and we would think matters over, talk things over--about this and that. Yours is a fine little estate, you know. It has some very good spots."
"No, I'll go alone, I think. Why should you go? By the way, Petenka's dead, too, I hear?"
"Yes, my dear friend, Petenka is dead, too. I am sorry for him in one way, very sorry--to the point of tears; but then--it was all his own fault. He was always disrespectful to his father, that's why God punished him. And what God, in His great wisdom, did, you and I cannot undo."
"Of course, we can't. But what makes me wonder is, why you don't find it too horrible to live."
"Why should I fear? You see how much succor I have all around." Yudushka made a gesture, pointing to the ikons. "Succor here and succor in my study. The ikon room is a veritable paradise. You see how many protectors I have."
"But still, you are always alone. It's frightful."
"And if I am afraid, I fall on my knees, say a prayer, and the fear is all gone. And why be afraid? It's light during the day, and at night I have ikon lamps burning in every room. From outside in the dark it looks as if there were a ball in the house. And what ball? Who are the guests? Holy protectors, God's chosen. Those are my guests!"