"Don't you tempt me!" shouted Arina Petrovna, throwing up her hands. "Leave me alone, for Christ's sake! It won't surprise me if father hears us and says I urged you on! Oh, Lord! I am an old woman, I wanted to rest a bit. I had just dozed off and then he comes with such an offer."
"Very well, then. I am going. So it's impossible? Very good. Just like kinsfolk. On account of three thousand rubles your grandson will go to Siberia. Don't forget to have a Te Deum sung when I go."
Petenka left the room, closing the door with a bang. One of his flimsy hopes was gone. What was he to do next? Only one way out was left--to confess all to father. Who knows, perhaps, perhaps, something would----
"I'll go at once and be done with it," he said to himself. "Or no! What can I hope for? Better tomorrow. Yes, I think tomorrow is better. I'll tell him and leave at once." So he decided. Tomorrow would see and end it all.
After the talk with grandmother the evening dragged on still more slowly. Even Arina Petrovna grew silent after she had learned the real cause of Petenka's arrival. Yudushka tried to be jocular with mother, but perceiving she was absorbed in her own thoughts, also grew silent. Petenka did nothing but smoke. At supper Porfiry Vladimirych asked him:
"Are you going to tell me at last why you have honored me with this visit?"
"I will tell you tomorrow," answered Petenka morosely.
Petenka rose early after a sleepless night. His harassed mind vacillated between hope and utter despair. Perhaps he did not really know his father, but one thing he was sure of, that there was not in him a single feeling, a single weak spot that could be grasped at and made use of. When face to face with his father, all he felt was something inexplicable. He did not know how to approach him, what to say first, and this made him very uneasy in his presence. It had been like that since his childhood. As far back as he could remember, it always seemed better not to attempt any forecast at all than to make a matter depend upon his father's decision. So now, too. How was he to begin? How was he to approach the matter? What was he to say first? And why had he come here at all?
A feeling of disgust seized him. Nevertheless he realized he had only a few hours left and something had to be done. Having worked himself up into a fair state of courage, he buttoned up his coat, and walked firmly to his father's study, whispering something to himself. Yudushka was saying prayers. He was pious, and every day gladly devoted a few hours to prayer, not because he loved God and hoped through prayer to enter into communion with Him, but because he feared the devil and hoped God would deliver him from the Evil One.