of a soldier would like to undergo such want. What peasant would let us have his daughter? It is not to be expected. You see we’re in the very depths of poverty. They will say, ‘Since you starved one to death, it will be the same with my daughter.’ Who is to give her?” she added, shaking her head dubiously. “Give us your advice, excellency.”
“Well, what can I do?”
“Think of someone for us, kind sir,” repeated Arína urgently. “What are we to do?”
“How can I think of anyone? I can’t do anything at all for you as things are.”
“Who will help us if you do not?” said Arína, drooping her head, and spreading her palms with an expression of melancholy discontent.
“Here you ask for grain, and so I will give orders for some to be delivered to you,” said the prince after a short silence, during which Arína sighed, and Davidka imitated her. “But I cannot do anything more.”
Nekhliudof went into the entry. Mother and son with low bows followed the prince.