He got into the chaise with dignity, and told the footmen standing round the chaise to give him Mishutka and the fishing tackle they had brought. Setting Mishutka beside him, and putting his left arm round him, he held the reins and drove off.

“Ge-ee up!” shouted Mishutka.

Liza, unaware of what she was doing, waved her handkerchief after them. If she had looked in the glass she would have been surprised at her flushed, laughing, and, at the same time, tear-stained face. She was vexed that she was not beside her gleeful boy, and that she could not for some reason shower kisses on him at once.

For some reason!⁠ ⁠… Away with all your petty delicacies!

“Grisha! Grisha!” Liza ran into Groholsky’s bedroom and set to work to wake him. “Get up, they have come! The darling!”

“Who has come?” asked Groholsky, waking up.

“Our people⁠ ⁠… Vanya and Misha, they have come, they are in the villa opposite.⁠ ⁠… I looked out, and there they were drinking tea.⁠ ⁠… And Misha too.⁠ ⁠… What a little angel our Misha has grown! If only you had seen him! Mother of God!”

“Seen whom? Why, you are.⁠ ⁠… Who has come? Come where?”

“Vanya and Misha.⁠ ⁠… I have been looking at the villa opposite, while they were sitting drinking tea. Misha can drink his tea by himself now.⁠ ⁠… Didn’t you see them moving in yesterday, it was they who arrived!”

Groholsky rubbed his forehead and turned pale.

“Arrived? Your husband?” he asked.

“Why, yes.”

“What for?”