"As my own gift?" "Yes, as your own gift."

"As my gift alone?"

"Yes, as your gift alone."

Surely I had spoken clearly enough, yet the old man seemed hardly
to understand me.

"Well," said he after reflection, "that certainly would be
splendid--certainly it would be most splendid. But what about
yourself, Barbara Alexievna?"

"Oh, I shall give your son nothing."

"What?" he cried in dismay. "Are you going to give Petinka
nothing--do you WISH to give him nothing?" So put about was the
old fellow with what I had said, that he seemed almost ready to
renounce his own proposal if only I would give his son something.
What a kind heart he had! I hastened to assure him that I should
certainly have a gift of some sort ready, since my one wish was
to avoid spoiling his pleasure.

"Provided that your son is pleased," I added, "and that you are
pleased, I shall be equally pleased, for in my secret heart I
shall feel as though I had presented the gift."

This fully reassured the old man. He stopped with us another
couple of hours, yet could not sit still for a moment, but kept