'There is the girl--her granddaughter, but she always keeps away. She
won't sit with her; she's such a gad-about. To give the old woman a
drink of water is too much trouble for her. And I am old; what use can
I be?'

'Shouldn't she be taken to me--to the hospital?'

'No. Why take her to the hospital? She would die just the same. She
has lived her life; it's God's will now seemingly. She will never get
up again. How could she go to the hospital? If they tried to lift her
up, she would die.'

'Oh!' moaned the sick woman, 'my pretty lady, don't abandon my
little orphan; our master is far away, but you----'

She could not go on, she had spent all her strength in saying so much.

'Do not worry yourself,' replied Alexandra Pavlovna, 'everything shall
be done. Here is some tea and sugar I have brought you. If you can
fancy it you must drink some. Have you a samovar, I wonder?' she
added, looking at the old man.

'A samovar? We haven't a samovar, but we could get one.'

'Then get one, or I will send you one. And tell your granddaughter not
to leave her like this. Tell her it's shameful.'

The old man made no answer but took the parcel of tea and sugar with
both hands.