With youthful appetite Boris devoured coffee, tea, cakes and bread, his
aunt watching all the while.

"Call the people, tell the Starost and everybody that the Master is here,
the real Master, the owner. Welcome, little father, welcome home!" she
said, with an ironic air of humility, laughing and mimicking the
pleasant speech. "Forsake us not with your favour. Tatiana Markovna
insults us, ruins us, take us over into your charge.... Ha! Ha! Here are
the keys, the accounts, at your service, demand a reckoning from the old
lady. Ask her what she has done with the estate money, why the peasants'
huts are in ruins. See how the Malinovka peasants beg in the streets of
the town. Ha! Ha! Under your guardian and uncle in the new estate, I
believe, the peasants wear polished boots and red shirts, and live in
two-storied houses. Well, Sir, why this silence? Why do you not ask for
the accounts? Have your breakfast, and then I will show you everything."

After breakfast Tatiana Markovna took her sunshade, put on her
thick-soled shoes, covered her head with a light hood, and went to
show Boris the garden.

"Now, Sir, keep your eyes wide open, and if there is anything wrong,
don't spare your Grandmother. You will see I have just planted out the
beds in front of the house. Veroshka and Marfinka play here under my
eyes, in the sand. One cannot trust any nurse."

They reached the yard.

"Kirusha, Eromka, Matroshka, where have you all hidden yourselves? One
of you come here."