“Don’t you dare insult him!  Don’t you dare insult him!”

O Lord, what has happened!  Some one laughed; some one shouted.  Father caught Yura in his arms, pressed him closely, causing him pain, and cried: 

“Where is mother?  Call mother.”

Then Yura was seized with a whirlwind of frantic tears, of desperate sobs and mortal anguish.  But through his frantic tears he looked at his father to see whether he had guessed it, and when mother came in he started to shout louder in order to divert any suspicion.  But he did not go to her arms; he clung more closely to father, so that father had to carry him into his room.  But it seemed that he himself did not want to part with Yura.  As soon as he carried him out of the room where the guests were he began to kiss him, and he repeated: 

“Oh, my dearest!  Oh, my dearest!”

And he said to mamma, who walked behind him: 

“Just think of the boy!”

Mamma said: 

“That is all due to your whist.  You were scolding each other so, that the child was frightened.”

Father began to laugh, and answered: 

“Yes, he does scold harshly.  But Yura, oh, what a dear boy!”

In his room Yura demanded that father himself undress him.  “Now, you are getting cranky,” said father.  “I don’t know how to do it; let mamma undress you.”

“But you stay here.”

Mamma had deft fingers and she undressed him quickly, and while she was removing his clothes Yura held father by the hand.  He ordered the nurse out of the room; but as father was beginning to grow angry, and he might guess what had happened in the arbour, decided to let him go.  But while kissing him he said cunningly: 

“He will not scold you any more, will he?”

Papa smiled.  Then he laughed, kissed Yura once more and said: 

“No, no.  And if he does I will throw him across the fence.”

“Please, do,” said Yura.  “You can do it.  You are so strong.”

“Yes, I am pretty strong.  But you had better sleep!  Mamma will stay here with you a while.”

Mamma said: 

“I will send the nurse in.  I must attend to the supper.”

Father shouted: 

“There is plenty of time for that!  You can stay a while with the child.”

But mamma insisted: 

“We have guests!  We can’t leave them that way.”

But father looked at her steadfastly, and shrugged his shoulders.  Mamma decided to stay.

“Very well, then, I’ll stay here.  But see that Maria does not mix up the wines.”

Usually it was thus:  when mamma sat near Yura as he was falling asleep she held his hand until the last moment—­that is what she usually did.  But now she sat as though she were all alone, as though Yura, her son, who was falling asleep, was not there at all—­she folded her hands in her lap and looked into the distance.  To attract her attention Yura stirred, but mamma said briefly: