I am sending the person closest to me straight into your care, and told him to take shelter nowhere else…”

Aduyev shook his head once again.

“Stupid old woman!” he said.

“Left to himself he might, because of inexperience, have chosen to stay at an inn, but I know how that would have upset his very own uncle, so I suggested that he go straight to you. What a pleasure it will be for you to meet him! My dear brother-in-law, please give him the benefit of your good counsel and take him under your wing; I hand him straight over into your care.”

Once again Pyotr Aduyev paused in his reading, and then resumed.

“As you know, you are the only one he has. Look after him, don’t pamper him, but don’t be too hard on him either; you can be sure there will be others to do that. He can’t count on affection from anyone except his family; he himself is a very sweet boy; once you’ve set eyes on him you won’t want to let him out of your sight. And tell whoever his future boss turns out to be to take care of my Sasha, and to treat him above all with kindness, just as I have always treated him at home. Keep him away from wine and cards. At night, you will no doubt be sleeping in the same room. Now, Sashenka is used to sleeping on his back, and the darling moans a lot during his sleep and tosses and turns; wake him gently and make the sign of the cross over him, and he will soon be asleep peacefully. In the summer, cover his mouth with a handkerchief; he sleeps with his mouth open, and those damned flies start going inside it towards the morning. Also, don’t leave him short of money if he should need any…”

Aduyev frowned, but as he continued reading he brightened up.

“I will send him whatever he needs, and I have given him a thousand roubles to take with him, only I don’t want him to waste it on trifles or allow strangers to cheat him, and remember that where you are, in the capital, there are a lot of swindlers and other unscrupulous types. But now, forgive me, dear brother-in-law, I’ve simply grown out of the habit of writing.

“With my sincere respects, your sister-in-law,

“A. Aduyeva.

“P.S. I am sending you some gifts of produce from the country – raspberries from our garden, white honey as pure as tears, Dutch linen, enough for two dozen shirts, and some of my homemade preserves. Please eat and wear these presents in good health, and when they run out, I’ll send some more. Keep an eye on Yevsei: he is quiet and doesn’t drink, but it may be that there in the capital he will get into bad habits; if so, don’t hesitate to give him a good hiding.”

Pyotr Aduyev slowly placed the letter on his desk – and even more slowly picked out a cigar and, after rolling it in his hands, began to smoke it. He spent a long time mulling over what he thought of as a “stunt” that his sister-in-law had pulled on him. He carefully turned the matter over in his mind, comparing how he had been treated and how he should act in his turn. This was how his reasoning proceeded on this matter. He didn’t know this nephew of his, and accordingly had no affection for him, and therefore his feelings placed him under no obligation: thus the whole matter should be decided purely on the basis of reason and justice. His brother had married and enjoyed all the benefits of married life, so why should he, Pyotr Ivanych, who had enjoyed none of the benefits of married life, assume any obligations towards his brother’s son? No reason at all, of course. But on the other hand, the matter could be viewed from a different angle. His mother had sent the young man directly to him and entrusted him with his care, without even knowing whether he was prepared to shoulder this burden, or even knowing whether he was alive and in a position to do anything for his nephew in St Petersburg. This was stupid of her, of course, but since the deed had been done and the nephew was already in St Petersburg without help, without knowing anyone, without even letters of recommendation, young and inexperienced, did he have the right to leave him at the mercy of fate and strangers, without any guidance or advice? And if he were to meet with some misfortune, would he then have to answer to his conscience?

He also happened to recall how, seventeen years ago, his late brother and Anna Pavlovna herself had seen him off. Naturally, they were unable to do anything for him in St Petersburg, and he had had to make his own way, but he couldn’t help remembering her tears, how she had given him her blessing like a mother, her kindness, her pies and, finally, her parting words: “When Sasha grows up” – he was then a three-year-old child – “perhaps you too, my dear, will be kind to him…” At this point Pyotr Ivanych rose and strode quickly to the entrance hall…

“Vasily!” he said. “When my nephew arrives, let him in, and go and see if that room upstairs is free, the one that had recently been rented out. If it is free, then tell them that I want to reserve it for myself. Oh yes, and these presents, what are we going to do with them?”

“Our shopkeeper saw them when they were being brought up, and he asked whether we could spare him the honey. ‘I’ll give you a good price for it,’ he says; and he’ll take the raspberries too.”

“Excellent! Let him have them; but where will we put the cloth? Couldn’t it be used for covers? So put away the cloth and the preserves – we can eat them, they look decent.”

Pyotr Ivanych was just about to start shaving when Alexander Fyodorych appeared. He was on the point of throwing his arms around his uncle’s neck, whereupon Pyotr Ivanych grasped his nephew’s tender, youthful hand in his powerful grip, thereby keeping him at a distance, as if the idea was that he wanted to give himself the pleasure of taking a good look at him, rather than squelching his affectionate impulse by interposing a handshake.

“What your mother wrote was absolutely true,” he said. “You’re the living image of your late father: I would have recognized you anywhere.