and understood all things, and knew and understood what no one else understood, and things which she, his mother, was now beginning to understand only through his teaching. For Agafya Mikhaïlovna, for the nurse, for his grandfather, even for his father, Mitya was just a little human being, who needed nothing but physical care; for his mother, he was a being endowed with moral faculties, who already had a whole history of spiritual relationships.
"You will see if he does n't when he wakes up. When I do this way, his face will light up, the little dove! It will light up like a bright day," said Agafya Mikhaïlovna.
"There! very well, very well, we shall see," whispered Kitty; "now go away; he is going to sleep."
CHAPTER VII
Agafya Mikhaïlovna went away on tiptoe; the nurse closed the blinds, chased away the flies which were hidden under the muslin curtain of the cradle; then she sat down, and began to wave a little withered branch over the mother and child.
"It's hot, hot! pray God, He may send a little shower," she said.
"Da! da! sh-sh-sh," was the mother's reply, as she rocked gently to and fro, and pressed Mitya to her breast. His eyelids now opened, and now closed; and he languidly moved his chubby arm. This little arm disturbed Kitty; she felt a strong inclination to kiss it, but she feared to do so lest it should wake him. At last the arm began to droop, and the eyes closed more and more. Only rarely now he would raise his long lashes, and gaze at his mother with his dark, dewy eyes. The nurse began to nod, and dropped off into a nap. Overhead she could hear the old prince's voice, and Katavasof's sonorous laugh.
"Evidently, they don't need me to help in the conversation," thought Kitty; "but it is too bad that Kostia
