And father was smiling, waving his hands, attempting to say something, but the old man would not let him, and he commenced to shout more loudly.

And the old man was a little fellow, while father was big, handsome and tall, and his smile was sad, like that of Gulliver pining for his native land of tall and handsome people.
Of course, he must conceal from him--of course, he must conceal from him that which happened in the arbour, and he must love him, and he felt that he loved him so much.

And with a wild cry Yura rushed over to the bald-headed old man and began to beat him with his fists with all his strength.
"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.