A minute later every one was fussing about, water was brought.

Liza embraced her mother, kissed her warmly, wept on her shoulder, then drawing back and looking her in the face she fell to laughing again.

The mother too began whimpering.

Varvara Petrovna made haste to carry them both off to her own rooms, going out by the same door by which Darya Pavlovna had come to us.

But they were not away long, not more than four minutes.
I am trying to remember now every detail of these last moments of that memorable morning.