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brighter! If in the more painful moments of my life I could have seen

that smile before my eyes, I should never have known what grief is. In

my opinion, it is in the smile of a face that the essence of what we

call beauty lies. If the smile heightens the charm of the face, then the

face is a beautiful one. If the smile does not alter the face, then the

face is an ordinary one. But if the smile spoils the face, then the face

is an ugly one indeed.

Mamma took my head between her hands, bent it gently backwards, looked

at me gravely, and said: "You have been crying this morning?"

I did not answer. She kissed my eyes, and said again in German: "Why did

you cry?"

When talking to us with particular intimacy she always used this

language, which she knew to perfection.

"I cried about a dream, Mamma" I replied, remembering the invented

vision, and trembling involuntarily at the recollection.

Karl Ivanitch confirmed my words, but said nothing as to the subject of

the dream. Then, after a little conversation on the weather, in which

Mimi also took part, Mamma laid some lumps of sugar on the tray for

one or two of the more privileged servants, and crossed over to her

embroidery frame, which stood near one of the windows.

"Go to Papa now, children," she said, "and ask him to come to me before

he goes to the home farm."

Then the music, the counting, and the wrathful looks from Mimi began

again, and we went off to see Papa. Passing through the room which had

been known ever since Grandpapa's time as "the pantry," we entered the

study.

III -- PAPA

He was standing near his writing-table, and pointing angrily to some

envelopes, papers, and little piles of coin upon it as he addressed some

observations to the bailiff, Jakoff Michaelovitch, who was standing in

his usual place (that is to say, between the door and the barometer)

and rapidly closing and unclosing the fingers of the hand which he held

behind his back. The more angry Papa grew, the more rapidly did those

fingers twirl, and when Papa ceased speaking they came to rest also.

Yet, as soon as ever Jakoff himself began to talk, they flew here,

there, and everywhere with lightning rapidity. These movements always

appeared to me an index of Jakoff's secret thoughts, though his face was

invariably placid, and expressive alike of dignity and submissiveness,

as who should say, "I am right, yet let it be as you wish." On seeing

us, Papa said, "Directly--wait a moment," and looked towards the door as

a hint for it to be shut.

"Gracious heavens! What can be the matter with you to-day, Jakoff?" he

went on with a hitch of one shoulder (a habit of his). "This envelope

here with the 800 roubles enclosed,"--Jacob took out a set of tablets,

put down "800" and remained looking at the figures while he waited

for what was to come next--"is for expenses during my absence. Do you

understand? From the mill you ought to receive 1000 roubles. Is not

that so? And from the Treasury mortgage you ought to receive some 8000

roubles. From the hay--of which, according to your calculations, we

shall be able to sell 7000 poods [The pood = 40 lbs.]at 45 copecks a

piece there should come in 3000. Consequently the sum-total that you

ought to have in hand soon is--how much?--12,000 roubles. Is that

right?"

"Precisely," answered Jakoff. Yet by the extreme rapidity with which

his fingers were twitching I could see that he had an objection to make.

Papa went on:

"Well, of this money you will send 10,000 roubles to the Petrovskoe

local council. As for the money already at the office, you will remit it

to me, and enter it as spent on this present date." Jakoff turned over

the tablet marked "12,000," and put down "21,000"--seeming, by his

action, to imply that 12,000 roubles had been turned over in the

same fashion as he had turned the tablet. "And this envelope with the

enclosed money," concluded Papa, "you will deliver for me to the person

to whom it is addressed."

I was standing close to the table, and could see the address. It was "To

Karl Ivanitch Mayer." Perhaps Papa had an idea that I had read something

which I ought not, for he touched my shoulder with his hand and made me

aware, by a slight movement, that I must withdraw from the table. Not

sure whether the movement was meant for a caress or a command, I kissed

the large, sinewy hand which rested upon my shoulder.

"Very well," said Jakoff. "And what are your orders about the accounts

for the money from Chabarovska?" (Chabarovska was Mamma's village.)

"Only that they are to remain in my office, and not to be taken thence

without my express instructions."

For a minute or two Jakoff was silent. Then his fingers began to twitch

with extraordinary rapidity, and, changing the expression of deferential

vacancy with which he had listened to his orders for one of shrewd

intelligence, he turned his tablets back and spoke.

"Will you allow me to inform you, Peter Alexandritch," he said, with

frequent pauses between his words, "that, however much you wish it, it

is out of the question to repay the local council now. You enumerated

some items, I think, as to what ought to come in from the mortgage, the

mill, and the hay (he jotted down each of these items on his tablets

again as he spoke). Yet I fear that we must have made a mistake

somewhere in the accounts." Here he paused a while, and looked gravely

at Papa.

"How so?"

"Well, will you be good enough to look for yourself? There is the

account for the mill. The miller has been to me twice to ask for time,

and I am afraid that he has no money whatever in hand. He is here now.

Would you like to speak to him?"

"No. Tell me what he says," replied Papa, showing by a movement of his

head that he had no desire to have speech with the miller.

"Well, it is easy enough to guess what he says. He declares that there

is no grinding to be got now, and that his last remaining money has gone

to pay for the dam. What good would it do for us to turn him out? As to

what you were pleased to say about the mortgage, you yourself are aware

that your money there is locked up and cannot be recovered at a moment's

notice. I was sending a load of flour to Ivan Afanovitch to-day, and

sent him a letter as well, to which he replies that he would have been

glad to oblige you, Peter Alexandritch, were it not that the matter is

out of his hands now, and that all the circumstances show that it would

take you at least two months to withdraw the money. From the hay I

understood you to estimate a return of 3000 roubles?" (Here Jakoff

jotted down "3000" on his tablets, and then looked for a moment from the

figures to Papa with a peculiar expression on his face.) "Well, surely

you see for yourself how little that is? And even then we should lose if

we were to sell the stuff now, for you must know that--"

It was clear that he would have had many other arguments to adduce had

not Papa interrupted him.

"I cannot make any change in my arrangements," said Papa. "Yet if there

should REALLY have to be any delay in the recovery of these sums, we

could borrow what we wanted from the Chabarovska funds."

"Very well, sir." The expression of Jakoff's face and the way in which