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he twitched his fingers showed that this order had given him great

satisfaction. He was a serf, and a most zealous, devoted one, but,

like all good bailiffs, exacting and parsimonious to a degree in the

interests of his master. Moreover, he had some queer notions of his own.

He was forever endeavouring to increase his master's property at the

expense of his mistress's, and to prove that it would be impossible to

avoid using the rents from her estates for the benefit of Petrovskoe (my

father's village, and the place where we lived). This point he had now

gained and was delighted in consequence.

Papa then greeted ourselves, and said that if we stayed much longer in

the country we should become lazy boys; that we were growing quite big

now, and must set about doing lessons in earnest,

"I suppose you know that I am starting for Moscow to-night?" he went on,

"and that I am going to take you with me? You will live with Grandmamma,

but Mamma and the girls will remain here. You know, too, I am sure, that

Mamma's one consolation will be to hear that you are doing your lessons

well and pleasing every one around you."

The preparations which had been in progress for some days past had

made us expect some unusual event, but this news left us thunderstruck,

Woloda turned red, and, with a shaking voice, delivered Mamma's message

to Papa.

"So this was what my dream foreboded!" I thought to myself. "God send

that there come nothing worse!" I felt terribly sorry to have to leave

Mamma, but at the same rejoiced to think that I should soon be grown up,

"If we are going to-day, we shall probably have no lessons to do, and

that will be splendid. However, I am sorry for Karl Ivanitch, for he

will certainly be dismissed now. That was why that envelope had been

prepared for him. I think I would almost rather stay and do lessons here

than leave Mamma or hurt poor Karl. He is miserable enough already."

As these thoughts crossed my mind I stood looking sadly at the black

ribbons on my shoes. After a few words to Karl Ivanitch about the

depression of the barometer and an injunction to Jakoff not to feed

the hounds, since a farewell meet was to be held after luncheon, Papa

disappointed my hopes by sending us off to lessons--though he also

consoled us by promising to take us out hunting later.

On my way upstairs I made a digression to the terrace. Near the door

leading on to it Papa's favourite hound, Milka, was lying in the sun and

blinking her eyes.

"Miloshka," I cried as I caressed her and kissed her nose, "we are going

away today. Good-bye. Perhaps we shall never see each other again." I

was crying and laughing at the same time.

IV -- LESSONS

Karl Ivanitch was in a bad temper. This was clear from his contracted

brows, and from the way in which he flung his frockcoat into a drawer,

angrily donned his old dressing-gown again, and made deep dints with

his nails to mark the place in the book of dialogues to which we were

to learn by heart. Woloda began working diligently, but I was too

distracted to do anything at all. For a long while I stared vacantly

at the book; but tears at the thought of the impending separation kept

rushing to my eyes and preventing me from reading a single word. When at

length the time came to repeat the dialogues to Karl (who listened to us

with blinking eyes--a very bad sign), I had no sooner reached the place

where some one asks, "Wo kommen Sie her?" ("Where do you come from?")

and some one else answers him, "Ich komme vom Kaffeehaus" ("I come from

the coffee-house"), than I burst into tears and, for sobbing, could not

pronounce, "Haben Sie die Zeitung nicht gelesen?" ("Have you not read the

newspaper?") at all. Next, when we came to our writing lesson, the tears

kept falling from my eyes and, making a mess on the paper, as though

some one had written on blotting-paper with water, Karl was very

angry. He ordered me to go down upon my knees, declared that it was all

obstinacy and "puppet-comedy playing" (a favourite expression of his)

on my part, threatened me with the ruler, and commanded me to say that

I was sorry. Yet for sobbing and crying I could not get a word out. At

last--conscious, perhaps, that he was unjust--he departed to Nicola's

pantry, and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless their conversation

there carried to the schoolroom.

"Have you heard that the children are going to Moscow, Nicola?" said

Karl.

"Yes. How could I help hearing it?"

At this point Nicola seemed to get up for Karl said, "Sit down, Nicola,"

and then locked the door. However, I came out of my corner and crept to

the door to listen.

"However much you may do for people, and however fond of them you may

be, never expect any gratitude, Nicola," said Karl warmly. Nicola, who

was shoe-cobbling by the window, nodded his head in assent.

"Twelve years have I lived in this house," went on Karl, lifting his

eyes and his snuff-box towards the ceiling, "and before God I can say

that I have loved them, and worked for them, even more than if they had

been my own children. You recollect, Nicola, when Woloda had the fever?

You recollect how, for nine days and nights, I never closed my eyes as

I sat beside his bed? Yes, at that time I was 'the dear, good Karl

Ivanitch'--I was wanted then; but now"--and he smiled ironically--"the

children are growing up, and must go to study in earnest. Perhaps they

never learnt anything with me, Nicola? Eh?"

"I am sure they did," replied Nicola, laying his awl down and

straightening a piece of thread with his hands.

"No, I am wanted no longer, and am to be turned out. What good are

promises and gratitude? Natalia Nicolaevna"--here he laid his hand upon

his heart--"I love and revere, but what can SHE I do here? Her will is

powerless in this house."

He flung a strip of leather on the floor with an angry gesture. "Yet I

know who has been playing tricks here, and why I am no longer wanted. It

is because I do not flatter and toady as certain people do. I am in

the habit of speaking the truth in all places and to all persons," he

continued proudly, "God be with these children, for my leaving them will

benefit them little, whereas I--well, by God's help I may be able to

earn a crust of bread somewhere. Nicola, eh?"

Nicola raised his head and looked at Karl as though to consider whether

he would indeed be able to earn a crust of bread, but he said nothing.

Karl said a great deal more of the same kind--in particular how much

better his services had been appreciated at a certain general's where

he had formerly lived (I regretted to hear that). Likewise he spoke of

Saxony, his parents, his friend the tailor, Schonheit (beauty), and so

on.

I sympathised with his distress, and felt dreadfully sorry that he and

Papa (both of whom I loved about equally) had had a difference. Then I

returned to my corner, crouched down upon my heels, and fell to thinking

how a reconciliation between them might be effected.

Returning to the study, Karl ordered me to get up and prepare to write

from dictation. When I was ready he sat down with a dignified air in

his arm-chair, and in a voice which seemed to come from a profound abyss

began to dictate: "Von al-len Lei-den-shaf-ten die grau-samste ist. Have