feels it also. She said so; 'I do not dare to offend her ladyship,' were her very words."
"How could that be?"
"It happened, your ladyship, that Mikhaïl Ivanuitch named his intentions to my wife, and my wife told him that she could not give him an answer till to-morry mornin', and my wife and me intended, your ladyship, to call on you and tell you all about it, because, bein' as it was late, we did not dare to disturb your ladyship. And when Mikhaïl Ivanuitch went, we told Viérotchka, and she said, 'I perfectly agree with you, pápenka and mámenka, that it is not to be dreamed of.'"
"Is she such a sensible and honest girl?"
"Certainly, your ladyship, she is a virtuous girl."
"Well, I am very glad that we can remain friends with you. I will pay you for this. I am even now ready to pay you for this. On the front stairs, where the tailor lives, the apartment on the second floor is vacant, isn't it?"
"It will be vacant in three days, your ladyship."
"Take it for yourself. You may spend a hundred rubles to have it put in order, and I will add to your salary two hundred and forty rubles a year."
"Allow me to kiss your ladyship's little hand!"
"Very well, that will do.—Tatiana!" The senior chambermaid came in. "Find me my blue velvet cloak. I want to give this to your wife. It cost me one hundred and fifty rubles [really eighty-five!] I have only worn it twice [in reality, more than twenty times]. And this I give to your daughter." Anna Petrovna handed the manager a lady's small watch. "I paid three hundred rubles" (in reality one hundred and twenty) "for it. I can make presents, and I shall not forget you in the future either. I make allowances for the mischief of young men."
After dismissing the manager, Anna Petrovna again summoned Tatiana: "Ask Mikhaïl Ivanuitch to come to me—or, no, it's better, I will go him myself." She was afraid that her messenger would tell the news to her son's valet, and the valet would tell her son what news the manager brought, and the bouquet would vanish, and not make the impression on her son's nose as if it were fresh from the wine of her own words!
Mikhaïl Ivanuitch was lying down, and not without some satisfaction, was twisting his mustache: "Now, what has brought her here? I have no smelling-salts for fainting-
