the other I sold, for we had nothing to live on; two years ago a fine cow died; when she was driven home from the herd, there was nothing the matter with her, but she suddenly staggered, and staggered, and off she went. Just my bad luck!"
"Well, my friend, you may say what you please about not having any cattle, because you have no feed, and about having no feed, because you have no cattle,—here is some money for a cow," said Nekhlyúdov, blushing, and taking from his trousers' pocket a package of crumpled bills, and running through it. "Buy yourself a cow, with my luck, and get the feed from the barn,—I will give orders. Be sure and have a cow by next Sunday,—I will look in."
Churís smiled and shuffled his feet, and for so long did not stretch out his hand for the money, that Nekhlyúdov put it on the end of the table, and reddened even more.
"We are very well satisfied with your favour," said Churís, with his usual, slightly sarcastic smile.
The old woman sighed heavily several times, standing under the beds, and seemed to be uttering a prayer.
The young master felt embarrassed; he hastily rose from his bench, walked out into the vestibule, and called Churís. The sight of a man to whom he had done a good turn was so pleasant, that he did not wish to part from it so soon.
"I am glad I can help you," he said, stopping near the well. "It is all right to help you, because I know you are not a lazy man. You will work, and I will help you; with God's aid things will improve."
"There is no place for improvement, your Grace," said Churís, suddenly assuming a serious, and even an austere, expression on his face, as though dissatisfied with the master's supposition that he might improve. "I lived with my brothers when my father was alive, and we
