and children who gazed at him. He sat down on the bench, blushing.
"Give me a piece of warm bread, I like it," he said, and blushed even more.
Karp's wife cut off a big slice of bread, and handed it to the master on a plate. Nekhlyúdov was silent, not knowing what to say ; the women were silent, too; the old man smiled gently.
"Really, what am I ashamed of? I am acting as though I were guilty of something," thought Nekhlyúdov. "Why should I not make the proposition about the farm to him? How foolish!" But still he kept silent.
"Well, Father Dmítri Nikoláevich, what will your order be about the boys?" said the old man.
"I should advise you not to send them away, but to find work for them here," suddenly spoke Nekhlyúdov, taking courage. "Do you know what I have thought out for you? Buy in partnership with me a young grove in the Crown forest, and fields—"
"How, your Grace? Where shall I get the money for it?" he interrupted the master.
"A small grove, for about two hundred roubles," remarked Nekhlyúdov.
The old man smiled angrily.
"It would not hurt to buy it if I had the money," he said.
"Do you mean to tell me you have not that amount?" said the master, reproachfully.
"Oh, your Grace!" answered the old man, in a sorrowful voice, looking at the door. "I have enough to do to feed the family, and it is not for me to buy groves."
"But you have money, and why should it lie idle?" insisted Nekhlyúdov.
The old man became greatly agitated; his eyes flashed, he began to shrug his shoulders.
"It may be evil people have told you something about
