The stout housewife disliked and even detested the Count for many reasons
all good in her own eyes, among which the chief one was that she did
dislike him. She felt for him one of those strong and invincible
antipathies which trivial and cunning natures often feel for very
honourable and simple ones. To the latter the Count belonged, and Akulina
was a fine specimen of the former. If the Count had been literally
starving and clothed in rags, he would have been incapable of a mean
thought or of a dishonest action. Whatever his origin had been, he had
that, at least, of a nobility undeniable in itself. That his character was
simple in reality, may as yet seem less evident. He was regarded as mad,
as has been seen, but his madness was methodical and did not overstep
certain very narrow bounds. Beyond those limits within which others, at
least, did not consider him responsible, his chief idea seemed to be to
gain his living quietly, owing no man anything, nor refusing anything to
any man who asked it. This last characteristic, more than any other,
seemed to prove the possibility of his having been brought up in wealth
and with the free use of money, for his generosity was not that of the
vulgar spendthrift who throws away his possessions upon himself quite as
freely as upon his companions. He earned enough money at his work to live
decently well, at least, and he spent but the smallest sum upon his own
wants. Nevertheless he never had anything to spare for his own comfort,
for he was as ready to give a beggar in the street the piece of silver
which represented a good part of the value of his day's work as most rich
people are to part with a penny. He never inquired the reason for the
request of help, but to all who asked of him he gave what he had, gravely,
without question, as a matter of course. If Dumnoff's pockets were empty
and his throat dry, he went to the Count and got what he wanted. Dumnoff
might be brutal, rude, coarse; it made no difference. The Count did not
care to know where the money went nor when it would be returned, if ever.
If Schmidt's wife--for he had a wife--was ill, the Count lent all he had,
if the children's shoes were worn out, he lent again, and when Schmidt,
who was himself extremely conscientious in his odd way, brought the money
back, the Count generally gave it to the first poor person whom he met.
Akulina supposed that this habit belonged to his madness. Others, who
understood him better, cou