all the crevices, Fyokla got up stealthily and went out,
and then they heard the sound of her bare feet running off somewhere.

II

Olga went to church, and took Marya with her. As they went down the path
towards the meadow both were in good spirits. Olga liked the wide view,
and Marya felt that in her sister-in-law she had someone near and akin
to her. The sun was rising. Low down over the meadow floated a drowsy
hawk. The river looked gloomy; there was a haze hovering over it here
and there, but on the further bank a streak of light already stretched
across the hill. The church was gleaming, and in the manor garden the
rooks were cawing furiously.

"The old man is all right," Marya told her, "but Granny is strict; she
is continually nagging. Our own grain lasted till Carnival. We buy flour
now at the tavern. She is angry about it; she says we eat too much."

"Aye, aye, dearie! Bear it in patience, that is all. It is written:
'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden.'"

Olga spoke sedately, rhythmically, and she walked like a pilgrim woman,
with a rapid, anxious step. Every day she read the gospel, read it aloud
like a deacon; a great deal of it she did not understand, but the words
of the gospel moved her to tears, and words like "forasmuch as" and
"verily" she pronounced with a sweet flutter at her heart. She believed
in God, in the Holy Mother, in the Saints; she believed one must not
offend anyone in the world--not simple folks, nor Germans, nor gypsies,
nor Jews--and woe even to those who have no compassion on the beasts.
She believed this was written in the Holy Scriptures; and so, when she
pronounced phrases from Holy Writ, even though she did not understand
them, her face grew softened, compassionate, and radiant.

"What part do you come from?" Marya asked her.

"I am from Vladimir. Only I was taken to Moscow long ago, when I was
eight years old."

They reached the river. On the further side a woman was standing at the
water's edge, undressing.

"It's our Fyokla," said Marya, recognizing her. "She has been over the
river to the manor yard. To the stewards. She is a shameless hussy and
foul-mouthed--fearfully!"

Fyokla, young and vigorous as a girl, with her black eyebrows and her
loose hair, jumped off the bank and began splashing the water with her
feet, and waves ran in all directions from her.

"Shameless--dreadfully!" repeated Marya.

The river was crossed by a rickety little brid