nt's wife. "Palashka, go and fetch him for dinner.
And what can have become of Masha?"[39]

Hardly had she said the name than a young girl of sixteen came into the
room. She had a fresh, round face, and her hair was smoothly put back
behind her ears, which were red with shyness and modesty. She did not
please me very much at first sight; I looked at her with prejudice.
Chvabrine had described Marya, the Commandant's daughter, to me as being
rather silly. She went and sat down in a corner, and began to sew. Still
the "_chtchi_"[40] had been brought in. Vassilissa Igorofna, not seeing
her husband come back, sent Palashka for the second time to call him.

"Tell the master that the visitors are waiting, and the soup is getting
cold. Thank heaven, the drill will not run away. He will have plenty of
time to shout as much as he likes."

The Commandant soon appeared, accompanied by the little old one-eyed
man.

"What does all this mean, my little father?" said his wife to him.
"Dinner has been ready a long time, and we cannot make you come."

"But don't you see, Vassilissa Igorofna," replied Ivan Kouzmitch, "I
was very busy drilling my little soldiers."

"Nonsense," replied she, "that's only a boast; they are past service,
and you don't know much about it. You should have stayed at home, and
said your prayers; that would have been much better for you. My dear
guests, pray sit down to table."

We took our places. Vassilissa Igorofna never ceased talking for a
moment, and overwhelmed me with questions. Who were my parents, were
they alive, where did they live, and what was their income? When she
learnt that my father had three hundred serfs--

"Well!" she exclaimed, "there are rich people in this world! And as to
us, my little father, we have as to souls[41] only the servant girl,
Palashka. Well, thank heaven, we get along little by little. We have
only one care on our minds--Masha, a girl who must be married. And what
dowry has she got? A comb and two-pence to pay for a bath twice a year.
If only she could light on some honest man! If not she must remain an
old maid!"

I glanced at Marya Ivanofna.[42] She had become quite red, and tears
were rolling down, even into her plate. I was sorry for her, and I
hastened to change the conversation.

"I have heard," I exclaimed (very much to the point), "that the Bashkirs
intend to attack your fort."

"Who told you that, my little father?" replied Ivan Kouzmitch.

"I heard i