ss's arrival took her by surprise,
since, on looking round and seeing the girl's pale and astonished
face, she was a little taken aback, and muttered:

"_Pardon_. I . . . I upset it accidentally. . . . My sleeve caught
in it. . ."

And saying something more, Madame Kushkin rustled her long skirts
and went out. Mashenka looked round her room with wondering eyes,
and, unable to understand it, not knowing what to think, shrugged
her shoulders, and turned cold with dismay. What had Fedosya
Vassilyevna been looking for in her work-bag? If she really had,
as she said, caught her sleeve in it and upset everything, why had
Nikolay Sergeitch dashed out of her room so excited and red in the
face? Why was one drawer of the table pulled out a little way? The
money-box, in which the governess put away ten kopeck pieces and
old stamps, was open. They had opened it, but did not know how to
shut it, though they had scratched the lock all over. The whatnot
with her books on it, the things on the table, the bed--all bore
fresh traces of a search. Her linen-basket, too. The linen had been
carefully folded, but it was not in the same order as Mashenka had
left it when she went out. So the search had been thorough, most
thorough. But what was it for? Why? What had happened? Mashenka
remembered the excited porter, the general turmoil which was still
going on, the weeping servant-girl; had it not all some connection
with the search that had just been made in her room? Was not she
mixed up in something dreadful? Mashenka turned pale, and feeling
cold all over, sank on to her linen-basket.

A maid-servant came into the room.

"Liza, you don't know why they have been rummaging in my room?" the
governess asked her.

"Mistress has lost a brooch worth two thousand," said Liza.

"Yes, but why have they been rummaging in my room?"

"They've been searching every one, miss. They've searched all my
things, too. They stripped us all naked and searched us. . . . God
knows, miss, I never went near her toilet-table, let alone touching
the brooch. I shall say the same at the police-station."

"But . . . why have they been rummaging here?" the governess still
wondered.

"A brooch has been stolen, I tell you. The mistress has been rummaging
in everything with her own hands. She even searched Mihailo, the
porter, herself. It's a perfect disgrace! Nikolay Sergeitch simply
looks on and cackles like a hen. But you've no need to tremble like
that, miss