d looked at Smolin with fright. He was calm,
scrutinising an ancient salt box, decorated with enamel; he twisted his
moustache and looked as though he had not heard the old man's words. But
his eyes grew darker, and his lips were compressed very tightly, and his
clean-shaven chin obstinately projected forward.

"And so, my future leading manufacturer," said Mayakin, as though
nothing had happened, "three hundred thousand roubles, and your business
will flash up like a fire?"

"And within a year and a half I shall send out the first lot of goods,
which will be eagerly sought for," said Smolin, simply, with unshakable
confidence, and he eyed the old man with a cold and firm look.

"So be it; the firm of Smolin and Mayakin, and that's all? So. Only it
seems rather late for me to start a new business, doesn't it? I presume
the grave has long been prepared for me; what do you think of it?"

Instead of an answer Smolin burst into a rich, but indifferent and cold
laughter, and then said:

"Oh, don't say that."

The old man shuddered at his laughter, and started back with fright,
with a scarcely perceptible movement of his body. After Smolin's words
all three maintained silence for about a minute.

"Yes," said Mayakin, without lifting his head, which was bent low. "It
is necessary to think of that. I must think of it." Then, raising his
head, he closely scrutinised his daughter and the bridegroom, and,
rising from his chair, he said sternly and brusquely: "I am going away
for awhile to my little cabinet. You surely won't feel lonesome without
me."

And he went out with bent back and drooping head, heavily scraping with
his feet.

The young people, thus left alone, exchanged a few empty phrases, and,
evidently conscious that these only helped to remove them further from
each other, they maintained a painful, awkward and expectant silence.
Taking an orange, Lubov began to peel it with exaggerated attention,
while Smolin, lowering his eyes, examined his moustaches, which he
carefully stroked with his left hand, toyed with a knife and suddenly
asked the girl in a lowered voice:

"Pardon me for my indiscretion. It is evidently really difficult
for you, Lubov Yakovlevna, to live with your father. He's a man with
old-fashioned views and, pardon me, he's rather hard-hearted!"

Lubov shuddered, and, casting at the red-headed man a grateful look,
said:

"It isn't easy, but I have grown accustomed to it. He also has his goo