ght,--"but only old ones," entreated Malanya Pavlovna,
"those I already know; all the new ones are spurious."

Malanya Pavlovna was very frivolous and sometimes suspicious. All of a
sudden she would take some idea into her head. She did not like the
dwarf Janus, for example; it always seemed to her as though he would
suddenly start in and begin to shriek: "But do you know who I am? A
Buryat Prince! So, then, submit!"--And if she did not, he would set fire
to the house out of melancholy. Malanya Pavlovna was as lavish as
Alexyei Sergyeitch; but she never gave money--she did not wish to soil
her pretty little hands--but kerchiefs, ear-rings, gowns, ribbons, or
she would send a patty from the table, or a bit of the roast, or if not
that, a glass of wine. She was also fond of regaling the peasant-women
on holidays. They would begin to dance, and she would click her heels
and strike an attitude.

Alexyei Sergyeitch was very well aware that his wife was stupid; but he
had trained himself, almost from the first year of his married life, to
pretend that she was very keen of tongue and fond of saying stinging
things. As soon as she got to chattering he would immediately shake his
little finger at her and say: "Okh, what a naughty little tongue! What a
naughty little tongue! Won't it catch it in the next world! It will be
pierced with red-hot needles!"--But Malanya Pavlovna did not take
offence at this; on the contrary, she seemed to feel flattered at
hearing such remarks--as much as to say: "Well, I can't help it! It
isn't my fault that I was born witty!"

Malanya Pavlovna worshipped her husband, and all her life remained an
exemplary and faithful wife. But there had been an "object" in her life
also, a young nephew, a hussar, who had been slain, so she assumed, in
a duel on her account---but, according to more trustworthy information,
he had died from a blow received on the head from a billiard-cue, in
tavern company. The water-colour portrait of this "object" was preserved
by her in a secret casket. Malanya Pavlovna crimsoned to the very ears
every time she alluded to Kapitonushka--that was the "object's"
name;--while Alexyei Sergyeitch scowled intentionally, again menaced his
wife with his little finger and said, "Trust not a horse in the meadow,
a wife in the house! Okh, that Kapitonushka, Kupidonushka!"--Then
Malanya Pavlovna bristled up all over and exclaimed:

"Alexis, shame on you, Alexis!--You yourself probably flirt