itated when they heard of Misha's arrival; they did not
understand how I could have invited him to my house! He bore a very bad
reputation. But, in the first place, I knew that he was always very
polite to ladies; and, in the second place, I trusted to his promise to
reform. And, as a matter of fact, during the early days of his sojourn
under my roof Misha not only justified my expectations, but exceeded
them; and he simply enchanted my ladies. He played picquet with the old
lady; he helped her to wind yarn; he showed her two new games of
patience; he accompanied the niece, who had a small voice, on the piano;
he read her French and Russian poetry; he narrated diverting but
decorous anecdotes to both ladies;--in a word, he was serviceable to
them in all sorts of ways, so that they repeatedly expressed to me their
surprise, while the old woman even remarked: "How unjust people
sometimes are!... What all have not they said about him ... while he is
so discreet and polite ... poor Misha!"

It is true that at table "poor Misha" licked his lips in a
peculiarly-hasty way every time he even looked at a bottle. But all I
had to do was to shake my finger, and he would roll up his eyes, and
press his hand to his heart ... as much as to say: "I have sworn...."

"I am regenerated now!" he assured me.--"Well, God grant it!" I thought
to myself.... But this regeneration did not last long.

During the early days he was very loquacious and jolly. But beginning
with the third day he quieted down, somehow, although, as before, he
kept close to the ladies and amused them. A half-sad, half-thoughtful
expression began to flit across his face, and the face itself grew pale
and thin.

"Art thou ill?" I asked him.

"Yes," he answered;--"my head aches a little."

On the fourth day he became perfectly silent; he sat in a corner most of
the time, with dejectedly drooping head; and by his downcast aspect
evoked a feeling of compassion in the two ladies, who now, in their
turn, tried to divert him. At table he ate nothing, stared at his
plate, and rolled bread-balls. On the fifth day the feeling of pity in
the ladies began to be replaced by another--by distrust and even fear.
Misha had grown wild, he avoided people and kept walking along the wall,
as though creeping stealthily, and suddenly darting glances around him,
as though some one had called him. And what had become of his rosy
complexion? It seemed to be covered with earth.

"Art tho