ut his arms.

"Why speak of the window-panes and the stove? What meaning can
the stove and the glass have? There is no comparison between
black coffee and window-panes, or the stove. Mother irritates
me."

Again his face changed and he groaned; the old woman surrendered,
but the question of money remained. Kranitski took a bill out of
his pocketbook, held it between two fingers, and thought. This is
too small. That kind of liqueur which the baron drinks is very
expensive. Vexation was evident on his face. Clemens spoke up:

"Well, stop thinking, for if thou hast not a rouble thou wilt not
think out one in a hundred years. Be calm. Only write all on a
card for me; I will go and buy what is needed."

Kranitski struggled on the sofa.

"With what money wilt thou buy it, mother?"

But she was already in the doorway of the neighboring room, and
gave no answer.

"Is it with thy own?" cried Kranitski, "surely with thy own! I
know that mother is spending her capital this good while--"

She came back with the checkered kerchief over her head, without
spectacles, and ready for the errand.

"Well, what if I do spend it? Hast thou not Lipovka? Thou hast,
and what I lend thou wilt return. Oi, oi! I stand with one foot
in the grave, and should I fight about a rouble when thou art in
need of it?"

Kranitski raised his hands and his eyes:

"What a heart!" whispered he; "what attachment! No one can equal
the old servants of our ancient families!"

After a few minutes steps were heard in the antechamber of people
coming in, and the fresh voice of a man cried:

"May one see the master of this place?"

Kranitski ran to the antechamber.

"Of course, my dears! You make me happy, altogether happy!"

And indeed he had the face of a man made happy, and also tilled
with emotion; for, taking his place in one of the armchairs
opposite Maryan, who sat in another, he listened to the baron's
narrative, which gave details of his recent expedition. Baron
Emil was uncommonly vivacious, but at the same time he feigned to
be more nervous and excited than usual.

He did not sit down for one instant.

"Merci, merci" said he to the master of the house who indicated a
chair to him; "I am in such a condition, that really, I cannot
sit in one place. Something within me is toiling, and crying, and
biting. I am full of trembling of hopes, and of anger--" A
brick-colored rosy blush appeared on his yellow cheeks; as usual,
he spoke through