o pass at
least the summer, retaining as many of his present household as
cared to remain with him. (Here a smile, at the idea of any of the
twenty's leaving the service of a bachelor, a lover of solitude and
simplicity, who would sooner have struck himself than one of his
servants!)--_Finally_, the whole change was to be completed in two or
three days; and a week, at the outside, would see the new existence
well begun.--Whereupon Piotr, all his news given, descended from his
imaginary rostrum, as eager as his fellows to have a voice in the
impending discussion.

* * * * *

It is no very rare thing for the Russian May-day to wear an aspect of
January. But May snow is, at least, a transient thing; and there are
years when the first day of the gentle month is such as no country would
repudiate. Nature did honor to her disciple; for the world was a glory
of young green and gold, as Ivan, bowed with memories, made his progress
out of the present, along the white, country road to the house of the
long ago.

Winter had ended ten days before; and Russia, with that marvellous
rapidity with which she accomplishes all change, had already risen from
snow-sheet and mud-bed, and stood negligeed in a robe of gauzy-green,
all flower-sprigged and sun-flecked. Three days more, and the fruit
trees, for which Klin is famous, would be bowers of pink and white. And
behind the flying droschky, there actually arose a fine, white film of
dust! House doors stood open to the milky air; and Staroste and lonely
Village Priest alike were at work in their respective gardens.

Ivan, now emerged from his black, winter mood, was tremulous with
emotion; and, as his vehicle left the village behind, his eyes ranged
over the broad country-side, reading, as in a familiar book, each old,
beloved character printed on the open page of the landscape seen last
during the summer he had spent here alone, after his mother's death.

When Ivan alighted at his own gate, Sosha stood there to welcome him and
take upon himself the customary haggle with the driver. Nor did the old
man, noting his master's face, so much as address a word to him whose
expression he read with the sagacity of one trained to the task. Hence
Ivan, his heart overflowing, went at his own, lingering gait towards
that open doorway wherein, it seemed, Sophia's slender form must
presently appear.

He entered the house alone, turning at once into the little
morni