ed
Auntie was no longer in the room. When it was quite daylight, the
porter came in, took the gander, and carried him away. And soon
afterwards the old woman came in and took away the trough.

Auntie went into the drawing-room and looked behind the cupboard:
her master had not eaten the chicken bone, it was lying in its place
among the dust and spiders' webs. But Auntie felt sad and dreary
and wanted to cry. She did not even sniff at the bone, but went
under the sofa, sat down there, and began softly whining in a thin
voice.

VII

_An Unsuccessful Debut_

One fine evening the master came into the room with the dirty
wall-paper, and, rubbing his hands, said:

"Well. . . ."

He meant to say something more, but went away without saying it.
Auntie, who during her lessons had thoroughly studied his face and
intonations, divined that he was agitated, anxious and, she fancied,
angry. Soon afterwards he came back and said:

"To-day I shall take with me Auntie and F'yodor Timofeyitch. To-day,
Auntie, you will take the place of poor Ivan Ivanitch in the 'Egyptian
Pyramid.' Goodness knows how it will be! Nothing is ready, nothing
has been thoroughly studied, there have been few rehearsals! We
shall be disgraced, we shall come to grief!"

Then he went out again, and a minute later, came back in his fur-coat
and top hat. Going up to the cat he took him by the fore-paws and
put him inside the front of his coat, while Fyodor Timofeyitch
appeared completely unconcerned, and did not even trouble to open
his eyes. To him it was apparently a matter of absolute indifference
whether he remained lying down, or were lifted up by his paws,
whether he rested on his mattress or under his master's fur-coat.

"Come along, Auntie," said her master.

Wagging her tail, and understanding nothing, Auntie followed him.
A minute later she was sitting in a sledge by her master's feet and
heard him, shrinking with cold and anxiety, mutter to himself:

"We shall be disgraced! We shall come to grief!"

The sledge stopped at a big strange-looking house, like a soup-ladle
turned upside down. The long entrance to this house, with its three
glass doors, was lighted up with a dozen brilliant lamps. The doors
opened with a resounding noise and, like jaws, swallowed up the
people who were moving to and fro at the entrance. There were a
great many people, horses, too, often ran up to the entrance, but
no dogs were to be seen.

The master took Aunt