g out
of Pelageya's hands during dinner, as though from a shelf that had
given way; but no one said a word of blame to her, as they all
understood the state of her feelings. Only once papa flicked his
table-napkin angrily and said to mamma:

"What do you want to be getting them all married for? What business
is it of yours? Let them get married of themselves if they want
to."

After dinner, neighbouring cooks and maidservants kept flitting
into the kitchen, and there was the sound of whispering till late
evening. How they had scented out the matchmaking, God knows. When
Grisha woke in the night he heard his nurse and the cook whispering
together in the nursery. Nurse was talking persuasively, while the
cook alternately sobbed and giggled. When he fell asleep after this,
Grisha dreamed of Pelageya being carried off by Tchernomor and a
witch.

Next day there was a calm. The life of the kitchen went on its
accustomed way as though the cabman did not exist. Only from time
to time nurse put on her new shawl, assumed a solemn and austere
air, and went off somewhere for an hour or two, obviously to conduct
negotiations. . . . Pelageya did not see the cabman, and when his
name was mentioned she flushed up and cried:

"May he be thrice damned! As though I should be thinking of him!
Tfoo!"

In the evening mamma went into the kitchen, while nurse and Pelageya
were zealously mincing something, and said:

"You can marry him, of course--that's your business--but I must
tell you, Pelageya, that he cannot live here. . . . You know I don't
like to have anyone sitting in the kitchen. Mind now, remember
. . . . And I can't let you sleep out."

"Goodness knows! What an idea, mistress!" shrieked the cook. "Why
do you keep throwing him up at me? Plague take him! He's a regular
curse, confound him! . . ."

Glancing one Sunday morning into the kitchen, Grisha was struck
dumb with amazement. The kitchen was crammed full of people. Here
were cooks from the whole courtyard, the porter, two policemen, a
non-commissioned officer with good-conduct stripes, and the boy
Filka. . . . This Filka was generally hanging about the laundry
playing with the dogs; now he was combed and washed, and was holding
an ikon in a tinfoil setting. Pelageya was standing in the middle
of the kitchen in a new cotton dress, with a flower on her head.
Beside her stood the cabman. The happy pair were red in the face
and perspiring and blinking with embarrassment