finished long before any of his neighbours'.
"That's what comes of being a rich man," they said to each other, not
grumbling, but stating a fact. "He can employ what men he likes; it is
a fine thing to have money."
Volodia's shop had always been popular, but with the arrival of the
three children it became ten times more so.
Everyone wished to show sympathy for their misfortunes; and all those
who were sufficiently well off, brought a little present, and left it
with Volodia's wife, with many mysterious nods and explanations.
"Don't tell _them_ anything about it, but just cook it. It's a chicken
we reared ourselves--one of those saved from the flood."
Volodia would have liked to give the things back again, but his wife
declared this would be such an affront to the donors that she really
couldn't undertake to do it.
"It's not for ourselves, Volodia Ivanovitch, but for those poor
innocent children; I can't refuse what's kindly meant. Many's the
_rouble_ Anna Olsheffsky (of blessed memory) has given to the people
here, and why shouldn't they be allowed to do their part?"
Meanwhile, Elena and Boris, were getting slowly used to their changed
life. It still seemed more like a dream than a reality; but they began
to feel at home in the wooden house, and Elena had even commenced to
learn some needlework from Var-Vara, and to help Maria in as many ways
as that active old woman would allow of.
"Don't you touch it, Elena Andreievna," she would say, anxiously,
"it's not fit you should work like us. Leave it to Adam, and Var-Vara,
and me. We're used to it, and it's suitable."
And so Elena had to give herself up to being waited upon as tenderly
by the old servants, as she had been during their time of happiness at
the great house.
Boris had no time for brooding, for he was working hard at his lessons
with the village Priest; and as to little Daria, she had quickly
adapted herself to the new surroundings.
She played with Tulipan, made snow castles in Volodia's side yard, and
whenever she had the chance, enjoyed a sledge drive with Alexis, in
the forest.
"If only mamma were here, I should be quite happy," she said to Elena.
"It does seem so dreadful, Elena, to think of that horrible flood. You
don't think it will come again, do you?"
Elena's eyes filled with tears, as she answered reassuringly.
"You'll see mamma some day, Daria, if you're a very good girl; and
meantime, you know, she would like you to l
|