ly with her own family; they dined now alone.
Pyotr Leontyitch was drinking more heavily than ever; there was no
money, and the harmonium had been sold long ago for debt. The boys
did not let him go out alone in the street now, but looked after
him for fear he might fall down; and whenever they met Anna driving
in Staro-Kievsky Street with a pair of horses and Artynov on the
box instead of a coachman, Pyotr Leontyitch took off his top-hat,
and was about to shout to her, but Petya and Andrusha took him by
the arm, and said imploringly:

"You mustn't, father. Hush, father!"

THE TEACHER OF LITERATURE

I

THERE was the thud of horses' hoofs on the wooden floor; they brought
out of the stable the black horse, Count Nulin; then the white,
Giant; then his sister Maika. They were all magnificent, expensive
horses. Old Shelestov saddled Giant and said, addressing his daughter
Masha:

"Well, Marie Godefroi, come, get on! Hopla!"

Masha Shelestov was the youngest of the family; she was eighteen,
but her family could not get used to thinking that she was not a
little girl, and so they still called her Manya and Manyusa; and
after there had been a circus in the town which she had eagerly
visited, every one began to call her Marie Godefroi.

"Hop-la!" she cried, mounting Giant. Her sister Varya got on Maika,
Nikitin on Count Nulin, the officers on their horses, and the long
picturesque cavalcade, with the officers in white tunics and the
ladies in their riding habits, moved at a walking pace out of the
yard.

Nikitin noticed that when they were mounting the horses and afterwards
riding out into the street, Masha for some reason paid attention
to no one but himself. She looked anxiously at him and at Count
Nulin and said:

"You must hold him all the time on the curb, Sergey Vassilitch.
Don't let him shy. He's pretending."

And either because her Giant was very friendly with Count Nulin,
or perhaps by chance, she rode all the time beside Nikitin, as she
had done the day before, and the day before that. And he looked at
her graceful little figure sitting on the proud white beast, at her
delicate profile, at the chimney-pot hat, which did not suit her
at all and made her look older than her age--looked at her with
joy, with tenderness, with rapture; listened to her, taking in
little of what she said, and thought:

"I promise on my honour, I swear to God, I won't be afraid and I'll
speak to her today."

It was seven