ally were without knowing it themselves.
Vanyusha had been taken into his proprietor's house when he was only
eleven and when Olenin was the same age. When Olenin was fifteen he
gave Vanyusha lessons for a time and taught him to read French, of
which the latter was inordinately proud; and when in specially good
spirits he still let off French words, always laughing stupidly when he
did so.

Olenin ran up the steps of the porch and pushed open the door of the
hut. Maryanka, wearing nothing but a pink smock, as all Cossack women
do in the house, jumped away from the door, frightened, and pressing
herself against the wall covered the lower part of her face with the
broad sleeve of her Tartar smock. Having opened the door wider, Olenin
in the semi-darkness of the passage saw the whole tall, shapely figure
of the young Cossack girl. With the quick and eager curiosity of youth
he involuntarily noticed the firm maidenly form revealed by the fine
print smock, and the beautiful black eyes fixed on him with childlike
terror and wild curiosity. 'This is SHE,' thought Olenin. 'But there
will be many others like her' came at once into his head, and he opened
the inner door. Old Granny Ulitka, also dressed only in a smock, was
stooping with her back turned to him, sweeping the floor.

'Good-day to you. Mother! I've come about my lodgings,' he began.

The Cossack woman, without unbending, turned her severe but still
handsome face towards him.

'What have you come here for? Want to mock at us, eh? I'll teach you to
mock; may the black plague seize you!' she shouted, looking askance
from under her frowning brow at the new-comer.

Olenin had at first imagined that the way-worn, gallant Caucasian Army
(of which he was a member) would be everywhere received joyfully, and
especially by the Cossacks, our comrades in the war; and he therefore
felt perplexed by this reception. Without losing presence of mind
however he tried to explain that he meant to pay for his lodgings, but
the old woman would not give him a hearing.

'What have you come for? Who wants a pest like you, with your scraped
face? You just wait a bit; when the master returns he'll show you your
place. I don't want your dirty money! A likely thing--just as if we had
never seen any! You'll stink the house out with your beastly tobacco
and want to put it right with money! Think we've never seen a pest! May
you be shot in your bowels and your heart!' shrieked the old woman in