rank several glasses of Lafitte, then wrapped himself
up, head and all; his consciousness grew clouded and he fell asleep.

IV

Yegor Semyonitch and Tanya often quarrelled and said nasty things
to each other.

They quarrelled about something that morning. Tanya burst out crying
and went to her room. She would not come down to dinner nor to tea.
At first Yegor Semyonitch went about looking sulky and dignified,
as though to give every one to understand that for him the claims
of justice and good order were more important than anything else
in the world; but he could not keep it up for long, and soon sank
into depression. He walked about the park dejectedly, continually
sighing: "Oh, my God! My God!" and at dinner did not eat a morsel.
At last, guilty and conscience-stricken, he knocked at the locked
door and called timidly:

"Tanya! Tanya!"

And from behind the door came a faint voice, weak with crying but
still determined:

"Leave me alone, if you please."

The depression of the master and mistress was reflected in the whole
household, even in the labourers working in the garden. Kovrin was
absorbed in his interesting work, but at last he, too, felt dreary
and uncomfortable. To dissipate the general ill-humour in some way,
he made up his mind to intervene, and towards evening he knocked
at Tanya's door. He was admitted.

"Fie, fie, for shame!" he began playfully, looking with surprise
at Tanya's tear-stained, woebegone face, flushed in patches with
crying. "Is it really so serious? Fie, fie!"

"But if you knew how he tortures me!" she said, and floods of
scalding tears streamed from her big eyes. "He torments me to death,"
she went on, wringing her hands. "I said nothing to him . . . nothing
. . . I only said that there was no need to keep . . . too many
labourers . . . if we could hire them by the day when we wanted
them. You know . . . you know the labourers have been doing nothing
for a whole week. . . . I . . . I . . . only said that, and he
shouted and . . . said . . . a lot of horrible insulting things to
me. What for?"

"There, there," said Kovrin, smoothing her hair. "You've quarrelled
with each other, you've cried, and that's enough. You must not be
angry for long--that's wrong . . . all the more as he loves you
beyond everything."

"He has . . . has spoiled my whole life," Tanya went on, sobbing.
"I hear nothing but abuse and . . . insults. He thinks I am of no
use in the house. Well! He is rig