romised to someone else," said
the director, and he frowned. "And you know my rule: I never give
posts through patronage."

"I know, but for Nina Sergeyevna, I imagine, you might make an
exception. She loves us as though we were relations, and we have
never done anything for her. And don't think of refusing, Fedya!
You will wound both her and me with your whims."

"Who is it that she is recommending?"

"Polzuhin!"

"What Polzuhin? Is it that fellow who played Tchatsky at the party
on New Year's Day? Is it that gentleman? Not on any account!"

The director left off eating.

"Not on any account!" he repeated. "Heaven preserve us!"

"But why not?"

"Understand, my dear, that if a young man does not set to work
directly, but through women, he must be good for nothing! Why doesn't
he come to me himself?"

After dinner the director lay on the sofa in his study and began
reading the letters and newspapers he had received.

"Dear Fyodor Petrovitch," wrote the wife of the Mayor of the town.
"You once said that I knew the human heart and understood people.
Now you have an opportunity of verifying this in practice. K. N.
Polzuhin, whom I know to be an excellent young man, will call upon
you in a day or two to ask you for the post of secretary at our
Home. He is a very nice youth. If you take an interest in him you
will be convinced of it." And so on.

"On no account!" was the director's comment. "Heaven preserve me!"

After that, not a day passed without the director's receiving letters
recommending Polzuhin. One fine morning Polzuhin himself, a stout
young man with a close-shaven face like a jockey's, in a new black
suit, made his appearance. . . .

"I see people on business not here but at the office," said the
director drily, on hearing his request.

"Forgive me, your Excellency, but our common acquaintances advised
me to come here."

"H'm!" growled the director, looking with hatred at the pointed
toes of the young man's shoes. "To the best of my belief your father
is a man of property and you are not in want," he said. "What induces
you to ask for this post? The salary is very trifling!"

"It's not for the sake of the salary. . . . It's a government post,
any way . . ."

"H'm. . . . It strikes me that within a month you will be sick of
the job and you will give it up, and meanwhile there are candidates
for whom it would be a career for life. There are poor men for whom
. . ."

"I shan't get sick of it