ualities.
A glass of wine, I beg. . . . Of course, it would be very agreeable
that one's wife should be rather plump, but for mutual happiness
it is not of great consequence; what matters is the mind. Properly
speaking, a woman does not need mind either, for if she has brains
she will have too high an opinion of herself, and take all sorts
of ideas into her head. One cannot do without education nowadays,
of course, but education is of different kinds. It would be pleasing
for one's wife to know French and German, to speak various languages,
very pleasing; but what's the use of that if she can't sew on one's
buttons, perhaps? I am a man of the educated class: I am just as
much at home, I may say, with Prince Kanitelin as I am with you
here now. But my habits are simple, and I want a girl who is not
too much a fine lady. Above all, she must have respect for me and
feel that I have made her happiness."

"To be sure."

"Well, now as regards the essential. . . . I do not want a wealthy
bride; I would never condescend to anything so low as to marry for
money. I desire not to be kept by my wife, but to keep her, and
that she may be sensible of it. But I do not want a poor girl either.
Though I am a man of means, and am marrying not from mercenary
motives, but from love, yet I cannot take a poor girl, for, as you
know yourself, prices have gone up so, and there will be children."

"One might find one with a dowry," said the matchmaker.

"A glass of wine, I beg. . . ."

There was a pause of five minutes.

The matchmaker heaved a sigh, took a sidelong glance at the guard,
and asked:

"Well, now, my good sir . . . do you want anything in the bachelor
line? I have some fine bargains. One is a French girl and one is a
Greek. Well worth the money."

The guard thought a moment and said:

"No, I thank you. In view of your favourable disposition, allow me
to enquire now how much you ask for your exertions in regard to a
bride?"

"I don't ask much. Give me twenty-five roubles and the stuff for a
dress, as is usual, and I will say thank you . . . but for the
dowry, that's a different account."

Stytchkin folded his arms over his chest and fell to pondering in
silence. After some thought he heaved a sigh and said:

"That's dear. . . ."

"It's not at all dear, Nikolay Nikolayitch! In old days when there
were lots of weddings one did do it cheaper, but nowadays what are
our earnings? If you make fifty roubles in a month th