d puts all my calculations to fault."

"It would puzzle even one possessing the talents of my brother to count
the number of the servants here," replied Wisky. "Why, even I, who,
before my visit to England, spent months amongst the household, can
scarcely number them now. To begin with the inmates of a higher rank,
who never appear in the kitchen, there are the French governess and the
German tutor, to polish up the minds of the children, and the family
physician to look after their health. Then there are the superintendent
of accounts, the secretary, the dworezki-- he who has charge of the
whole establishment, the valets of the lord, the valets of the lady,
the overseer of the children, the footmen, the buffetshik or butler, the
table-decker, the head groom, the coachman and postilions of the lord,
the coachman and postilions of the lady,--"

"What!" cried Whiskerandos, "are their carriages so small that they will
not hold two, or are the grandees afraid of quarrelling, that husband
and wife cannot travel together!"

"Surely, Sir Wisky," exclaimed I, "you must have come to the end of your
list!"

"Pardon me, little brother, not yet. There are the attendants on the
boys and on the tutor, the porter, the head cook and the under cook, the
baker, brewer, the waiting-maids and wardrobe-keeper of the lady, the
waiting-maid who attends the French governess, the nurses that take care
of the children, and the nurses that once took care of the children, the
kapell-meister or head musician, and all the men of his band!"

"Well!" cried I, much amused, "at any rate a Russian noble must be well
served. If he calls for his shoes, I suppose that half-a-dozen servants
start off in a race to fetch them, and knock their heads together in
their eagerness to get them!"

A valet at this moment entered the kitchen, where, secure in our
hiding-place, we were watching all that passed.

"Where's Ivan?" said he, "where's Ivan?" The coachman, who was playing
at draughts with the head groom, looked up for an instant, then silently
made his move.

"My lady's a-fainting, and my lord's calling for water! Where's Ivan,
I say? 'tis his business to fetch it."

"There's Ivan," said the cook, pointing contemptuously to a sandy-haired
figure fast asleep under the table.

"Get up, ye lazy fellow!" exclaimed the valet; "my lady's fainting,
my lord's calling for water; take a glass of it on a silver salver
directly."

Ivan got up slowly, yawned,