chka to be got ready. In
dispatching Fetinia with the necessary instructions, she ordered her to
return with a second batch of hot pancakes.

"Your pancakes are indeed splendid," said Chichikov, applying himself to
the second consignment of fried dainties when they had arrived.

"Yes, we make them well here," replied Madame. "Yet how unfortunate it
is that the harvest should have proved so poor as to have prevented me
from earning anything on my--But why should you be in such a hurry to
depart, good sir?" She broke off on seeing Chichikov reach for his cap.
"The britchka is not yet ready."

"Then it is being got so, madam, it is being got so, and I shall need a
moment or two to pack my things."

"As you please, dear sir; but do not forget me in connection with those
Government contracts."

"No, I have said that NEVER shall I forget you," replied Chichikov as he
hurried into the hall.

"And would you like to buy some lard?" continued his hostess, pursuing
him.

"Lard? Oh certainly. Why not? Only, only--I will do so ANOTHER time."

"I shall have some ready at about Christmas."

"Quite so, madam. THEN I will buy anything and everything--the lard
included."

"And perhaps you will be wanting also some feathers? I shall be having
some for sale about St. Philip's Day."

"Very well, very well, madam."

"There you see!" she remarked as they stepped out on to the verandah.
"The britchka is NOT yet ready."

"But it soon will be, it soon will be. Only direct me to the main road."

"How am I to do that?" said Madame. "'Twould puzzle a wise man to do so,
for in these parts there are so many turnings. However, I will send a
girl to guide you. You could find room for her on the box-seat, could
you not?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then I will send her. She knows the way thoroughly. Only do not carry
her off for good. Already some traders have deprived me of one of my
girls."

Chichikov reassured his hostess on the point, and Madame plucked up
courage enough to scan, first of all, the housekeeper, who happened to
be issuing from the storehouse with a bowl of honey, and, next, a
young peasant who happened to be standing at the gates; and, while thus
engaged, she became wholly absorbed in her domestic pursuits. But
why pay her so much attention? The Widow Korobotchka, Madame Manilov,
domestic life, non-domestic life--away with them all! How strangely are
things compounded! In a trice may joy turn to sorrow, should one halt