and have quietly consolidated his fortune. He
had indeed counted upon doing so, but he managed his affairs rather
imprudently. It seems he had discovered a new method of speculating
with the public money. The method turned out an excellent one, but he
must needs practise quite unreasonable economy,[A] so information was
laid against him, and a more than disagreeable, a ruinous scandal
ensued. Some how or other the general managed to get clear of the
affair; but his career was stopped, and he was recommended to retire
from active service. For about a couple of years he lingered on at St.
Petersburg, in hopes that a snug civil appointment might fall to
his lot; but no such appointment did fall to his lot. His daughter
finished her education at the Institute; his expenses increased day by
day. So he determined, with suppressed indignation, to go to Moscow
for economy's sake; and there, in the Old Stable Street, he hired a
little house with an escutcheon seven feet high on the roof, and began
to live as retired generals do in Moscow on an income of 2,700 roubles
a year[B].

[Footnote A: In other words, he stole, but he neglected to bribe.]

[Footnote B: Nearly L400, the roubles being "silver" ones. The
difference in value between "silver" and "paper" roubles exists no
longer.]

Moscow is an hospitable city, and ready to welcome any one who appears
there, especially if he is a retired general. Pavel Petrovich's form,
which, though heavy, was not devoid of martial bearing, began to
appear in the drawing-rooms frequented by the best society of Moscow.
The back of his head, bald, with the exception of a few tufts of dyed
hair, and the stained ribbon of the Order of St. Anne, which he wore
over a stock of the color of a raven's wing, became familiar to all
the young men of pale and wearied aspect, who were wont to saunter
moodily around the card tables while a dance was going on.

Pavel Petrovich understood how to hold his own in society. He said
little, but always, as of old, spoke through the nose--except, of
course, when he was talking to people of superior rank. He played at
cards prudently, and when he was at home he ate with moderation. At a
party he seemed to be feeding for six. Of his wife scarcely anything
more can be said than that her name was Calliope Carlovna--that a
tear always stood in her left eye, on the strength of which Calliope
Carlovna, who to be sure was of German extraction, considered
herself a woma