e romantic notion in
your head. But I am glad to see Mr...." (He pretended to have forgotten
my name.) "He'll give us his opinion."

"My opinion," I hastened to put in, "is the same as Yulia Mihailovna's.
The plot is only too evident. I have brought you these ribbons, Yulia
Mihailovna. Whether the ball is to take place or not is not my business,
for it's not in my power to decide; but my part as steward is over.
Forgive my warmth, but I can't act against the dictates of common sense
and my own convictions."

"You hear! You hear!" She clasped her hands.

"I hear, and I tell you this." He turned to me. "I think you must
have eaten something which has made you all delirious. To my thinking,
nothing has happened, absolutely nothing but what has happened before
and is always liable to happen in this town. A plot, indeed! It was an
ugly failure, disgracefully stupid. But where's the plot? A plot against
Yulia Mihailovna, who has spoiled them and protected them and fondly
forgiven them all their schoolboy pranks! Yulia Mihailovna! What have I
been hammering into you for the last month continually? What did I warn
you? What did you want with all these people--what did you want with
them? What induced you to mix yourself up with these fellows? What was
the motive, what was the object of it? To unite society? But, mercy on
us! will they ever be united?"

"When did you warn me? On the contrary, you approved of it, you even
insisted on it.... I confess I am so surprised.... You brought all sorts
of strange people to see me yourself."

"On the contrary, I opposed you; I did not approve of it. As for
bringing them to see you, I certainly did, but only after they'd got
in by dozens and only of late to make up 'the literary quadrille'--we
couldn't get on without these rogues. Only I don't mind betting that a
dozen or two more of the same sort were let in without tickets to-day."

"Not a doubt of it," I agreed.

"There, you see, you are agreeing already. Think what the tone has been
lately here--I mean in this wretched town. It's nothing but insolence,
impudence; it's been a crying scandal all the time. And who's been
encouraging it? Who's screened it by her authority? Who's upset them
all? Who has made all the small fry huffy? All their family secrets are
caricatured in your album. Didn't you pat them on the back, your poets
and caricaturists? Didn't you let Lyamshin kiss your hand? Didn't a
divinity student abuse an actual sta