oom two alarmed and fluttered
old women were hurriedly picking up similar patterns and pieces of
tailor's chalk from the floor.

"You must, please, excuse us; we are dreadfully untidy," said the
little lady.

While she talked to me, she stole embarrassed glances towards the
other room where the patterns were still being picked up. The door,
too, seemed embarrassed, opening an inch or two and then shutting
again.

"What's the matter?" said the little lady, addressing the door.

_"Ou est mon cravatte lequel mon pere m'avait envoye de Koursk?"_
asked a female voice at the door.

_"Ah, est-ce que, Marie . . . que_. . . Really, it's impossible
. . . . _Nous avons donc chez nous un homme peu connu de nous._ Ask
Lukerya."

"How well we speak French, though!" I read in the eyes of the little
lady, who was flushing with pleasure.

Soon afterwards the door opened and I saw a tall, thin girl of
nineteen, in a long muslin dress with a gilt belt from which, I
remember, hung a mother-of-pearl fan. She came in, dropped a curtsy,
and flushed crimson. Her long nose, which was slightly pitted with
smallpox, turned red first, and then the flush passed up to her
eyes and her forehead.

"My daughter," chanted the little lady, "and, Manetchka, this is a
young gentleman who has come," etc.

I was introduced, and expressed my surprise at the number of paper
patterns. Mother and daughter dropped their eyes.

"We had a fair here at Ascension," said the mother; "we always buy
materials at the fair, and then it keeps us busy with sewing till
the next year's fair comes around again. We never put things out
to be made. My husband's pay is not very ample, and we are not able
to permit ourselves luxuries. So we have to make up everything
ourselves."

"But who will ever wear such a number of things? There are only two
of you?"

"Oh . . . as though we were thinking of wearing them! They are not
to be worn; they are for the trousseau!"

"Ah, _mamam_, what are you saying?" said the daughter, and she
crimsoned again. "Our visitor might suppose it was true. I don't
intend to be married. Never!"

She said this, but at the very word "married" her eyes glowed.

Tea, biscuits, butter, and jam were brought in, followed by raspberries
and cream. At seven o'clock, we had supper, consisting of six
courses, and while we were at supper I heard a loud yawn from the
next room. I looked with surprise towards the door: it was a yawn
that could only