). "R. I. T.!" As he went away,
Laptev said good-bye to no one but Fyodor.

"I shall come to Pyatnitsky Street with my wife to-morrow," he said;
"but I warn you, if father says a single rude thing to her, I shall
not stay there another minute."

"You're the same as ever," sighed Fyodor. "Marriage has not changed
you. You must be patient with the old man. So till eleven o'clock,
then. We shall expect you impatiently. Come directly after mass,
then."

"I don't go to mass."

"That does not matter. The great thing is not to be later than
eleven, so you may be in time to pray to God and to lunch with us.
Give my greetings to my little sister and kiss her hand for me. I
have a presentiment that I shall like her," Fyodor added with perfect
sincerity. "I envy you, brother!" he shouted after him as Alexey
went downstairs.

"And why does he shrink into himself in that shy way as though he
fancied he was naked?" thought Laptev, as he walked along Nikolsky
Street, trying to understand the change that had come over his
brother. "And his language is new, too: 'Brother, dear brother, God
has sent us joy; to pray to God'--just like Iudushka in Shtchedrin."

VI

At eleven o'clock the next day, which was Sunday, he was driving
with his wife along Pyatnitsky Street in a light, one-horse carriage.
He was afraid of his father's doing something outrageous, and was
already ill at ease. After two nights in her husband's house Yulia
Sergeyevna considered her marriage a mistake and a calamity, and
if she had had to live with her husband in any other town but Moscow,
it seemed to her that she could not have endured the horror of it.
Moscow entertained her--she was delighted with the streets, the
churches; and if it had been possible to drive about Moscow in those
splendid sledges with expensive horses, to drive the whole day from
morning till night, and with the swift motion to feel the cold
autumn air blowing upon her, she would perhaps not have felt herself
so unhappy.

Near a white, lately stuccoed two-storey house the coachman pulled
up his horse, and began to turn to the right. They were expected,
and near the gate stood two policemen and the porter in a new
full-skirted coat, high boots, and goloshes. The whole space, from
the middle of the street to the gates and all over the yard from
the porch, was strewn with fresh sand. The porter took off his hat,
the policemen saluted. Near the entrance Fyodor met them with a
very seriou