d. Fyodor had for some reason given up going to the warehouse
and spent his time sitting at home writing something. Panaurov had
got a post in another town, and had been promoted an actual civil
councillor, and was now staying at the Dresden. He came to the
Laptevs' almost every day to ask for money. Kish had finished his
studies at last, and while waiting for Laptev to find him a job,
used to spend whole days at a time with them, telling them long,
tedious stories. All this was irritating and exhausting, and made
daily life unpleasant.

Pyotr came into the study, and announced an unknown lady. On the
card he brought in was the name "Josephina Iosefovna Milan."

Yulia Sergeyevna got up languidly and went out limping slightly,
as her foot had gone to sleep. In the doorway appeared a pale, thin
lady with dark eyebrows, dressed altogether in black. She clasped
her hands on her bosom and said supplicatingly:

"M. Laptev, save my children!"

The jingle of her bracelets sounded familiar to him, and he knew
the face with patches of powder on it; he recognised her as the
lady with whom he had once so inappropriately dined before his
marriage. It was Panaurov's second wife.

"Save my children," she repeated, and her face suddenly quivered
and looked old and pitiful. "You alone can save us, and I have spent
my last penny coming to Moscow to see you! My children are starving!"

She made a motion as though she were going to fall on her knees.
Laptev was alarmed, and clutched her by the arm.

"Sit down, sit down . . ." he muttered, making her sit down. "I beg
you to be seated."

"We have no money to buy bread," she said. "Grigory Nikolaevitch
is going away to a new post, but he will not take the children and
me with him, and the money which you so generously send us he spends
only on himself. What are we to do? What? My poor, unhappy children!"

"Calm yourself, I beg. I will give orders that that money shall be
made payable to you."

She began sobbing, and then grew calmer, and he noticed that the
tears had made little pathways through the powder on her cheeks,
and that she was growing a moustache.

"You are infinitely generous, M. Laptev. But be our guardian angel,
our good fairy, persuade Grigory Nikolaevitch not to abandon me,
but to take me with him. You know I love him--I love him insanely;
he's the comfort of my life."

Laptev gave her a hundred roubles, and promised to talk to Panaurov,
and saw her out to the