himself that it was she, made the sign of the cross over her.

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "You know I've lost my eyes and
can see nothing. . . . I can dimly see the window and the fire, but
people and things I cannot see at all. Yes, I'm going blind, and
Fyodor has fallen ill, and without the master's eye things are in
a bad way now. If there is any irregularity there's no one to look
into it; and folks soon get spoiled. And why is it Fyodor has fallen
ill? Did he catch cold? Here I have never ailed in my life and never
taken medicine. I never saw anything of doctors."

And, as he always did, the old man began boasting. Meanwhile the
servants hurriedly laid the table and brought in lunch and bottles
of wine.

Ten bottles were put on the table; one of them was in the shape of
the Eiffel Tower. There was a whole dish of hot pies smelling of
jam, rice, and fish.

"I beg my dear guest to have lunch," said the old man.

She took him by the arm, led him to the table, and poured him out
a glass of vodka.

"I will come to you again to-morrow," she said, "and I'll bring
your grandchildren, Sasha and Lida. They will be sorry for you, and
fondle you."

"There's no need. Don't bring them. They are illegitimate."

"Why are they illegitimate? Why, their father and mother were
married."

"Without my permission. I do not bless them, and I don't want to
know them. Let them be."

"You speak strangely, Fyodor Stepanovitch," said Yulia, with a sigh.

"It is written in the Gospel: children must fear and honour their
parents."

"Nothing of the sort. The Gospel tells us that we must forgive even
our enemies."

"One can't forgive in our business. If you were to forgive every
one, you would come to ruin in three years."

"But to forgive, to say a kind, friendly word to any one, even a
sinner, is something far above business, far above wealth."

Yulia longed to soften the old man, to awaken a feeling of compassion
in him, to move him to repentance; but he only listened condescendingly
to all she said, as a grown-up person listens to a child.

"Fyodor Stepanovitch," said Yulia resolutely, "you are an old man,
and God soon will call you to Himself. He won't ask you how you
managed your business, and whether you were successful in it, but
whether you were gracious to people; or whether you were harsh to
those who were weaker than you, such as your servants, your clerks."

"I was always the benefactor of those that ser