serious face; at the other end Nikolay Sergeitch. At the sides there
were the visitors and the children. The dishes were handed by two
footmen in swallowtails and white gloves. Every one knew that there
was an upset in the house, that Madame Kushkin was in trouble, and
every one was silent. Nothing was heard but the sound of munching
and the rattle of spoons on the plates.

The lady of the house, herself, was the first to speak.

"What is the third course?" she asked the footman in a weary, injured
voice.

"_Esturgeon à la russe_," answered the footman.

"I ordered that, Fenya," Nikolay Sergeitch hastened to observe. "I
wanted some fish. If you don't like it, _ma chère_, don't let them
serve it. I just ordered it. . . ."

Fedosya Vassilyevna did not like dishes that she had not ordered
herself, and now her eyes filled with tears.

"Come, don't let us agitate ourselves," Mamikov, her household
doctor, observed in a honeyed voice, just touching her arm, with a
smile as honeyed. "We are nervous enough as it is. Let us forget
the brooch! Health is worth more than two thousand roubles!"

"It's not the two thousand I regret," answered the lady, and a big
tear rolled down her cheek. "It's the fact itself that revolts me!
I cannot put up with thieves in my house. I don't regret it--I
regret nothing; but to steal from me is such ingratitude! That's