"He is young," he wrote, "insufficiently educated, leads, I fancy,
an intemperate life, and altogether fails to satisfy the ideals
which the Russian people have in the course of centuries formed of
what a pastor should be."

After writing this letter Kunin heaved a deep sigh, and went to bed
with the consciousness that he had done a good deed.

On Monday morning, while he was still in bed, he was informed that
Father Yakov had arrived. He did not want to get up, and instructed
the servant to say he was not at home. On Tuesday he went away to
a sitting of the Board, and when he returned on Saturday he was
told by the servants that Father Yakov had called every day in his
absence.

"He liked my biscuits, it seems," he thought.

Towards evening on Sunday Father Yakov arrived. This time not only
his skirts, but even his hat, was bespattered with mud. Just as on
his first visit, he was hot and perspiring, and sat down on the
edge of his chair as he had done then. Kunin determined not to talk
about the school--not to cast pearls.

"I have brought you a list of books for the school, Pavel Mihailovitch,
. . ." Father Yakov began.

"Thank you."

But everything showed that Father Yakov had come for something else