Karl.

"Yes. How could I help hearing it?"

At this point Nicola seemed to get up for Karl said, "Sit down, Nicola,"
and then locked the door. However, I came out of my corner and crept to
the door to listen.

"However much you may do for people, and however fond of them you may
be, never expect any gratitude, Nicola," said Karl warmly. Nicola, who
was shoe-cobbling by the window, nodded his head in assent.

"Twelve years have I lived in this house," went on Karl, lifting his
eyes and his snuff-box towards the ceiling, "and before God I can say
that I have loved them, and worked for them, even more than if they had
been my own children. You recollect, Nicola, when Woloda had the fever?
You recollect how, for nine days and nights, I never closed my eyes as
I sat beside his bed? Yes, at that time I was 'the dear, good Karl
Ivanitch'--I was wanted then; but now"--and he smiled ironically--"the
children are growing up, and must go to study in earnest. Perhaps they
never learnt anything with me, Nicola? Eh?"

"I am sure they did," replied Nicola, laying his awl down and
straightening a piece of thread with his hands.

"No, I am wanted no longer, and am to be turned out. What good are
promises and gratitude? Natalia Nicolaevna"--here he laid his hand upon
his heart--"I love and revere, but what can SHE I do here? Her will is
powerless in this house."