him-- this would have degraded him. He then began to realise that
henceforth his wife would never yield to him in any matter, and
that an obstinate strife for predominance must start between them.

"Very well! We'll see who will conquer," he thought the next day,
watching his wife with stern curiosity; and in his soul a strong
desire was already raging to start the strife, that he might
enjoy his victory the sooner.

But about four days later, Natalya Fominichna announced to her
husband that she was pregnant.

Ignat trembled for joy, embraced her firmly, and said in a dull
voice:

"You're a fine fellow, Natalya! Natasha, if it should be a son!
If you bear me a son I'll enrich you! I tell you plainly, I'll be
your slave! By God! I'll lie down at your feet, and you may
trample upon me, if you like!"

"This is not within our power; it's the will of the Lord," said
she in a low voice.

"Yes, the Lord's!" exclaimed Ignat with bitterness and drooped
his head sadly.

From that moment he began to look after his wife as though she
were a little child.

"Why do you sit near the window? Look out. You'll catch cold in