that day Tatiana hardly went out of the laundry. At first she had
started crying, then she wiped away her tears, and set to work as
before. Kapiton stayed till late at night at the gin-shop with a friend
of his, a man of gloomy appearance, to whom he related in detail how he
used to live in Petersburg with a gentleman, who would have been all
right, except he was a bit too strict, and he had a slight weakness
besides, he was too fond of drink; and, as to the fair sex, he didn't
stick at anything. His gloomy companion merely said yes; but when
Kapiton announced at last that, in a certain event, he would have to lay
hands on himself to-morrow, his gloomy companion remarked that it was
bedtime. And they parted in surly silence.

Meanwhile, the steward's anticipations were not fulfilled. The old lady
was so much taken up with the idea of Kapiton's wedding, that even in
the night she talked of nothing else to one of her companions, who was
kept in her house solely to entertain her in case of sleeplessness, and,
like a night cabman, slept in the day. When Gavrila came to her after
morning tea with his report, her first question was: "And how about our
wedding--is it getting on all right?" He replied, of course, that it was
getting on first-rate, and that Kapiton would appear before her to pay
his reverence to her that day. The old lady was not quite well; she did
not give much time to business. The steward went back to his own room,
and called a council. The matter certainly called for serious
consideration. Tatiana would make no difficulty, of course; but Kapiton
had declared in the hearing of all that he had but one head to lose, not
two or three. . . Gerasim turned rapid sullen looks on every one, would
not budge from the steps of the maids' quarters, and seemed to guess
that some mischief was being hatched against him. They met together.
Among them was an old sideboard waiter, nicknamed Uncle Tail, to whom
every one looked respectfully for counsel, though all they got out of