droshky like a bailiff. I have been anxious to get him to come here;
he is spoken of as clever; I have some business with him. . . . You
know I manage my property myself.'

Rudin bowed assent.

'Yes; I manage it myself,' Darya Mihailovna continued. 'I don't
introduce any foreign crazes, but prefer what is our own, what is
Russian, and, as you see, things don't seem to do badly,' she added,
with a wave of her hand.

'I have always been persuaded,' observed Rudin urbanely, 'of the
absolutely mistaken position of those people who refuse to admit the
practical intelligence of women.'

Darya Mihailovna smiled affably.

'You are very good to us,' was her comment 'But what was I going to
say? What were we speaking of? Oh, yes; Lezhnyov: I have some business
with him about a boundary. I have several times invited him here, and
even to-day I am expecting him; but there's no knowing whether he'll
come . . . he's such a strange creature.'

The curtain before the door was softly moved aside and the steward
came in, a tall man, grey and bald, in a black coat, a white cravat,
and a white waistcoat.

'What is it?' inquired Darya Mihailovna, and, turning a little
towards Rudin, she added in a low voice, '_n'est ce pas, comme il
ressemble a Canning?_'