I was told afterwards that when the valet ran into the bedroom, at a
violent ring of the bell, he found Ivan Matveitch not in the bed, but a
few feet from it. And that he was sitting huddled up on the floor, and
that twice over he repeated, 'Well, granny, here's a pretty holiday for
you!' And that these were his last words. But I cannot believe that. Was
it likely he would speak Russian at such a moment, and such a homely old
Russian saying too!

For a whole fortnight afterwards we were awaiting the arrival of the new
master, Semyon Matveitch Koltovsky. He sent orders that nothing was to
be touched, no one was to be discharged, till he had looked into
everything in person. All the doors, all the furniture, drawers,
tables--all were locked and sealed up. All the servants were downcast
and apprehensive. I became suddenly one of the most important persons in
the house, perhaps the most important. I had been spoken of as 'the
young lady' before; but now this expression seemed to take a new
significance, and was pronounced with a peculiar emphasis. It began to
be whispered that 'the old master had died suddenly, and hadn't time to
send for a priest, indeed and he hadn't been at confession for many a
long day; but still, a will doesn't take long to make.'

Mr. Ratsch, too, thought well to change his mode of action. He did not
affect good-nature and friendliness; he knew he would not impose upon
me, but his face wore an expression of sulky resignation. 'You see, I
give in,' he seemed to say. Every one showed me deference, and tried to
please me... while I did not know what to do or how to behave, and could
only marvel that people failed to perceive how they were hurting me. At
last Semyon Matveitch arrived.