r and I asked for tea。
〃It's hard to do anything；〃 said Sobol。 〃Your wife has faith； I respect her and have the greatest reverence for her； but I have no great faith myself。 As long as our relations to the people continue to have the character of ordinary philanthropy； as shown in orphan asylums and almshouses； so long we shall only be shuffling； shamming； and deceiving ourselves； and nothing more。 Our relations ought to be businesslike； founded on calculation； knowledge； and justice。 My Vaska has been working for me all his life； his crops have failed； he is sick and starving。 If I give him fifteen kopecks a day； by so doing I try to restore him to his former condition as a workman； that is； I am first and foremost looking after my own interests； and yet for some reason I call that fifteen kopecks relief； charity； good works。 Now let us put it like this。 On the most modest computation； reckoning seven kopecks a soul and five souls a family； one needs three hundred and fifty roubles a day to feed a thousand families。 That sum is fixed by our practical duty to a thousand families。 Meanwhile we give not three hundred and fifty a day； but only ten； and say that that is relief； charity； that that makes your wife and all of us exceptionally good people and hurrah for our humaneness。 That is it； my dear soul！ Ah！ if we would talk less of being humane and calculated more； reasoned； and took a conscientious attitude to our duties！ How many such humane； sensitive people there are among us who tear about in all good faith with subscription lists； but don't pay their tailors or their cooks。 There is no logic in our life； that's what it is！ No logic！〃
We were silent for a while。 I was making a mental calculation and said：
〃I will feed a thousand families for two hundred days。 Come and see me tomorrow to talk it over。〃
I was pleased that this was said quite simply； and was glad that Sobol answered me still more simply：
〃Right。〃
We paid for what we had and went out of the tavern。
〃I like going on like this；〃 said Sobol； getting into the sledge。 〃Eccellenza； oblige me with a match。 I've forgotten mine in the tavern。〃
A quarter of an hour later his horses fell behind； and the sound of his bells was lost in the roar of the snow…storm。 Reaching home； I walked about my rooms； trying to think things over and to define my position clearly to myself； I had not one word； one phrase； ready for my wife。 My brain was not working。
But without thinking of anything； I went downstairs to my wife。 She was in her room； in the same pink dressing…gown； and standing in the same attitude as though screening her papers from me。 On her face was an expression of perplexity and irony； and it was evident that having heard of my arrival； she had prepared herself not to cry； not to entreat me； not to defend herself； as she had done the day before； but to laugh at me； to answer me contemptuously； and to act with decision。 Her face was saying： 〃If that's how it is； good…bye。〃
〃Natalie； I've not gone away；〃 I said； 〃but it's not deception。 I have gone out of my mind； I've grown old； I'm ill； I've become a different man think as you like。 。 。 。 I've shaken off my old self with horror； with horror； I despise him and am ashamed of him； and the new man who has been in me since yesterday will not let me go away。 Do not drive me away； Natalie！〃
She looked intently into my face and believed me； and there was a gleam of uneasiness in her eyes。 Enchanted by her presence； warmed by the warmth of her room； I muttered as in delirium； holding out my hands to her：
〃I tell you； I have no one near to me but you。 I have never for one minute ceased to miss you； and only obstinate vanity prevented me from owning it。 The past； when we lived as husband and wife； cannot be brought back； and there's no need； but make me your servant； take all my property； and give it away to any one you like。 I am at peace； Natalie； I am content。 。 。 。 I am at peace。〃
My wife； looking intently and with curiosity into my face； suddenly uttered a faint cry； burst into tears； and ran into the next room。 I went upstairs to my own storey。
An hour later I was sitting at my table； writing my 〃History of Railways；〃 and the starving peasants did not now hinder me from doing so。 Now I feel no uneasiness。 Neither the scenes of disorder which I saw when I went the round of the huts at Pestrovo with my wife and Sobol the other day； nor malignant rumours； nor the mistakes of the people around me； nor old age close upon me nothing disturbs me。 Just as the flying bullets do not hinder soldiers from talking of their own affairs； eating and cleaning their boots； so the starving peasants do not hinder me from sleeping quietly and looking after my personal affairs。 In my house and far around it there is in full swing the work which Dr。 Sobol calls 〃an orgy of philanthropy。〃 My wife often comes up to me and looks about my rooms uneasily； as though looking for what more she can give to the starving peasants 〃to justify her existence；〃 and I see that； thanks to her； there will soon be nothing of our property left and we shall be poor； but that does not trouble me； and I smile at her gaily。 What will happen in the future I don't know。
DIFFICULT PEOPLE
YEVGRAF IVANOVITCH SHIRYAEV； a small farmer； whose father； a parish priest； now deceased； had received a gift of three hundred acres of land from Madame Kuvshinnikov； a general's widow； was standing in a corner before a copper washing…stand； washing his hands。 As usual； his face looked anxious and ill…humoured； and his beard was uncombed。
〃What weather！〃 he said。 〃It's not weather； but a curse laid upon us。 It's raining again！〃
He grumbled on； while his family sat waiting at table for him to have finished washing his hands before beginning dinner。 Fedosya Semyonovna； his wife； his son Pyotr； a student； his eldest daughter Varvara； and three small boys； had been sitting waiting a long time。 The boys Kolka； Vanka； and Arhipka grubby； snub…nosed little fellows with chubby faces and tousled hair that wanted cutting； moved their chairs impatiently； while their elders sat without stirring； and apparently did not care whether they ate their dinner or waited。 。 。 。
As though trying their patience； Shiryaev deliberately dried his hands； deliberately said his prayer； and sat down to the table without hurrying himself。 Cabbage…soup was served immediately。 The sound of carpenters' axes （Shiryaev was having a new barn built） and the laughter of Fomka； their labourer； teasing the turkey； floated in from the courtyard。
Big； sparse drops of rain pattered on the window。
Pyotr； a round…shouldered student in spectacles； kept exchanging glances with his mother as he ate his dinner。 Several times he laid down his spoon and cleared his throat； meaning to begin to speak； but after an intent look at his father he fell to eating again。 At last； when the porridge had been served； he cleared his throat resolutely and said：
〃I ought to go tonight by the evening train。 I out to have gone before； I have missed a fortnight as it is。 The lectures begin on the first of September。〃
〃Well； go；〃 Shiryaev assented； 〃why are you lingering on here？ Pack up and go； and good luck to you。〃
A minute passed in silence。
〃He must have money for the journey； Yevgraf Ivanovitch；〃 the mother observed in a low voice。
〃Money？ To be sure； you can't go without money。 Take it at once； since you need it。 You could have had it long ago！〃
The student heaved a faint sigh and looked with relief at his mother。 Deliberately Shiryaev took a pocket…book out of his coat…pocket and put on his spectacles。
〃How much do you want？〃 he asked。
〃The fare to Moscow is eleven roubles forty…two kopecks。 。 。 。〃
〃Ah； money； money！〃 sighed the father。 （He always sighed when he saw money； even when he was receiving it。） 〃Here are twelve roubles for you。 You will have change out of that which will be of use to you on the journey。〃
〃Thank you。〃
After waiting a little； the student said：
〃I did not get lessons quite at first last year。 I don't know how it will be this year； most likely it will take me a little time to find work。 I ought to ask you for fifteen roubles for my lodging and dinner。〃
Shiryaev thought a little and heaved a sigh。
〃You will have to make ten do；〃 he said。 〃Here； take it。〃
The student thanked him。 He ought to have asked him for something more； for clothes； for lecture fees； for books； but after an intent look at his father he decided not to pester him further。
The mother； lacking in diplomacy and prudence； like all mothers； could not restrain herself； and said：
〃You ought to give him another six roubles； Yevgraf Ivanovitch； for a pair of boots。 Why； just see； how can he go to Moscow in such wrecks？〃
〃Let him take my old ones； they are still quite good。〃
〃He must have trousers； anyway； he is a disgrace to look at。〃
And immediately after that a storm…signal showed itself； at the sight of which all the family trembled。
Shiryaev's short； fat neck turned suddenly red as a beetroot。 The colour mounted slowly to his ears； from his ears to his temples； and by degrees suffused his whole face。 Yevgraf Ivanovitch shifted in his chair and unbuttoned his shirt…collar to save himself from choking。 He was evidently struggling with the feeling that was mastering him。 A deathlike silence followed。 The children held their breath。 Fedosya Semyonovna； as though she did not grasp what was happening to her husband； went on：
〃He is not a little boy now； you know； he is ashamed to go about without clothes。〃
Shiryaev suddenly jumped up； and with all his might flung down his fat pocket…book in the middle of the table； so that a hunk of bread flew off a plate。 A revolting expression of anger； resentment； avarice all mixed together flamed on his face。
〃Take everything！〃 he shouted in an unnatural voice； 〃plunder me！ Take it all！ Strangle me！〃
He jumped up from the table； clutched at his head； and ran staggering about the room。
〃Strip me to the last thread！〃 he shouted in a shrill voice。 〃Squeeze out the last drop！ Rob me！ Wring my neck！〃
The student flushed and dropped his eyes。 He could not go on eating。 Fedosya Semyonovna； who had not aft