the city, and the theatre which had been started there. The four children also were prettily dressed and in good taste, and they even had a governess. However, this made them all the more sad to contemplate, for they were thin and sickly. It would have been better had they been clothed in striped petticoats and simple blouses, and had they been allowed to run about the yard by themselves, and had in no wise differed from the robust village children. The hostess was soon joined by a lady guest—some empty- headed chatterer—and, finally, the ladies retired to their own apartments, whereupon, the children running after them, the men were left alone.

“What is your price for the estate now?” inquired Tchitchikoff. “I ask this, I tell you frankly, in order to learn your ultimate, your lowest price; for the property is in a worse condition than I had anticipated.”

“In the very worst, Pavel Ivanovitch,” answered Khlobuyoff. “And that is not all. I will not conceal from you the additional fact that, out of the hundred souls which are set down on the census list, only fifty are among the living. That is the result of the cholera among us. Some others have taken their leave without passports; so that they, too, may be reckoned among the dead. If they were to be demanded by the mortgagees the whole estate would pass into the courts. Therefore I will only ask you thirty thousand roubles.”

Tchitchikoff began to meditate and to bargain.

“Mercy on us! Thirty thousand! For such an estate—thirty thousand roubles! Come, take twenty-five thousand.”

Platonoff felt ashamed for his friend. “Conclude the sale, Pavel Ivanovitch,” he said. “You can get that much for the property at any time. If you will not give him thirty thousand, my brother and I will join together and purchase it.”

“Very good, I agree,” said Tchitchikoff in alarm. “Very good; but only on condition that half of the money shall not be paid for a year.”

“No, Pavel Ivanovitch, I cannot consider that for a moment. Give me half on the spot, and the remainder in a fortnight. The bank would lend me that amount, if that were only enough to satisfy the leeches.”

“Really? Well, well,” said Tchitchikoff. “I have only ten thousand upon me at present.” In point of fact, he was lying: he had twenty thousand in all, not counting the money which Kostanzhoglo had lent him. But it pained him to part with so much at one time.

“No, thank you, Pavel Ivanovitch! I tell you that it is absolutely necessary that I should have fifteen thousand.”

“Well, only five thousand will be lacking. I do not know where to get them on the spur of the moment.”

“I will lend you five thousand to-morrow,” said Platonoff.

“Will you really?” exclaimed Tchitchikoff, thinking to himself, “Well, this is very opportune that he should lend me that money.” They then struck hands on the bargain. Tchitchikoff’s dressing-case was brought from the calash, and ten thousand roubles were taken from it, which amount Tchitchikoff handed to Khlobuyoff as earnest money. He promised to bring him the remaining five thousand roubles on the morrow; that is to say, he promised. But he meant to bring only three thousand or so, after a lapse of two or three days, and, in fact, to put it off still longer if possible. Pavel Ivanovitch particularly disliked to let any money pass out of his hands. Even in a case of extreme necessity, it always seemed to him better to surrender the money to-morrow than to-day. That is to say, he proceeded as we all do. We all find it agreeable to put off a creditor. Let him polish his spine in the anteroom for a while. Just as though he could not wait! What business is it of ours that every hour may be precious to him, and that his affairs may suffer from it? Come to-morrow, my good fellow; I have no time to attend to you to-day.