`If you follow me, I will call in the servants, and the children! Let them all know you are a scoundrel! I am going away at once, and you may live here with your mistress!'

And she went out, slamming the door.

Stepan Arkadyevich sighed, mopped his face, and with a subdued tread walked out of the room. `Matvei says everything will come round; but how? I don't see the least chance of it. Ah, ah, how horrible it is! And how vulgarly she shouted,' he said to himself, remembering her shrieks and the words - `scoundrel' and `mistress.' `And very likely the maids were listening! Horribly vulgar, horribly.' Stepan Arkadyevich stood a few seconds alone, wiped his eyes, thrust out his chest and walked out of the room.

It was Friday, and in the dining room the watchmaker, a German, was winding up the clock. Stepan Arkadyevich remembered his joke about this punctual, bald watchmaker, `that the German was wound up for a whole lifetime himself, to wind up watches,' and he smiled. Stepan Arkadyevich was fond of a nice joke. `And maybe it will come round!' That's a good expression, ``come round,'' he thought. `I must tell that.'

`Matvei!' he shouted. `Arrange everything with Marya in the sitting room for Anna Arkadyevna,' he said to Matvei when he came in.

`Yes, sir.'

Stepan Arkadyevich put on his fur coat and went out on the front steps.

`You won't dine at home?' said Matvei, seeing him off.

`It all depends. But here's for the housekeeping,' he said, taking ten roubles from his pocketbook. `Will it be enough?'

`Enough or not enough, we must make it do,' said Matvei, slamming the carriage door and going back to the steps.

Darya Alexandrovna meanwhile having pacified the child, and knowing from the sound of the carriage that he had gone off, went back to her bedroom. It was her only refuge from the household cares which crowded upon her directly she went out from it. Even now, in the short time she had been in the nursery, the English governess and Matriona Philimonovna had succeeded in putting several questions to her, which did not admit of delay, and which only she could answer: `What were the children to put on for their walk? Should they have any milk? Should not a new cook be sent for?'

`Ah, let me alone, let me alone!' she said, and going back to her bedroom she sat down in the same place she had occupied when talking to her husband, clasping tightly her thin hands, her rings slipping down on her bony fingers, and fell to going over her recollections of the entire interview. `He has gone! But what has he finally arrived at with her?' she thought. `Can it be he sees her? Why didn't I ask him! No, no, reconciliation is impossible. Even if we remain in the same house, we are strangers - strangers forever!' She repeated again with special significance the word so dreadful to her. `And how I loved him! my God, how I loved him!... How I loved him! And now don't I love him? Don't I love him more than before? The most horrible thing is,' she began, but did not finish her thought, because Matriona Philimonovna put her head in at the door.

`Let us send for my brother,' she said; `he can get a dinner anyway, or we shall have the children getting nothing to eat till six again, like yesterday.'

`Very well, I will come directly and see about it. But did you send for some new milk?'

And Darya Alexandrovna plunged into the duties of the day, and drowned her grief in them for a time.