“No, Afanasii Ivanovich: put on a little more butter, and then it will not taste burned; or take this mushroom sauce, and pour over it.”

“If you please,” said Afanasii Ivanovich, handing his plate, “let us see how that will do.”

After dinner Afanasii Ivanovich went to lie down for an hour, after which Pulcheria Ivanovna brought him a sliced watermelon, and said, “Here, try this, Afanasii Ivanovich; see what a good melon it is.”

“Don’t trust it because it is red in the centre, Pulcheria Ivanovna,” said Afanasii Ivanovich, taking a good- sized chunk. “Sometimes they are red, but not good.”

But the watermelon slowly disappeared. Then Afanasii Ivanovich ate a few pears, and went out for a walk in the garden with Pulcheria Ivanovna. On returning to the house Pulcheria went about her own affairs; but he sat down on the veranda facing the yard, and observed how the storeroom’s interior was constantly disclosed, and again concealed; and how the girls jostled one another as they carried in, or brought out, all sorts of stuff in wooden boxes, sieves, trays, and other receptacles for fruit. After waiting a while, he sent for Pulcheria Ivanovna, or went to her himself, and said, “What is there for me to eat, Pulcheria Ivanovna?”

“What is there?” said Pulcheria Ivanovna: “shall I go and tell them to bring you some berry tarts which I had set aside for you?”

“That would be good,” replied Afanasii Ivanovich.

“Or perhaps you could eat some kissel [sour jelly]?”

“That is good too,” replied Afanasii Ivanovich; whereupon all was brought immediately, and eaten in due course.

Before supper Afanasii Ivanovich took another snack. At half-past nine they sat down to supper. After supper they went directly to bed, and universal silence settled down upon this busy yet quiet nook.

The chamber in which Afanasii Ivanovich and Pulcheria Ivanovna slept was so hot that very few people could have stayed in it more than a few hours; but Afanasii Ivanovich, for the sake of more warmth, slept upon the stove-bench, although the excessive heat caused him to rise several times in the course of the night, and walk about the room. Sometimes Afanasii Ivanovich groaned as he walked about the room.

Then Pulcheria Ivanovna inquired, “Why do you groan, Afanasii Ivanovich?”

“God knows, Pulcheria Ivanovna! it seems as if my stomach ached a little,” said Afanasii Ivanovich.

“Hadn’t you better eat something, Afanasii Ivanovich?”

“I don’t know—perhaps it would be well, Pulcheria Ivanovna. By the way, what is there to eat?”

“Sour milk, or some stewed dried pears.”

“If you please, I will try them,” said Afanasii Ivanovich. The sleepy maid was sent to ransack the cupboards, and Afanasii Ivanovich ate a plateful; after which he remarked, “Now I seem to feel relieved.”

Sometimes when the weather was clear, and the rooms were very much heated, Afanasii Ivanovich got merry, and loved to tease Pulcheria Ivanovna, and talk of something out of the ordinary.

“Well, Pulcheria Ivanovna,” he said, “what if our house were to suddenly burn down, what would become of us?”