“A peasant has come to ask Egór Miháylovitch if the Meeting is to wait for him,” said Dounyásha, and glanced angrily at Egór Miháylovitch. (“Oh, that steward!” she thought; “he’s upset the mistress. Now she’ll not let one get a wink of sleep till two in the morning!”)

“Well then Egór, go and do the best you can.”

“Yes, madam.” He did not say anything more about Doútlof. “And who is to go to the fruit merchant to fetch the money?”

“Has not Peter returned from town?”

“No, madam.”

“Could not Nicholas go?”

“Father is down with backache,” remarked Dounyásha.

“Should I go myself tomorrow, madam?” asked the steward.