Serézha stayed at home, partly because he had overslept himself, partly because he did not like to stand through a mass, which made his legs faint⁠—a matter he was unable to understand, since it was a mere trifle for him to walk forty miles on snowshoes, whereas standing through twelve pericopes was the greatest physical torture for him⁠—but chiefly because he felt that more than anything he needed a new suit of clothes. He dressed himself and went to Blacksmith Bridge. He had plenty of money. His father had made it a rule, ever since his son had passed his twenty-first year, to let him have as much money as he wished. It lay with him to leave his parents entirely without money.