duced quite a sensation in the secluded house. They heard a stampede of feet, both shod and naked; more than one woman's face was thrust out for an instant and then vanished again; some one was shut out, some one groaned, some one giggled, some one whispered convulsively, 'Get along with you, do!'
At last Kalliopitch made his appearance in his shabby jerkin, and, opening the door into the 'salon,' he cried in a loud voice:
'Your honour, Sila Samsonitch with some other gentlemen!'
The old people were far less fluttered than their servants. The irruption of four full-sized men in their drawing-room, comfortably large as it was, did indeed bewilder them a little, but Paklin promptly reassured them by presenting, with various odd phrases, Nezhdanov, Solomin, and Markelov to them in turn as good quiet fellows and not 'crown people.' Fomushka and Fimushka had a special dislike for 'crown'─that is, official─people.
Snanduliya, who appeared at her brother's summons, was far more agitated and ceremonious than the old Subotchevs. They asked their visitors, both together, and in exactly the same phrases, to sit down, and begged to know what they would take─tea, chocolate, or an effervescent beverage with jam? When they
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