They had grown into the habit of taking their early tea together. The morning after their conversation in the fields, Orloff appeared in his wife's room with a gloomy, disturbed expression on his face. Felizata had been ill. Matrona was alone in the room, and received her husband with a radiant smile. She was surprised, however, on seeing his expression, and inquired anxiously—"What is the matter then? are you ill?..

"I have nothing the matter with me," he replied dryly, sitting down on a chair, and drawing towards him the cup of tea which she had poured out.

"What has happened then?" ... Matrona waited for an answer.

"I have not slept at all, I have been thinking all the night We were really much too silly yesterday, much too weak with one another. I am ashamed of it now; that sort of thing leads to no good.... Women profit by such weak moments to get the better of their husbands. But don't you imagine you will succeed in that way.... You won't get over me.... That is all I wanted to say to you!"

He repeated all this with a certain emphasis, but without looking at her. She, on the contrary, never took her eyes off him.

"You are sorry then that you were yesterday so good and so kind to me?" she asked in a low voice, whilst her lips trembled painfully. "You regret then that you kissed and caressed me? It is terrible for me to hear this, very terrible.... Your words cut me to the heart What do you want to do then? Am I already a burden to you?... Don't you care for me any more?"

She looked at him searchingly as she spoke these words, and her voice was bitter and defiant "I did not mean that," said Grigori confusedly. "I only spoke in a general way.... We lived together in our cellar ... you know yourself what a life it was! Already the recollection of it even, pains me.... Now we have crept out into the light, and ... I feel half frightened.... The change all took place so quickly.... I seem to be a stranger to myself ... and you also seem to be changed.... What-does it all mean?... What will happen next?"

"What will happen next? That's as God wills, Grischka!" said Matrona in a serious tone. "I only beg this of you; don't regret that you were so kind to me yesterday."

"All right ... say no more about it!" Grigori interrupted her in the same gloomy voice. "You see, I have slept over it, and I feel sure there is no good to be got out of that sort of thing. Our former life was indeed thorny, but our present one is not full of roses.... Though I don't drink, nor fight, nor beat you ... still there is...."

Matrona laughed hysterically. "You have no time for such things now!"

"I could soon find time if I wanted to go in for that sort of thing," said Orloff, smiling. "But, somehow, I don't understand why, I don't want to do so. Besides.... I don't know.... I feel so queer somehow or other...."

He shook his head slowly, and stared fixedly before him.

"God only knows what's the matter with you," said Matrona, sighing deeply. "You get on very well here, even if you have plenty of work. The doctors all like you, and you behave so well ... What's the matter with you then? tell me ... It seems to me you are too restless."

"That's it ... I am too restless!... For I was thinking the whole night of what Peter Ivanovitch, the student, said lately. He says that all men are equals.... Well—am I not a man like any other? ... And yet this Doctor Wasschtschenko, for example, is better than I am, and Peter Ivanovitch is better, and many others also. I can see for myself that I am not their equal.... I can feel that I am not worthy to hand them a glass of water. They cured Mischka Ussoff, and they rejoiced at doing so ... and I cannot understand that. I cannot see what reason there is for rejoicing at a man's recovering from illness!... Life is often worse than cholera pains, if you look facts straight in the face. They know that as well as I do, and yet they rejoice.... I should like to be able to feel the same sort of joy as they do; but I cannot, for, as I have already said, I can't see any cause for rejoicing...."

"It is because they feel pity for mankind," Matrona interrupted. "And such pity!... It's just the same on the women's side of the Infirmary. If one of the patients gets better ... good heavens, what a fuss is made about her!... When the time comes for her to leave they help her with advice, and give her medicine and money.... I am often moved to tears when I see it.... They are indeed good people, and are filled with compassion."

"You talk of shedding tears, but it only makes me wonder ... fills me with astonishment!..."

He shrugged his shoulders, and rubbed his forehead, looking all the time at his wife with a puzzled expression.

Suddenly she began to talk eagerly and rapidly, striving to prove to him that mankind indeed deserved to be treated pitifully. Leaning forward, and looking tenderly into his face, she talked long and earnestly, about mankind, and the heavy burden of life it was called on to bear. He, however, only watched her, thinking to himself—"Just see how they can talk when they like, these women! Where on earth did she get all these words from?"

"You, yourself, also have a pitiful heart," she said. "I have heard you say you would like to destroy the cholera if only you had strength enou............