After Marfa Timofeevna had left her—­who had conceived a perfect hatred for Glafira, and had quarrelled with her three times in the course of a single day—­the poor woman at first found her position difficult and painful.  But after a time she attained endurance, and grew accustomed to her father-in-law.  He, on his part, grew accustomed to her, and became fond of her, though he scarcely ever spoke to her, although in his caresses themselves a certain involuntary contempt showed itself.  But it was her sister-in-law who made Malania suffer the most.  Even during her mother’s lifetime, Glafira had gradually succeeded in getting the entire management of the house into her own hands.  Every one, from her father downwards, yielded to her.  Without her permission not even a lump of sugar was to be got.  She would have preferred to die rather than to delegate her authority to another housewife—­and such a housewife too!  She had been even more irritated than Peter Andreich by her brother’s marriage, so she determined to read the upstart a good lesson, and from the very first Malania Sergievna became her slave.  And Malania, utterly without defence, weak in health, constantly a prey to trouble and alarm—­how could she have striven against the proud and strong-willed Glafira?  Not a day passed without Glafira reminding her of her former position, and praising her for not forgetting herself.  Malania Sergievna would willingly have acquiesced in these remindings and praisings, however bitter they might be—­but her child had been taken away from her.  This drove her to despair.  Under the pretext that she was not qualified to see after his education, she was scarcely ever allowed to go near him.  Glafira undertook the task.  The child passed entirely into her keeping.

In her sorrow, Malania Sergievna began to implore her husband in her letters to return quickly.  Peter Andreich himself wished to see his son, but Ivan Petrovich merely sent letters in reply.  He thanked his father for what had been done for his wife, and for the money which had been sent to himself, and he promised to come home soon—­but he did not come.

At last the year 1812 recalled him from abroad.  On seeing each other for the first time after a separation of six years, the father and the son met in a warm embrace, and did not say a single word in reference to their former quarrels.  Nor was it a time for that.  All Russia was rising against the foe, and they both felt that Russian blood flowed in their veins, Peter Andreich equipped a whole regiment of volunteers at his own expense.  But the war ended; the danger passed away.  Ivan Petrovich once more became bored, once more he was allured into the distance, into that world in which he had grown up, and in which he felt himself at home.  Malania could not hold him back; she was valued at very little in his eyes.  Even what she really had hoped had not been fulfilled.  Like the rest, her husband thought that it was decidedly most expedient to confide Fedia’s education to Glafira.  Ivan’s poor wife could not bear up against this blow, could not endure this second separation.  Without a murmur, at the end of a few days, she quietly passed away.