“All very well and good, and that’s what we’ll do.  Still we must wait until Mrs. Shaldin comes back.  Don’t you see, Abramka, I must have exactly the same style that she has?  Can’t you see, so that nobody can say that she is in the latest fashion?”

At this point Semyonov entered the room cautiously.  He was wearing the oddest-looking jacket and the captain’s old boots.  His hair was rumpled, and his eyes were shining suspiciously.  There was every sign that he had used the renewal of friendship with the doctor’s men as a pretext for a booze.

“I had to stand them some brandy, your Excellency,” he said saucily, but catching his mistress’s threatening look, he lowered his head guiltily.

“Idiot,” she yelled at him, “face about.  Be off with you to the kitchen.”

In his befuddlement, Semyonov had not noticed Abramka’s presence.  Now he became aware of him, faced about and retired to the kitchen sheepishly.

“What an impolite fellow,” said Abramka reproachfully.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe—­” said the captain’s wife, but instantly followed Semyonov into the kitchen.

Semyonov aware of his awful misdemeanour, tried to stand up straight and give a report.

“She will come back, your Excellency, day after to-morrow toward evening.  She sent a telegram.”

“Is that true now?”

“I swear it’s true.  Shuchok saw it himself.”

“All right, very good.  You will get something for this.”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

“Silence, you goose.  Go on, set the table.”

Abramka remained about ten minutes longer with the captain’s wife, and on leaving said: 

“Let me assure you once again, Mrs. Zarubkin, you needn’t worry; just select the style, and I will make a gown for you that the best tailor in Paris can’t beat.”  He pressed his hand to his heart in token of his intention to do everything in his power for Mrs. Zarubkin.

* * * * *

It was seven o’clock in the evening.  Mrs. Shaldin and her trunk had arrived hardly half an hour before, yet the captain’s wife was already there paying visit; which was a sign of the warm friendship that existed between the two women.  They kissed each other and fell to talking.  The doctor, a tall man of forty-five, seemed discomfited by the visit, and passed unfriendly side glances at his guest.  He had hoped to spend that evening undisturbed with his wife, and he well knew that when the ladies of the regiment came to call upon each other “for only a second,” it meant a whole evening of listening to idle talk.

“You wouldn’t believe me, dear, how bored I was the whole time you were away, how I longed for you, Natalie Semyonovna.  But you probably never gave us a thought.”

“Oh, how can you say anything like that.  I was thinking of you every minute, every second.  If I hadn’t been obliged to finish the cure, I should have returned long ago.  No matter how beautiful it may be away from home, still the only place to live is among those that are near and dear to you.”