He made this discovery through the cook Ustinia.  She was young, had no parents, and worked as hard as Alyosha.  He felt for the first time in his life that he—­not his services, but he himself—­was necessary to another human being.  When his mother used to be sorry for him, he had taken no notice of her.  It had seemed to him quite natural, as though he were feeling sorry for himself.  But here was Ustinia, a perfect stranger, and sorry for him.  She would save him some hot porridge, and sit watching him, her chin propped on her bare arm, with the sleeve rolled up, while he was eating it.  When he looked at her she would begin to laugh, and he would laugh too.

This was such a new, strange thing to him that it frightened Alyosha.  He feared that it might interfere with his work.  But he was pleased, nevertheless, and when he glanced at the trousers that Ustinia had mended for him, he would shake his head and smile.  He would often think of her while at work, or when running on errands.  “A fine girl, Ustinia!” he sometimes exclaimed.

Ustinia used to help him whenever she could, and he helped her.  She told him all about her life; how she had lost her parents; how her aunt had taken her in and found a place for her in the town; how the merchant’s son had tried to take liberties with her, and how she had rebuffed him.  She liked to talk, and Alyosha liked to listen to her.  He had heard that peasants who came up to work in the towns frequently got married to servant girls.  On one occasion she asked him if his parents intended marrying him soon.  He said that he did not know; that he did not want to marry any of the village girls.

“Have you taken a fancy to some one, then?”

“I would marry you, if you’d be willing.”

“Get along with you, Alyosha the Pot; but you’ve found your tongue, haven’t you?” she exclaimed, slapping him on the back with a towel she held in her hand.  “Why shouldn’t I?”

At Shrovetide Alyosha’s father came to town for his wages.  It had come to the ears of the merchant’s wife that Alyosha wanted to marry Ustinia, and she disapproved of it.  “What will be the use of her with a baby?” she thought, and informed her husband.

The merchant gave the old man Alyosha’s wages.

“How is my lad getting on?” he asked.  “I told you he was willing.”

“That’s all right, as far as it goes, but he’s taken some sort of nonsense into his head.  He wants to marry our cook.  Now I don’t approve of married servants.  We won’t have them in the house.”

“Well, now, who would have thought the fool would think of such a thing?” the old man exclaimed.  “But don’t you worry.  I’ll soon settle that.”

He went into the kitchen, and sat down at the table waiting for his son.  Alyosha was out on an errand, and came back breathless.

“I thought you had some sense in you; but what’s this you’ve taken into your head?” his father began.