Dead Souls

"Some forty miles, must be. What a pity there's nothing for you to eat! Wouldn't you take some tea, dearie?"

"Thank you, dearie. I need nothing but a bed."

"True, after such a journey one needs rest very badly. Settle yourself right here, dearie, on this sofa. Hey, Fetinya, bring a feather bed, pillows, and a sheet. What weather God has sent us: such thunder—I've had a candle burning in front of the icon all night. Eh, my dear, your back and side are all muddy as a hog's! Where'd you get yourself mucked up like that?"

"Thank God all the same that I only mucked myself up, I should be grateful I've still got all my ribs."

"Saints alive, what a fright! Maybe you should have your back rubbed with something?"

"Thank you, thank you. Don't trouble, but just order your girl to dry and brush my clothes."

"Do you hear, Fetinya!" said the mistress, addressing the woman who had come out to the porch with a candle, and who had now managed to bring a feather bed and plump it up with her hands, loosing a flood of feathers all over the room. "Take his coat and underwear and dry them first in front of the fire, as you used to do for the late master, and then brush them and give them a good beating."

"Yes, ma'am," Fetinya said, as she covered the feather bed and arranged the pillows.

"Well, there's your bed made up for you," said the mistress. "Good-bye, dearie, I wish you a good night. Is there anything else you need? Perhaps, my dear, you're used to having your heels scratched before bed? My late husband could never fall asleep without it."