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they felt a kind of satisfaction in shewing her
their contempt, and in offending her where they
could. But now it was the reverse; all of a
sudden she had become a suffering victim, the
subject of general sympathy. There was a secret
protest against Ivan Sergejevitsch’s exaggerated
severity.
‘Of course she had done wrong,’ they admitted,
when gossiping with Njania in the nursery,
which they used to do after all important events.
‘If the general himself or her ladyship had
punished her, as they do in other houses, it
wouldn’t have been so bad, anybody could put
up with that! But the idea of making her kiss
the hand of that brat Fekluscha! Who could
survive such shame?’
It took Maria Vasiljevna a long time to
recover. Her attacks kept returning at intervals
of a few hours. A doctor had to be sent for.
Pity for the patient, and anger with the master,
increased among the servants. Elena Paulovna
came to the nursery where Njania was making
tea at an unusual hour. ‘For whom is that,
Njania?’ her mistress asked innocently.
‘Of course for Maria Vasiljevna. I suppose
she must be allowed to have a cup of tea when
she is ill? We servants, at least, have got some
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