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'But tell me the truth, Luka Petrovitch, I said to him, among other things; 'weren't things better of old, in your time? 'In some ways, certainly, things were better, I should say, replied Ovsyanikov; 'we lived more easily; there was a greater abundance of everything. ... All the same, things are better now, and they will be better still for your children, please God.
His coachman, a young, rosy- cheeked fellow, his hair cut round like a basin, in a dark blue coat with a strap round the waist, sat respectfully beside him. Ovsyanikov always had a nap after dinner and visited the bath-house on Saturdays; he read none but religious books and used gravely to fix his round silver spectacles on his nose when he did so; he got up, and went to bed early.
He's as broad as he's long, and a face like this God bless him! and bearded, though he is so young.... Well, God knows! And Ovsyanikov gave a deep sigh. 'Come, putting the nobles aside, I began, 'what have you to tell me about the peasant proprietors, Luka Petrovitch? 'No, you must let me off that, he said hurriedly.
The rattle of a racing droshky sounded in the drive, and in a few minutes a tall, broad-shouldered and stoutly made man, the peasant proprietor, Ovsyanikov, came into the room. But Ovsyanikov is such a remarkable and original personage that, with the reader's permission, we will put off speaking about him till the next sketch.
It was this same Lejeune, or rather, as he is called now, Frantz Ivanitch, who, when I was there, came in to see Ovsyanikov, with whom he was on friendly terms.... But perhaps the reader is already weary of sitting with me at the Ovsyanikovs', and so I will become eloquently silent.
Tatyana Ilyinitchna went out after him. 'Give him some tea, you soft-hearted creature, cried Ovsyanikov after her. 'He's not a stupid fellow, he continued, 'and he's a good heart, but I feel afraid for him.... But pardon me for having so long kept you occupied with such details. The door from the hall opened. A short grizzled little man came in, in a velvet coat.
Ovsyanikov was an exception to the general rule, though he did not pass for a wealthy man. He lived alone with his wife in a clean and comfortable little house, kept a few servants, whom he dressed in the Russian style and called his 'workmen. They were employed also in ploughing his land.
'Well, you see, continued Ovsyanikov in a calm voice as he got up from the ground, 'I told you so. He had found a wife to match him. Tatyana Ilyinitchna Ovsyanikov was a tall woman, dignified and taciturn, always dressed in a cinnamon-coloured silk dress.
So they reported to your grandfather that "Piotr Ovsyanikov is making a complaint against you that you were pleased to take away his land." Your grandfather at once sent his huntsman Baush with a detachment of men.... Well, they seized my father, and carried him to your estate. I was a little boy at that time; I ran after him barefoot. What happened?
Ovsyanikov drank cup after cup with gravity and deliberation. 'Mitya has been to see us to-day, said Tatyana Ilyinitchna in a low voice. Ovsyanikov frowned. 'What does he want? 'He came to ask forgiveness. Ovsyanikov shook his head. 'Come, tell me, he went on, turning to me, 'what is one to do with relations?
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