She did not
please me very much at first sight; I looked at her with prejudice.
Chvabrine had described Marya, the Commandant's daughter, to me as being
rather silly. She went and sat down in a corner, and began to sew. Still
the "_chtchi_"[40] had been brought in. Vassilissa Igorofna, not seeing
her husband come back, sent Palashka for the second time to call him.
"Tell the master that the visitors are waiting, and the soup is getting
cold. Thank heaven, the drill will not run away. He will have plenty of
time to shout as much as he likes."
The Commandant soon appeared, accompanied by the little old one-eyed
man.
"What does all this mean, my little father?" said his wife to him.
"Dinner has been ready a long time, and we cannot make you come."
"But don't you see, Vassilissa Igorofna," replied Ivan Kouzmitch, "I
was very busy drilling my little soldiers."
"Nonsense," replied she, "that's only a boast; they are past service,
and you don't know much about it. You should have stayed at home, and
said your prayers; that would have been much better for you. My dear
guests, pray sit down to table."
We took our places. Vassilissa Igorofna never ceased talking for a
moment, and overwhelmed me with questions.
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