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different branches； it was the serf who especially attracted his
attention。 The peasant seemed to him not merely a tool； but also a
judge of farming and an end in himself。 At first he watched the serfs；
trying to understand their aims and what they considered good and bad；
and only pretended to direct them and give orders while in reality
learning from them their methods； their manner of speech； and their
judgment of what was good and bad。 Only when he had understood the
peasants' tastes and aspirations； had learned to talk their
language； to grasp the hidden meaning of their words； and felt akin to
them did he begin boldly to manage his serfs； that is； to perform
toward them the duties demanded of him。 And Nicholas' management
produced very brilliant results。
Guided by some gift of insight； on taking up the management of the
estates he at once unerringly appointed as bailiff； village elder； and
delegate； the very men the serfs would themselves have chosen had they
had the right to choose； and these posts never changed hands。 Before
analyzing the properties of manure； before entering into the debit and
credit （as he ironically called it）； he found out how many cattle
the peasants had and increased the number by all possible means。 He
kept the peasant families together in the largest groups possible； not
allowing the family groups to divide into separate households。 He
was hard alike on the lazy； the depraved； and the weak； and tried to
get them expelled from the commune。
He was as careful of the sowing and reaping of the peasants' hay and
corn as of his own； and few landowners had their crops sown and
harvested so early and so well； or got so good a return； as did
Nicholas。
He disliked having anything to do with the domestic serfs… the
〃drones〃 as he called them… and everyone said he spoiled them by his
laxity。 When a decision had to be taken regarding a domestic serf；
especially if one had to be punished； he always felt undecided and
consulted everybody in the house； but when it was possible to have a
domestic serf conscripted instead of a land worker he did so without
the least hesitation。 He never felt any hesitation in dealing with the
peasants。 He knew that his every decision would be approved by them
all with very few exceptions。
He did not allow himself either to be hard on or punish a man； or to
make things easy for or reward anyone； merely because he felt inclined
to do so。 He could not have said by what standard he judged what he
should or should not do； but the standard was quite firm and
definite in his own mind。
Often； speaking with vexation of some failure or irregularity； he
would say： 〃What can one do with our Russian peasants？〃 and imagined
that he could not bear them。
Yet he loved 〃our Russian peasants〃 and their way of life with his
whole soul； and for that very reason had understood and assimilated
the one way and manner of farming which produced good results。
Countess Mary was jealous of this passion of her husband's and
regretted that she could not share it； but she could not understand
the joys and vexations he derived from that world； to her so remote
and alien。 She could not understand why he was so particularly
animated and happy when； after getting up at daybreak and spending the
whole morning in the fields or on the threshing floor； he returned
from the sowing or mowing or reaping to have tea with her。 She did not
understand why he spoke with such admiration and delight of the
farming of the thrifty and well…to…do peasant Matthew Ermishin； who
with his family had carted corn all night； or of the fact that his
（Nicholas'） sheaves were already stacked before anyone else had his
harvest in。 She did not understand why he stepped out from the
window to the veranda and smiled under his mustache and winked so
joyfully； when warm steady rain began to fall on the dry and thirsty
shoots of the young oats； or why when the wind carried away a
threatening cloud during the hay harvest he would return from the
barn； flushed； sunburned； and perspiring； with a smell of wormwood and
gentian in his hair and； gleefully rubbing his hands； would say：
〃Well； one more day and my grain and the peasants' will all be under
cover。〃
Still less did she understand why he； kindhearted and always ready
to anticipate her wishes； should become almost desperate when she
brought him a petition from some peasant men or women who had appealed
to her to be excused some work； why he； that kind Nicholas； should
obstinately refuse her； angrily asking her not to interfere in what
was not her business。 She felt he had a world apart； which he loved
passionately and which had laws she had not fathomed。
Sometimes when； trying to understand him； she spoke of the good work
he was doing for his serfs； he would be vexed and reply： 〃Not in the
least； it never entered my head and I wouldn't do that for their good！
That's all poetry and old wives' talk… all that doing good to one's
neighbor！ What I want is that our children should not have to go
begging。 I must put our affairs in order while I am alive； that's all。
And to do that； order and strictness are essential。。。。 That's all
about it！〃 said he； clenching his vigorous fist。 〃And fairness； of
course；〃 he added； 〃for if the peasant is naked and hungry and has
only one miserable horse； he can do no good either for himself or
for me。〃
And all Nicholas did was fruitful… probably just because he
refused to allow himself to think that he was doing good to others for
virtue's sake。 His means increased rapidly； serfs from neighboring
estates came to beg him to buy them； and long after his death the
memory of his administration was devoutly preserved among the serfs。
〃He was a master。。。 the peasants' affairs first and then his own。 Of
course he was not to be trifled with either… in a word； he was a
real master！〃
EP1｜CH8
CHAPTER VIII
One matter connected with his management sometimes worried Nicholas；
and that was his quick temper together with his old hussar habit of
making free use of his fists。 At first he saw nothing reprehensible in
this； but in the second year of his marriage his view of that form
of punishment suddenly changed。
Once in summer he had sent for the village elder from Bogucharovo； a
man who had succeeded to the post when Dron died and who was accused
of dishonesty and various irregularities。 Nicholas went out into the
porch to question him； and immediately after the elder had given a few
replies the sound of cries and blows were heard。 On returning to lunch
Nicholas went up to his wife； who sat with her head bent low over
her embroidery frame； and as usual began to tell her what he had
been doing that morning。 Among other things he spoke of the
Bogucharovo elder。 Countess Mary turned red and then pale； but
continued to sit with head bowed and lips compressed and gave her
husband no reply。
〃Such an insolent scoundrel！〃 he cried； growing hot again at the
mere recollection of him。 〃If he had told me he was drunk and did
not see。。。 But what is the matter with you； Mary？〃 he suddenly asked。
Countess Mary raised her head and tried to speak； but hastily looked
down again and her lips puckered。
〃Why； whatever is the matter； my dearest？〃
The looks of the plain Countess Mary always improved when she was in
tears。 She never cried from pain or vexation； but always from sorrow
or pity； and when she wept her radiant eyes acquired an irresistible
charm。
The moment Nicholas took her hand she could no longer restrain
herself and began to cry。
〃Nicholas； I saw it。。。 he was to blame； but why do you。。。 Nicholas！〃
and she covered her face with her hands。
Nicholas said nothing。 He flushed crimson； left her side； and
paced up and down the room。 He understood what she was weeping
about； but could not in his heart at once agree with her that what
he had regarded from childhood as quite an everyday event was wrong。
〃Is it just sentimentality； old wives' tales； or is she right？〃 he
asked himself。 Before he had solved that point he glanced again at her
face filled with love and pain； and he suddenly realized that she
was right and that he had long been sinning against himself。
〃Mary；〃 he said softly； going up to her； 〃it will never happen
again； I give you my word。 Never；〃 he repeated in a trembling voice
like a boy asking for forgiveness。
The tears flowed faster still from the countess' eyes。 She took
his hand and kissed it。
〃Nicholas； when when did you break your cameo？〃 she asked to
change the subject； looking at his finger on which he wore a ring with
a cameo of Laocoon's head。
〃Today… it was the same affair。 Oh； Mary； don't remind me of it！〃
and again he flushed。 〃I give you my word of honor it shan't occur
again； and let this always be a reminder to me；〃 and he pointed to the
broken ring。
After that； when in discussions with his village elder