An additional bit of evidence came to me a week or two later.  One morning, on going into the priest’s house, I found that he had a friend with him—­the priest of a village some fifteen miles off.  Before we had got through the ordinary conventional remarks about the weather and the crops, a peasant drove up to the door in his cart with a message that an old peasant was dying in a neighbouring village, and desired the last consolations of religion.  Batushka was thus obliged to leave us, and his friend and I agreed to stroll leisurely in the direction of the village to which he was going, so as to meet him on his way home.  The harvest was already finished, so that our road, after emerging from the village, lay through stubble-fields.  Beyond this we entered the pine forest, and by the time we had reached this point I had succeeded in leading the conversation to the subject of clerical marriages.

“I have been thinking a good deal on this subject,” I said, “and I should very much like to know your opinion about the system.”

My new acquaintance was a tall, lean, black-haired man, with a sallow complexion and vinegar aspect—­evidently one of those unhappy mortals who are intended by Nature to take a pessimistic view of all things, and to point out to their fellows the deep shadows of human life.  I was not at all surprised, therefore, when he replied in a deep, decided tone, “Bad, very bad—­utterly bad!”

The way in which these words were pronounced left no doubt as to the opinion of the speaker, but I was desirous of knowing on what that opinion was founded—­more especially as I seemed to detect in the tone a note of personal grievance.  My answer was shaped accordingly.

“I suspected that; but in the discussions which I have had I have always been placed at a disadvantage, not being able to adduce any definite facts in support of my opinion.”

“You may congratulate yourself on being unable to find any in your own experience.  A mother-in-law living in the house does not conduce to domestic harmony.  I don’t know how it is in your country, but so it is with us.”

I hastened to assure him that this was not a peculiarity of Russia.

“I know it only too well,” he continued.  “My mother-in-law lived with me for some years, and I was obliged at last to insist on her going to another son-in-law.”

“Rather selfish conduct towards your brother-in-law,” I said to myself, and then added audibly, “I hope you have thus solved the difficulty satisfactorily.”

“Not at all.  Things are worse now than they were.  I agreed to pay her three roubles a month, and have regularly fulfilled my promise, but lately she has thought it not enough, and she made a complaint to the Bishop.  Last week I went to him to defend myself, but as I had not money enough for all the officials in the Consistorium, I could not obtain justice.  My mother-in-law had made all sorts of absurd accusations against me, and consequently I was laid under an inhibition for six weeks!”