“Good evening, Agatha Michaelovna,” said Basil, rising to greet her.

“You here?” she answered brusquely as she stared at him, “That is not very much to your credit.  What do you come here for?  Is the maids’ room a proper place for men?”

“I wanted to see how you were,” said Basil soothingly.

“I shall soon be breathing my last—­that’s how I am!” cried Gasha, still greatly incensed.

Basil laughed.

“Oh, there’s nothing to laugh at when I say that I shall soon be dead.  But that’s how it will be, all the same.  Just look at the drunkard!  Marry her, would he?  The fool!  Come, get out of here!” and, with a stamp of her foot on the floor, Gasha retreated to her own room, and banged the door behind her until the window rattled again.  For a while she could be heard scolding at everything, flinging dresses and other things about, and pulling the ears of her favourite cat.  Then the door opened again, and puss, mewing pitifully, was flung forth by the tail.

“I had better come another time for tea,” said Basil in a whisper—­“at some better time for our meeting.”

“No, no!” put in Madesha.  “I’ll go and fetch the urn at once.”

“I mean to put an end to things soon,” went on Basil, seating himself beside Masha as soon as ever Madesha had left the room.  “I had much better go straight to the Countess, and say ‘so-and-so’ or I will throw up my situation and go off into the world.  Oh dear, oh dear!”

“And am I to remain here?”

“Ah, there’s the difficulty—­that’s what I feel so badly about, You have been my sweetheart so long, you see.  Ah, dear me!”

“Why don’t you bring me your shirts to wash, Basil?” asked Masha after a pause, during which she had been inspecting his wrist-bands.

At this moment Grandmamma’s bell rang, and Gasha issued from her room again.

“What do you want with her, you impudent fellow?” she cried as she pushed Basil (who had risen at her entrance) before her towards the door.  “First you lead a girl on, and then you want to lead her further still.  I suppose it amuses you to see her tears.  There’s the door, now.  Off you go!  We want your room, not your company.  And what good can you see in him?” she went on, turning to Masha.  “Has not your uncle been walking into you to-day already?  No; she must stick to her promise, forsooth!  ‘I will have no one but Basil,’ Fool that you are!”

“Yes, I will have no one but him!  I’ll never love any one else!  I could kill myself for him!” poor Masha burst out, the tears suddenly gushing forth.

For a while I stood watching her as she wiped away those tears.  Then I fell to contemplating Basil attentively, in the hope of finding out what there was in him that she found so attractive; yet, though I sympathised with her sincerely in her grief, I could not for the life of me understand how such a charming creature as I considered her to be could love a man like him.