In the end a truly tragical cry would burst from her lips. "And for whom am I hoarding all this wealth? For whom am I gathering all this? I deny myself sleep and food--for whom?" Such were the domestic circumstances of the Golovliovs at the time that the bailiff, Anton Vasilyev, reported to Arina Petrovna that Simple Simon had dissipated "the bone" flung to him, which, in view of its loss, might now be called with especial significance the "parental blessing." Arina Petrovna sat in her bedroom, all her senses dazed. A vague, unaccountable feeling stirred within her, whether pity, born suddenly and miraculously, for her hated offspring, who, after all, was her son, or whether merely thwarted despotism, the most expert psychologist would have been unable to decide. Her sensations were utterly confused and succeeded each other with bewildering swiftness. Finally, out of the welter of her thoughts there crystallized one emotion, the fear that "the horrid creature" would again be hanging round her neck. "Aniutka has forced her whelps on me, and now this dunderhead is coming here," she pondered deeply. Long she sat silent, her eyes fixed and intent. Dinner was brought in, but she hardly touched it; a servant came and said the master wanted brandy. Without looking up she threw him the keys of the store-room. After the meal she ordered the bath to be prepared for her. Then she went into the oratory, ordered all the image lamps to be lit, and shut herself in. These were all clear signs that the mistress was "in a temper," and so the house turned as quiet as a churchyard. The chambermaids walked on tiptoe; Akulina, the housekeeper, ran back and forth like a lunatic. The preparations for preserving had been set for after dinner; the berries had been rinsed and made ready, but the mistress gave no orders either to go ahead or to wait. The gardener, Matvey, came to ask whether it was time to gather the peaches, but such was his reception in the maids' room that he fled precipitately. Prayers and bath over, Arina Petrovna felt almost reconciled with the world and had the bailiff summoned again. "Now tell me, what is the numskull doing?" she asked. "Well, Moscow is big, it would take more than a year to walk through it." "But he needs something to fill his stomach with, doesn't he?" "Our peasants feed him. He eats with one, gets money for tobacco from another." "And who permits them to give him anything?" "Goodness me, madam! The people don't complain. They give alms to strangers. Should they refuse a mite to their own master's son?" "I'll teach them to give mites! I'll have the blockhead deported to your estate, and the community will have to maintain him at its own expense." "As you command, madam." "What? What did you say?" "As you command, my lady. If you order it, we shall feed him." "That's better. But talk sensibly."