Anninka wanted to rise and take leave, but a new tray appeared on the table, with two dishes on it, one of mushrooms, the other with bits of caviar, and a bottle of Madeira. "Do oblige us and have a bite--it's the best we have." Anninka obeyed and quickly swallowed some mushrooms, but refused the Madeira. "Another thing I meant to ask," continued the priest's wife, "we have a girl in our parish, the daughter of a peasant in the service of Lyshechevsky. She was the chambermaid of a certain actress in St. Petersburg. She says the life of an actress is very easy and pleasant, but an actress must produce a special passport every month. Is that true?" Anninka stared at her and did not understand. "That is for the greater freedom," explained the priest. "But I think she did not tell the truth. On the contrary, I heard that many actresses even get pensions from the government for their services." Anninka became convinced that matters were going from bad to worse, and she rose to take leave. "We thought you would give up acting now," the priest's wife persisted. "Why should I?" "Yes, but--you are a lady. You have reached your majority, you have an estate of your own--what could be better?" "And you are your uncle's heiress, you know," added the priest. "No, I sha'n't live here." "And how we were hoping for it! The father and I would often speak about our little mistress. We thought you would surely come to live at Pogorelka. In the summer it is very nice here. You can go to the woods and pick mushrooms," tempted the priest's wife. "We have mushrooms even in a dry summer, plenty of mushrooms," chimed the priest. At last Anninka left. When she reached Pogorelka, her first word was, "Horses! Please have the horses ready at once!" But Fedulych only shrugged his shoulders. "What's the use of shouting horses? We haven't fed them yet," he grumbled. "But why? Oh, my God, as if everybody were conspiring against me!" "That's it, we have conspired. How can you help conspiring if it's clear as day that we can't ride at night in thawing weather? Anyway, you'll get stranded in the mud a whole night, so it is better to be stranded at home, I think." Grandmother's apartments had been well heated. The bedroom had been prepared, and a samovar was puffing on the table. Afimyushka scraped together the remnants of tea at the bottom of Arina Petrovna's tea-caddy. While the tea was drawing, Fedulych stood at the door, his arms folded, facing the young mistress. Beside him stood the cattle woman and Morkovna looking as if at the first wave of the hand they were ready to flee for their lives. Fedulych was first to begin the conversation.