Not long before the catastrophe that befell Petenka, Arina Petrovna, on one of her visits to Golovliovo, noticed a change in Yevpraksia. Brought up in the practices of serfdom, where the pregnancy of a domestic was the subject of a detailed and not uninteresting investigation, and was even considered an item of income, Arina Petrovna had a keen eye for such matters. She merely looked at Yevpraksia, and the girl, without saying a word, turned away her flushed face in full cognizance of her guilt. "Come now, come now, my lady. Look at me. Pregnant, eh?" the experienced old woman asked the young culprit. However, there was no reproach in her voice, on the contrary, it sounded jocose, almost gay, as if the old woman scented a whiff of the dear, good, old times. Yevpraksia, bashful and complacent, kept silence, but under Arina Petrovna's inquisitive look, the red of her cheeks deepened. "For some time I have been noticing that you walk kind of stiff, strutting about and twirling your skirts as if you were a respectable lady! But, my dear, you can't fool me with your strutting and twirling. I can see your girlish tricks five versts ahead! Is it the wind that puffed you up? Since when is it? Out with it now. Tell me all about it." A detailed inquiry ensued, followed by a no less detailed explanation. When had the first symptoms appeared? Had she a midwife in view? Did Porfiry Vladimirych know of the joy in store for him? Was Yevpraksia taking good care of herself? Was she careful not to lift anything heavy? The findings were that it was now the fifth month since Yevpraksia had been pregnant; that she had no midwife in view as yet; that Porfiry Vladimirych had been informed of the matter, but had said nothing. He had only folded his hands, mumbled something, and glanced at the ikon, to intimate that all is from God and that He, the Heavenly Father, provides for all occasions. Yevpraksia had been careless; she had lifted a samovar and had then and there felt that something inside of her snapped. "You've got brains, I must say," said Arina Petrovna in a grieved tone when the confession was out. "I see I'll have to look into the matter myself. Did you ever! A woman in the fifth month and hasn't even provided for a midwife! But why at least didn't you see Ulita about it, you fool, you?" "I was going to, but the master doesn't like Ulita, you know." "Nonsense, girl, nonsense! Whether Ulita offended the master or not has nothing at all to do with the case. He doesn't have to kiss her, does he? No, there is no way out of it. I'll have to take this thing in hand myself." It was on the tip of her tongue to complain that even in her old age she had hardships to bear, but the subject of the conversation was so attractive that she only parted her lips with a smack and continued: