But Ulita loved treachery too well to be content with the peace and quiet that had come with her "good living." That was when Pavel Vladimirych had become so addicted to drink that his end could readily be foreseen. Porfiry Vladimirych was alive to Ulita's priceless value at this juncture, and he snapped his fingers again and summoned her. He ordered her never for a moment to leave his prey, not to contradict Pavel in anything, not even in his hatred of his brother Porfiry, and by all means to eliminate the interference of Arina Petrovna. This had been one of those domestic crimes which Yudushka had a gift of perpetrating without previous deliberation, spontaneously, and as a matter of course. Needless to say, Ulita carried out his orders most faithfully. Pavel Vladimirych never ceased to hate his brother, and the more he hated him, the more he drank his vodka, and the less capable he became of heeding the remarks and advice of Arina Petrovna as to "making provisions." Every moment of the dying man, every word uttered were at once reported to Golovliovo, so that Yudushka, equipped with a full knowledge of the facts, could determine the exact moment he should have to leave his ambush and step in as master of the situation that he had created. And so he had! He had come to Dubrovino at the very moment that he could get the estate for the asking. Porfiry Vladimirych had rewarded Ulita's services by making her a gift of cloth for a woolen dress, but he never admitted her close to him. Again Ulita had been plunged from the heights of grandeur into the depths of inferno. It seemed to be her last fall. No one would snap his fingers again and summon her for service. As a sign of special favor and in consideration of her "nursing dear brother in his last days," she had been allotted a nook in the house where all the deserving old servants, who had remained after the abolition of serfdom, had found shelter. Here Ulita had become completely cowed, and when Porfiry Vladimirych made his choice of Yevpraksia, she not only had not shown any obstinacy, but had even been first to come to do homage to the master's love and had kissed her shoulder. And now, when she had given herself up as forgotten and abandoned, she struck luck once more in Yevpraksia's pregnancy. It was suddenly recalled that somewhere in the servants' room there was a handy person. Somebody snapped her fingers and summoned Ulita. True, it was not the master who had snapped his fingers. But that he offered no obstacles was in itself sufficient grace. Ulita celebrated her entry into the Golovliovo manor by taking the samovar from Yevpraksia's hands. Bending sidewise a bit, with the weight of it, she walked smartly into the dining-room, where Porfiry Vladimirych was already seated. The master said not a word. He even smiled, she thought, when upon another occasion, as she was bringing in the samovar, she shouted from a distance, "Step to one side, master, or I'll scald you."