"Ask me no questions about anything,"--she ejaculated, with vivacity:--"I know nothing, I do not even know myself...." And she immediately beat a retreat. On the following day, Lavretzky arrived at the Kalitins' after dinner, and found all preparations made to have the All-Night Vigil service held there. In one corner of the dining-room, on a square table, covered with a clean cloth, small holy pictures in gold settings, with tiny, dull brilliants in their halos, were already placed, leaning against the wall. An old man-servant, in a grey frock-coat and slippers, walked the whole length of the room in a deliberate manner, and without making any noise with his heels, and placed two wax tapers in slender candlesticks in front of the holy images, crossed himself, made a reverence, and softly withdrew. The unlighted drawing-room was deserted. Lavretzky walked down the dining-room, and inquired--was it not some one's Name-day? He was answered, in a whisper, that it was not, but that the Vigil service had been ordered at the desire of Lizaveta Mikhailovna and Marfa Timofeevna; that the intention had been to bring thither the wonder-working _ikona_, but it had gone to a sick person, thirty versts distant. There soon arrived, also, in company with the chanters, the priest, a man no longer young, with a small bald spot, who coughed loudly in the anteroom; the ladies all immediately trooped in single file from the boudoir, and approached to receive his blessing; Lavretzky saluted him in silence; and he returned the salute in silence. The priest stood still for a short time, then cleared his throat again, and asked in a low tone, with a bass voice: "Do you command me to proceed?" "Proceed, batiushka,"--replied Marya Dmitrievna.