'I shan't go to see that old tub. He gives you costly fish and puts rancid butter on it. God bless him!' 'And I met Fedosya Mihalovna.' 'What Fedosya is that?' 'She belongs to Garpentchenko, the landowner, who bought Mikulino by auction. Fedosya is from Mikulino. She lived in Moscow as a dress-maker, paying her service in money, and she paid her service-money accurately--a hundred and eighty two-roubles and a half a year.... And she knows her business; she got good orders in Moscow. But now Garpentchenko has written for her back, and he retains her here, but does not provide any duties for her. She would be prepared to buy her freedom, and has spoken to the master, but he will not give any decisive answer. You, uncle, are acquainted with Garpentchenko ... so couldn't you just say a word to him?... And Fedosya would give a good price for her freedom.' 'Not with your money I hope? Hey? Well, well, all right; I will speak to him, I will speak to him. But I don't know,' continued the old man with a troubled face; 'this Garpentchenko, God forgive him! is a shark; he buys up debts, lends money at interest, purchases estates at auctions.... And who brought him into our parts? Ugh, I can't bear these new-comers! One won't get an answer out of him very quickly.... However, we shall see.' 'Try to manage it, uncle.' 'Very well, I will see to it. Only you take care; take care of yourself! There, there, don't defend yourself.... God bless you! God bless you!... Only take care for the future, or else, Mitya, upon my word, it will go ill with you.... Upon my word, you will come to grief.... I can't always screen you ... and I myself am not a man of influence. There, go now, and God be with you!' Mitya went away. Tatyana Ilyinitchna went out after him. 'Give him some tea, you soft-hearted creature,' cried Ovsyanikov after her. 'He's not a stupid fellow,' he continued, 'and he's a good heart, but I feel afraid for him.... But pardon me for having so long kept you occupied with such details.' The door from the hall opened. A short grizzled little man came in, in a velvet coat. 'Ah, Frantz Ivanitch!' cried Ovsyanikov, 'good day to you. Is God merciful to you?' Allow me, gentle reader, to introduce to you this gentleman.