At last, having summoned the _staròstá_ and called him severely to account, declaring to him that she would send for a _sotnia_ of Kossàks should he prove incapable of keeping his people quiet--a terrible menace indeed--Tatiana swallowed a hasty breakfast, and then bent her calm and inexorable steps toward Laurence’s room. She found that young lady sitting in front of a roaring log-fire, wrapped in a gallant _négligé_ of the most daintily flowered silk, her hair in unbound glory, and on her face an expression of almost fiendish ill-temper. As her sister-in-law entered she rose and bowed slightly, omitting, no doubt by an oversight, to thank her for the timely arrival to which she probably owed her life. Indeed, her attitude was that of an unjustly accused and badly treated prisoner standing before his judge, rather than that of a grateful relative receiving her rescuer. “I am sorry you had such a bad time of it this morning,” Tatiana said, pleasantly. “If you’ll allow me to do so, I will sit down and talk the matter over with you a bit.” And suiting the action to the words, she possessed herself of a _chauffeuse_ at the other side of the hearth and looked steadily into Laurence’s sulky eyes. “There’s nothing to discuss,” the latter said, shortly, dismissing Célèste from the room with a nod. “I sent for you to protect me from infuriated beasts to whose ways you are better used than I. I am obliged to you for coming so promptly. That is, I think, all there is to be said.” Tatiana, gazing into the dancing flames, smiled. She had not expected to find her brother’s wife in a chastened mood, and was not disappointed. As to gratitude, she well knew that this quality would be lacking from any and every thought of this surprisingly heartless girl. “I am glad I was in time,” she quietly remarked. “Our peasants, however, are not beasts, though they are apt to become a little too impulsive when egged on--and there is no doubt that they are being periodically egged on--by an ever-increasing horde of professional agitators; also they require a firm and kind hand on the reins at any season. This being so, I am afraid you acted unwisely when you refused to interest yourself in their welfare.” “Why should I interest myself in their affairs at all?” Laurence asked, with surprising disdain. “I see no reason why I should.”