“Perhaps you forget that it is your duty to do so,” was the disconcerting reply. “When you married my brother you did so with your eyes open. He did not conceal from you that the condition of his peasants was very near his heart. I know that he went so far as to disclose to you the various generous plans he has formed for checking the general spirit of unrest fostered by the imported--I advisedly say imported, since most of it comes from Germany--revolutionary literature and revolutionary counsels, that will in time cause irreparable harm. So I fear that either you should have accepted the bitter with the sweet and helped him in his self-imposed task, or else refused to share a high position and high ideals you felt yourself unable to attain.” “I do not see that at all!” declared Laurence. “You do not! That is obvious; but the hour has come when you should, however.” “Do you imagine,” Laurence exclaimed, shifting the issue, “that it is agreeable, whenever one shows oneself outside one’s own castle grounds, to hear the contemptuous ‘_Tfou!_’--whatever that means--spat at you, even by the children?” “I cannot tell you how it feels, never having been subjected to any insult, great or small.” “Of course you are of this country. They--the _mujiks_ I mean--belonged to you when they were serfs--so they like and respect you.” “Which speaks very well for us ex-serf owners, if you will allow me to say so?” “Possibly. I don’t try to deny it. But I have never been a slave-driver, and lack all knowledge of the ropes.” Tatiana gave vent to a curt laugh. “Slave-driving would not, I think, be quite out of your line, my dear; but let that pass. There’s no need for us to quarrel. In any case, I do not quite understand what you are trying to get at!” “Plainly spoken, I’m trying to get at this: I want to go away from here, once and for all, and I hope you will not interfere with my doing so.” “I shall most certainly do nothing to help you in that respect!” Tatiana replied, bending forward to rub her hands at the fire, for, what between driving and cuffing, her fingers were still rather stiff and sore. “Why not?” questioned Laurence, tilting her nose impertinently. “Because in this benighted land we still believe in the wife’s being subject to her husband, or at least in her awaiting his advice before hazarding some such step as you propose. Basil is away, and in his absence and that of our other brothers, I am the Head of our family here; therefore I refuse to concur in such an action on your part, should you again attempt to bolt.” “Then am I to understand that you propose to become my jailer in your brother’s stead?”