_Karp._ What should I listen for? It’s not worth while when _you_ talk. Ah-h-h-, Oulìta Nikìtishna! (_Threatens with his finger._) You were told to hold your tongue! I want the lass to feel what I’m doing for her; and here you come in with your chattering!... (MATRYÒNA _hides her face with the other sleeve_.) She’s only my second cousin twice removed, and yet I give her a dowry. I’m the benefactor of all my kindred. There’s another little one; I shall take her in Matryòna’s place, and bring her up, and settle her in life. (_Silence._) _Oulìta._ Are you quite sure he will love you, my dear? _Serafima._ Why not, mamma? There’s nothing objectionable in my character. The only thing is ... when I was at boarding-school they used to say that I had no comprehension of music whatsoever, and that I was dreamy, and given to meditating about nothing; and then, I’m very fond of sweets—perhaps he won’t notice that though. There is one thing more: I’m very bad at counting silver money—— _Karp._ Oh, that’s nothing! You’ll soon get into it. _Serafima._ Perhaps he won’t like my being economical; but then, how could I manage otherwise? I only try to live within my income, and not run into my capital. What should I be without capital? I should have no value at all! _Karp._ Of course not! _Serafima._ And I know how to add up interest—on paper; I was taught that at boarding-school. I can’t do it without paper, though. (_Meditates._) _Oulìta._ What are you thinking about, child?... Why, what a silly I am! It’s not much wonder that you think, poor girl! Such a change in your life! And there’s no telling beforehand how it’ll turn out. _Serafima._ No, mamma, it’s not that. I’ve just been buying some ribbon—seven ells at eighty kopecks, paper money; and I was just thinking how much that would be in silver money, and how much change I ought to have from three roubles. (_Takes out purse and looks into it._) _Karp._ Rouble sixty kopecks—one rouble forty change. _Serafima._ Are you sure, papa? _Karp._ Why, bless the girl, what else could it be? _Serafima_ (_puts back purse_). All right. _Oulìta._ Are you sure he doesn’t drink? _Karp._ There you are again! Everybody drinks nowadays. _Oulìta._ I mean, you’d better ask what he’s like when he’s drunk. _Karp._ Ah! that’s another matter! _Oulìta._ Because, you know, some people are so quiet in drink that it really doesn’t matter. It’s just as if they weren’t drunk. _Serafima._ All right, mamma; I’ll ask. I must go now. _Oulìta._ Oh, no! You mus’n’t, indeed; stop a bit. You’re so fond of sweet things.... We’ve got some splendid fruit. Run and fetch it, Matryòna; it’s on my bedroom window-sill. (MATRYÒNA _goes out, comes back with fruit, offers it to_ SERAFÌMA, _and then places it on table_.) Take some, dear child; take some. Won’t you have some liqueur? _Serafima._ Really, mamma! _Oulìta._ Have a glass of beer, darling. _Serafima._ You know I never drink it. _Oulìta._ Well then, mead?