"He's a devil in spectacles," he grumbled to himself and went to his sisters. Valeria was glad. "It's your happiness, Liudmilla," she said cheerfully. Liudmilla began to laugh. She threw herself back in a chair and laughed and laughed. "What shall I tell him?" asked Routilov. "Are you willing?" Liudmilla could not speak for laughing, and only waved her hands. "Of course she's willing," said Darya for her. "You'd better tell him at once, or else he may go off in a huff." Routilov entered the drawing-room and said in a whisper through the window: "Wait, she'll be ready at once." "Let her make haste," said Peredonov angrily. "Why are they so long?" Liudmilla was soon dressed. She was entirely ready in five minutes. Peredonov began to think about her. She was cheerful and plump. But she was a giggler. She would always be laughing at him. That was terrible. Darya, though she was lively, was more sober. But she was quite handsome. He had better take her. He knocked once more on the window. "There! he's knocking again," said Larissa. "I wonder if he wants you now, Darya?" "The devil!" said Routilov irritatedly, and ran to the window. "What now?" he asked in an angry whisper. "Have you thought it over again?" "Bring Darya," answered Peredonov. "Well, just wait!" whispered Routilov in a rage. Peredonov stood there and thought of Darya, and again his brief seductive vision of her was replaced by apprehension. She was too quick and impertinent. She would make life intolerable to him. "And what on earth's the good of standing here waiting," reflected Peredonov, "I might get a cold. And you can't tell, there may be someone hiding in the ditch or behind the grass, who'll suddenly jump out and murder me." Peredonov grew very depressed. Then again none of them had any dowry to speak of. That could command no patronage in the department of Education. Varvara would complain to the Princess. As it was the Head-Master was sharpening his teeth for Peredonov. Peredonov began to get vexed with himself. Why was he here, entangling himself with the Routilovs? It must be that Routilov had bewitched him. Yes, he must really have bewitched him! He must make a counter-charm at once. Peredonov twirled round on his heels, spat on each side of him and mumbled: "_Chure-churashki. Churki-balvashki, buki-bukashkii, vedi-tarakashki. Chure menya. Chure menya. Chure, chure, chure. Chure-perechure-raschiure_."[1] His face wore an expression of stern attention, as if at the carrying out of a dignified ceremony. After this indispensable action he felt himself out of danger of Routilov's spells. He struck the window decisively with his stick and muttered angrily: "I've had enough of this! I won't be enticed any further. No, I don't want to get married to-day," he announced to Routilov, whose head was thrust out of the window. "What on earth's the matter with you, Ardalyon Borisitch? Why, everything's ready!" said Routilov persuasively.