But Gavrik had a character quite his own. While he listened to her flood of comments he preserved a complete indifference. Especially when she was rummaging about among the upper shelves, and holding up her skirts, Gavrik would look mischievously at his master. When he addressed her it was roughly and without any sign of respect, and when she departed he would remark: "There goes the plover at last." "You mustn't speak of your mistress like that," said Ilya, trying to hide a smile. "What sort of a mistress is she?" answered Gavrik. "She comes here and chatters, and hops off again! You--are the master." "She is, too," said Ilya feebly, for he liked the honourable, high-spirited lad. "Ah; she's a plover," insisted Gavrik. "You teach that youngster nothing," said Madame Avtonomov to Ilya on another occasion. "And I must say, frankly, that lately everything seems carried on without enthusiasm, with no love for the work." Lunev said nothing, but in his soul he hated her so that he thought: "I wish to goodness, you she-devil, you'd break your leg; coming skipping about here." One day he received a letter from his uncle, and learnt that Terenti had not only been to Kiev, but also the Sergius Monastery and in Valvam. He had nearly gone to Solovky, on the Dvina, but had abandoned that pilgrimage, and expected soon to reach home again. "Another joy," thought Ilya bitterly. "He'll come here to live for certain." He considered eagerly how to arrange that his uncle should live alone. But he had little time for thought; customers came in, and while he was busy with them, Gavrik's sister appeared. She seemed tired and out of breath, greeted him, and asked, nodding at the door of the room behind: "Is there any water there?" "I'll get it," said Ilya. "No, I'll go." She went into the room and stayed there till Lunev had finished with his customers, and followed her. He found her standing before the "Steps of Man's Life." Turning her head towards him, she said, indicating the picture: "What awful taste!" Confused by the remark, Ilya smiled, and felt somewhat guilty. "Burr! What middle-class sentiment!" she repeated with disgust, and before he could ask for an explanation she was gone. A few days later she brought her brother some new linen, and reproved him for being careless with his clothes, tearing and soiling them. "Well," said Gavrik, crossly. "That's enough. That woman's always on at me, and now you're beginning." "What's the matter with him? Is he very rude?" she asked Ilya at this. "N--no. He doesn't mean to be," answered Ilya kindly. "I--I always keep quite quiet!" said the boy. "His tongue goes a little fast!" said Ilya. "Do you hear?" asked his sister, knitting her brows. "Oh, yes, I hear!" cried Gavrik crossly. "It doesn't matter much," said Ilya good-humouredly. "A man who can show his teeth has always an advantage over the rest. A man who bears blows silently gets beaten to his grave by the stupid people."