“Yes—one-legged and toothless, sir; that’s what you are!” “Yes, and one-eyed too!” shouted Maria Alexandrovna. “And what’s more, you wear stays instead of having your own ribs!” added Natalia Dimitrievna. “His face is all on wire springs!” “He hasn’t a hair of his own to swear by!” “Even the old fool’s moustache is stuck on!” put in Maria Alexandrovna. “Well, Ma—arie Alexandrovna, give me the credit of having a nose of my ve—ry own, at all events!” said the prince, overwhelmed with confusion under these unexpected disclosures. “My friend, it must have been you betrayed me! _you_ must have told them that my hair is stuck on?” “Uncle, what an idea, I——!” “My dear boy, I can’t stay here any lon—ger, take me away somewhere—_quelle société_! Where have you brought me to, eh?—Gracious Hea—eaven, what dreadful soc—iety!” “Idiot! scoundrel!” shrieked Maria Alexandrovna. “Goodness!” said the unfortunate old prince. “I can’t quite remember just now what I came here for at all—I suppose I shall reme—mber directly. Take me away, quick, my boy, or I shall be torn to pieces here! Besides, I have an i—dea that I want to make a note of——” “Come along, uncle—it isn’t very late; I’ll take you over to an hotel at once, and I’ll move over my own things too.” “Ye—yes, of course, a ho—tel! Good-bye, my charming child; you alone, you—are the only vir—tuous one of them all; you are a no—oble child. Good-bye, my charming girl! Come along, my friend;—oh, good gra—cious, what people!” I will not attempt to describe the end of this disagreeable scene, after the prince’s departure. The guests separated in a hurricane of scolding and abuse and mutual vituperation, and Maria Alexandrovna was at last left alone amid the ruins and relics of her departed glory. Alas, alas! Power, glory, weight—all had disappeared in this one unfortunate evening. Maria Alexandrovna quite realised that there was no chance of her ever again mounting to the height from which she had now fallen. Her long preeminence and despotism over society in general had collapsed. What remained to her? Philosophy? She was wild with the madness of despair all night! Zina was dishonoured—scandals would circulate, never-ceasing scandals; and—oh! it was dreadful! As a faithful historian, I must record that poor Afanassy was the scapegoat this night; he “caught it” so terribly that he eventually disappeared; he had hidden himself in the garret, and was there starved to death almost, with cold, all night. The morning came at last; but it brought nothing good with it! Misfortunes never come singly. CHAPTER XV. If fate makes up its mind to visit anyone with misfortune, there is no end to its malice! This fact has often been remarked by thinkers; and, as if the ignominy of last night were not enough, the same malicious destiny had prepared for this family more, yea, and worse—evils to come!