seeing that the time had arrived for amusing the guests with agreeable conversation, turned round and asked:
"But where is Ekemovna? Summon her hither."
Several servants were about to rush off in different directions, but at that moment an old woman, painted white and red, decorated with flowers and tinsel, in a silk gown with a low neck, entered, singing and dancing. Her appearance produced general satisfaction.
"Good-day, Ekemovna," said Prince Likoff: "how do you do?"
" Quite well and happy, gossip: still singing and dancing and looking out for sweethearts."
"Where have you been, fool?" asked the host.
"Decorating myself, gossip, for the dear guests, for this holy day, by order of the Czar, by command of my master, to be a laughing-stock for everybody after the German manner."
At these words there arose a loud burst of laughter, and the fool took her place behind the host's chair.
"A fool talks nonsense, but sometimes speaks the truth," said Tatiana Afanassievna, the eldest sister of the host, and for whom he entertained great respect. "As a matter of fact, the present fashion must seem ridiculous in the eyes of everybody. But since you, gentlemen, have shaved off your beards[1] and put on short caftans, it is, of course, useless to talk about women's rags, although it is really a pity about the sarafan, the maiden's ribbons, and the povoinik![2] It is pitiable and at the same time laughable, to see the beauties of to-day: their hair frizzed like tow, greased and covered with French powder; the waist drawn in to such a degree,
