The position seemed hopeless. But in the Oblonskys' household,

as in all families indeed, there was one inconspicuous but most

valuable and useful person, Marya Philimonovna. She soothed her

mistress, assured her that everything would _come round_ (it was

her expression, and Matvey had borrowed it from her), and without

fuss or hurry proceeded to set to work herself. She had

immediately made friends with the bailiff's wife, and on the very

first day she drank tea with her and the bailiff under the

acacias, and reviewed all the circumstances of the position.

Very soon Marya Philimonovna had established her club, so to say,

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under the acacias, and there it was, in this club, consisting of

the bailiff's wife, the village elder, and the counting house

clerk, that the difficulties of existence were gradually smoothed

away, and in a week's time everything actually had come round.

The roof was mended, a kitchen maid was found--a crony of the

village elder's--hens were bought, the cows began giving milk,

the garden hedge was stopped up with stakes, the carpenter made a

mangle, hooks were put in the cupboards, and they ceased to burst

open spontaneously, and an ironing-board covered with army cloth

was placed across from the arm of a chair to the chest of

drawers, and there was a smell of flatirons in the maids' room.

"Just see, now, and you were quite in despair," said Marya

Philimonovna, pointing to the ironing-board. They even rigged up

a bathing-shed of straw hurdles. Lily began to bathe, and Darya

Alexandrovna began to realize, if only in part, her expectations,

if not of a peaceful, at least of a comfortable, life in the

country. Peaceful with six children Darya Alexandrovna could not

be. One would fall ill, another might easily become so, a third

would be without something necessary, a fourth would show

symptoms of a bad disposition, and so on. Rare indeed were the

brief periods of peace. But these cares and anxieties were for

Darya Alexandrovna the sole happiness possible. Had it not been

for them, she would have been left alone to brood over her

husband who did not love her. And besides, hard though it was

for the mother to bear the dread of illness, the illnesses

themselves, and the grief of seeing signs of evil propensities in

her children--the children themselves were even now repaying her

in small joys for her sufferings. Those joys were so small that

they passed unnoticed, like gold in sand, and at bad moments she

could see nothing but the pain, nothing but sand; but there were

good moments too when she saw nothing but the joy, nothing but

gold.




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