that; even I can realise that it is a picture cut from the very
life around me. In it I see our own Theresa (to go no further)
and the poor Tchinovnik--who is just such a man as this Samson
Virin, except for his surname of Gorshkov. The book describes
just what might happen to ourselves--to myself in particular.
Even a count who lives in the Nevski Prospect or in Naberezhnaia
Street might have a similar experience, though he might APPEAR to
be different, owing to the fact that his life is cast on a higher
plane. Yes, just the same things might happen to him--just the
same things. . . . Here you are wishing to go away and leave us;
yet, be careful lest it would not be I who had to pay the penalty
of your doing so. For you might ruin both yourself and me. For
the love of God, put away these thoughts from you, my darling,
and do not torture me in vain. How could you, my poor little
unfledged nestling, find yourself food, and defend yourself from
misfortune, and ward off the wiles of evil men? Think better of
it, Barbara, and pay no more heed to foolish advice and calumny,
but read your book again, and read it with attention. It may do
you much good.

I have spoken of Rataziaev's "The Station Overseer". However, the
author has told me that the work is old-fashioned, since,
nowadays, books are issued with illustrations and embellishments
of different sorts (though I could not make out all that he
said). Pushkin he adjudges a splendid poet, and one who has done
honour to Holy Russia. Read your book again, Barbara, and follow
my advice, and make an old man happy. The Lord God Himself will
reward you. Yes, He will surely reward you.--Your faithful
friend,