luncheon, and even dessert, gave me much to think about. If they had
sent me no dessert, it would have meant that my punishment was to be
limited to confinement; whereas it was now evident that I was looked
upon as not yet punished--that I was only being kept away from the
others, as an evil-doer, until the due time of punishment. While I was
still debating the question, the key of my prison turned, and St. Jerome
entered with a severe, official air.

"Come down and see your Grandmamma," he said without looking at me.

I should have liked first to have brushed my jacket, since it was
covered with dust, but St. Jerome said that that was quite unnecessary,
since I was in such a deplorable moral condition that my exterior
was not worth considering. As he led me through the salon, Katenka,
Lubotshka, and Woloda looked at me with much the same expression as
we were wont to look at the convicts who on certain days filed past my
grandmother's house. Likewise, when I approached Grandmamma's arm-chair
to kiss her hand, she withdrew it, and thrust it under her mantilla.

"Well, my dear," she began after a long pause, during which she regarded
me from head to foot with the kind of expression which makes one
uncertain where to look or what to do, "I must say that you seem to
value my love very highly, and afford me great consolation." Then she
went on, with an emphasis on each word, "Monsieur St. Jerome, who, at my
request, undertook your education, says that he can no longer remain
in the house. And why? Simply because of you." Another pause ensued.
Presently she continued in a tone which clearly showed that her speech
had been prepared beforehand, "I had hoped that you would be grateful
for all his care, and for all the trouble that he has taken with you,
that you would have appreciated his services; but you--you baby, you