different　branches；　it　was　the　serf　who　especially　attracted　his
  attention。　The　peasant　seemed　to　him　not　merely　a　tool；　but　also　a
  judge　of　farming　and　an　end　in　himself。　At　first　he　watched　the　serfs；
  trying　to　understand　their　aims　and　what　they　considered　good　and　bad；
  and　only　pretended　to　direct　them　and　give　orders　while　in　reality
  learning　from　them　their　methods；　their　manner　of　speech；　and　their
  judgment　of　what　was　good　and　bad。　Only　when　he　had　understood　the
  peasants'　tastes　and　aspirations；　had　learned　to　talk　their
  language；　to　grasp　the　hidden　meaning　of　their　words；　and　felt　akin　to
  them　did　he　begin　boldly　to　manage　his　serfs；　that　is；　to　perform
  toward　them　the　duties　demanded　of　him。　And　Nicholas'　management
  produced　very　brilliant　results。
  Guided　by　some　gift　of　insight；　on　taking　up　the　management　of　the
  estates　he　at　once　unerringly　appointed　as　bailiff；　village　elder；　and
  delegate；　the　very　men　the　serfs　would　themselves　have　chosen　had　they
  had　the　right　to　choose；　and　these　posts　never　changed　hands。　Before
  analyzing　the　properties　of　manure；　before　entering　into　the　debit　and
  credit　（as　he　ironically　called　it）；　he　found　out　how　many　cattle
  the　peasants　had　and　increased　the　number　by　all　possible　means。　He
  kept　the　peasant　families　together　in　the　largest　groups　possible；　not
  allowing　the　family　groups　to　divide　into　separate　households。　He
  was　hard　alike　on　the　lazy；　the　depraved；　and　the　weak；　and　tried　to
  get　them　expelled　from　the　commune。
  He　was　as　careful　of　the　sowing　and　reaping　of　the　peasants'　hay　and
  corn　as　of　his　own；　and　few　landowners　had　their　crops　sown　and
  harvested　so　early　and　so　well；　or　got　so　good　a　return；　as　did
  Nicholas。
  He　disliked　having　anything　to　do　with　the　domestic　serfs…　the
  〃drones〃　as　he　called　them…　and　everyone　said　he　spoiled　them　by　his
  laxity。　When　a　decision　had　to　be　taken　regarding　a　domestic　serf；
  especially　if　one　had　to　be　punished；　he　always　felt　undecided　and
  consulted　everybody　in　the　house；　but　when　it　was　possible　to　have　a
  domestic　serf　conscripted　instead　of　a　land　worker　he　did　so　without
  the　least　hesitation。　He　never　felt　any　hesitation　in　dealing　with　the
  peasants。　He　knew　that　his　every　decision　would　be　approved　by　them
  all　with　very　few　exceptions。
  He　did　not　allow　himself　either　to　be　hard　on　or　punish　a　man；　or　to
  make　things　easy　for　or　reward　anyone；　merely　because　he　felt　inclined
  to　do　so。　He　could　not　have　said　by　what　standard　he　judged　what　he
  should　or　should　not　do；　but　the　standard　was　quite　firm　and
  definite　in　his　own　mind。
  Often；　speaking　with　vexation　of　some　failure　or　irregularity；　he
  would　say：　〃What　can　one　do　with　our　Russian　peasants？〃　and　imagined
  that　he　could　not　bear　them。
  Yet　he　loved　〃our　Russian　peasants〃　and　their　way　of　life　with　his
  whole　soul；　and　for　that　very　reason　had　understood　and　assimilated
  the　one　way　and　manner　of　farming　which　produced　good　results。
  Countess　Mary　was　jealous　of　this　passion　of　her　husband's　and
  regretted　that　she　could　not　share　it；　but　she　could　not　understand
  the　joys　and　vexations　he　derived　from　that　world；　to　her　so　remote
  and　alien。　She　could　not　understand　why　he　was　so　particularly
  animated　and　happy　when；　after　getting　up　at　daybreak　and　spending　the
  whole　morning　in　the　fields　or　on　the　threshing　floor；　he　returned
  from　the　sowing　or　mowing　or　reaping　to　have　tea　with　her。　She　did　not
  understand　why　he　spoke　with　such　admiration　and　delight　of　the
  farming　of　the　thrifty　and　well…to…do　peasant　Matthew　Ermishin；　who
  with　his　family　had　carted　corn　all　night；　or　of　the　fact　that　his
  （Nicholas'）　sheaves　were　already　stacked　before　anyone　else　had　his
  harvest　in。　She　did　not　understand　why　he　stepped　out　from　the
  window　to　the　veranda　and　smiled　under　his　mustache　and　winked　so
  joyfully；　when　warm　steady　rain　began　to　fall　on　the　dry　and　thirsty
  shoots　of　the　young　oats；　or　why　when　the　wind　carried　away　a
  threatening　cloud　during　the　hay　harvest　he　would　return　from　the
  barn；　flushed；　sunburned；　and　perspiring；　with　a　smell　of　wormwood　and
  gentian　in　his　hair　and；　gleefully　rubbing　his　hands；　would　say：
  〃Well；　one　more　day　and　my　grain　and　the　peasants'　will　all　be　under
  cover。〃
  Still　less　did　she　understand　why　he；　kindhearted　and　always　ready
  to　anticipate　her　wishes；　should　become　almost　desperate　when　she
  brought　him　a　petition　from　some　peasant　men　or　women　who　had　appealed
  to　her　to　be　excused　some　work；　why　he；　that　kind　Nicholas；　should
  obstinately　refuse　her；　angrily　asking　her　not　to　interfere　in　what
  was　not　her　business。　She　felt　he　had　a　world　apart；　which　he　loved
  passionately　and　which　had　laws　she　had　not　fathomed。
  Sometimes　when；　trying　to　understand　him；　she　spoke　of　the　good　work
  he　was　doing　for　his　serfs；　he　would　be　vexed　and　reply：　〃Not　in　the
  least；　it　never　entered　my　head　and　I　wouldn't　do　that　for　their　good！
  That's　all　poetry　and　old　wives'　talk…　all　that　doing　good　to　one's
  neighbor！　What　I　want　is　that　our　children　should　not　have　to　go
  begging。　I　must　put　our　affairs　in　order　while　I　am　alive；　that's　all。
  And　to　do　that；　order　and　strictness　are　essential。。。。　That's　all
  about　it！〃　said　he；　clenching　his　vigorous　fist。　〃And　fairness；　of
  course；〃　he　added；　〃for　if　the　peasant　is　naked　and　hungry　and　has
  only　one　miserable　horse；　he　can　do　no　good　either　for　himself　or
  for　me。〃
  And　all　Nicholas　did　was　fruitful…　probably　just　because　he
  refused　to　allow　himself　to　think　that　he　was　doing　good　to　others　for
  virtue's　sake。　His　means　increased　rapidly；　serfs　from　neighboring
  estates　came　to　beg　him　to　buy　them；　and　long　after　his　death　the
  memory　of　his　administration　was　devoutly　preserved　among　the　serfs。
  〃He　was　a　master。。。　the　peasants'　affairs　first　and　then　his　own。　Of
  course　he　was　not　to　be　trifled　with　either…　in　a　word；　he　was　a
  real　master！〃
  EP1｜CH8
  CHAPTER　VIII
  One　matter　connected　with　his　management　sometimes　worried　Nicholas；
  and　that　was　his　quick　temper　together　with　his　old　hussar　habit　of
  making　free　use　of　his　fists。　At　first　he　saw　nothing　reprehensible　in
  this；　but　in　the　second　year　of　his　marriage　his　view　of　that　form
  of　punishment　suddenly　changed。
  Once　in　summer　he　had　sent　for　the　village　elder　from　Bogucharovo；　a
  man　who　had　succeeded　to　the　post　when　Dron　died　and　who　was　accused
  of　dishonesty　and　various　irregularities。　Nicholas　went　out　into　the
  porch　to　question　him；　and　immediately　after　the　elder　had　given　a　few
  replies　the　sound　of　cries　and　blows　were　heard。　On　returning　to　lunch
  Nicholas　went　up　to　his　wife；　who　sat　with　her　head　bent　low　over
  her　embroidery　frame；　and　as　usual　began　to　tell　her　what　he　had
  been　doing　that　morning。　Among　other　things　he　spoke　of　the
  Bogucharovo　elder。　Countess　Mary　turned　red　and　then　pale；　but
  continued　to　sit　with　head　bowed　and　lips　compressed　and　gave　her
  husband　no　reply。
  〃Such　an　insolent　scoundrel！〃　he　cried；　growing　hot　again　at　the
  mere　recollection　of　him。　〃If　he　had　told　me　he　was　drunk　and　did
  not　see。。。　But　what　is　the　matter　with　you；　Mary？〃　he　suddenly　asked。
  Countess　Mary　raised　her　head　and　tried　to　speak；　but　hastily　looked
  down　again　and　her　lips　puckered。
  〃Why；　whatever　is　the　matter；　my　dearest？〃
  The　looks　of　the　plain　Countess　Mary　always　improved　when　she　was　in
  tears。　She　never　cried　from　pain　or　vexation；　but　always　from　sorrow
  or　pity；　and　when　she　wept　her　radiant　eyes　acquired　an　irresistible
  charm。
  The　moment　Nicholas　took　her　hand　she　could　no　longer　restrain
  herself　and　began　to　cry。
  〃Nicholas；　I　saw　it。。。　he　was　to　blame；　but　why　do　you。。。　Nicholas！〃
  and　she　covered　her　face　with　her　hands。
  Nicholas　said　nothing。　He　flushed　crimson；　left　her　side；　and
  paced　up　and　down　the　room。　He　understood　what　she　was　weeping
  about；　but　could　not　in　his　heart　at　once　agree　with　her　that　what
  he　had　regarded　from　childhood　as　quite　an　everyday　event　was　wrong。
  〃Is　it　just　sentimentality；　old　wives'　tales；　or　is　she　right？〃　he
  asked　himself。　Before　he　had　solved　that　point　he　glanced　again　at　her
  face　filled　with　love　and　pain；　and　he　suddenly　realized　that　she
  was　right　and　that　he　had　long　been　sinning　against　himself。
  〃Mary；〃　he　said　softly；　going　up　to　her；　〃it　will　never　happen
  again；　I　give　you　my　word。　Never；〃　he　repeated　in　a　trembling　voice
  like　a　boy　asking　for　forgiveness。
  The　tears　flowed　faster　still　from　the　countess'　eyes。　She　took
  his　hand　and　kissed　it。
  〃Nicholas；　when　when　did　you　break　your　cameo？〃　she　asked　to
  change　the　subject；　looking　at　his　finger　on　which　he　wore　a　ring　with
  a　cameo　of　Laocoon's　head。
  〃Today…　it　was　the　same　affair。　Oh；　Mary；　don't　remind　me　of　it！〃
  and　again　he　flushed。　〃I　give　you　my　word　of　honor　it　shan't　occur
  again；　and　let　this　always　be　a　reminder　to　me；〃　and　he　pointed　to　the
  broken　ring。
  After　that；　when　in　discussions　with　his　village　elder