THE guests at the party had tea and cakes offered to them, and sat down after that to play whist at a number of card-tables.
The partners of Eugene Mihailovich's wife were the host himself, an officer, and an old and very stupid lady in a wig, a widow who owned a music-shop; she loved playing cards and played remarkably well. But it was Eugene Mihailo-vich's wife who was the winner all the time. The best cards were continually in her hands. At her side she had a plate with grapes and a pear and was in the best of spirits.
"And Eugene Mihailovich? Why is he so late?" asked the hostess, who played at another table.
"Probably busy settling accounts," said Eugene Mihailovich's wife. "He has to pay off the tradesmen, to get in firewood " The quarrel she had with her husband revived in her memory; she frowned, and her hands, from which she had not taken off the mittens, shook with fury against him.
"Oh, there he is.--We have just been speak-ing of you," said the hostess to Eugene Mihailo-vich, who came in at that very moment. "Why are you so late?"
"I was busy," answered Eugene Mihailovich, in a gay voice, rubbing his hands. And to his wife's surprise he came to her side and said,--"You know, I managed to get rid of the cou-pon."
"No! You don't say so!"
"Yes, I used it to pay for a cart-load of fire-wood I bought from a peasant."
And Eugene Mihailovich related with great in-dignation to the company present--his wife add-ing more details to his narrative--how his wife had been cheated by two unscrupulous schoolboys.
"Well, and now let us sit down to work," he said, taking his place at one of the whist-tables when his turn came, and beginning to shuffle the cards.
