It was at once answered by the appearance of an old friend, his valet, Matvey, carrying his clothes, his boots, and a telegram.

Matvey was followed by the barber with all the necessaries for shaving.

"Are there any papers from the office?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, taking the telegram and seating himself at the looking-glass.

"On the table," replied Matvey, glancing with inquiring sympathy at his master; and, after a short pause, he added with a sly smile, "They've sent from the carriage-jobbers.

" Stepan Arkadyevitch made no reply, he merely glanced at Matvey in the looking-glass.