'Mumu, Mumu, come to me, come to your mistress,' said the lady; 'come, silly thing ... don't be afraid.'
'Come, Mumu, come to the mistress,' repeated the companions. 'Come along!'
But Mumu looked round her uneasily, and did not stir.
'Bring her something to eat,' said the old lady. 'How stupid she is! she won't come to her mistress. What's she afraid of?'
'She's not used to your honour yet,' ventured one of the companions in a timid and conciliatory voice.
Stepan brought in a saucer of milk, and set it down before Mumu, but Mumu would not even sniff at the milk, and still shivered, and looked round as before.
'Ah, what a silly you are!' said the lady, and going up to her, she stooped down, and was about to stroke her, but Mumu turned her head abruptly, and showed her teeth. The lady hurriedly drew back her hand....
A momentary silence followed. Mumu gave a faint whine, as though she would complain and apologise.... The old lady moved back, scowling. The dog's sudden movement had frightened her.
'Ah!' shrieked all the companions at once, 'she's not bitten you, has she? Heaven forbid! (Mumu had never bitten any one in her life.) Ah! ah!'
'Take her away,' said the old lady in a changed voice. 'Wretched little dog! What a spiteful creature!'
And, turning round deliberately, she went towards her boudoir. Her companions looked timidly at one another, and were about to follow her, but she stopped, stared coldly at them, and said, 'What's that for, pray? I've not called you,' and went out.
The companions waved their hands to Stepan in despair. He picked up Mumu, and flung her promptly outside the door, just at Gerasim's feet, and half-an-hour later a profound stillness reigned in the house, and the old lady sat on her sofa looking blacker than a thunder-cloud.
What trifles, if you think of it, will sometimes disturb any one!
Till evening the lady was out of humour; she did not talk to any one, did not play cards, and passed a bad night. She fancied the eau-de-Cologne they gave her was not the same as she usually had, and that her pillow smelt of soap, and she made the wardrobe-maid smell all the bed linen--in fact she was very upset and cross altogether. Next morning she ordered Gavrila to be summoned an hour earlier than usual.
'Tell me, please,' she began, directly the latter, not without some inward trepidation, crossed the threshold of her boudoir, 'what dog was that barking all night in our yard? It wouldn't let me sleep!'