Usually, landlords' houses were built then wooden, quadrangular, with a large locker and a cramped hallway, where there was always a smell of ammonia. In the servant's room of the Pokrovsky House, as well as in the rooms, there was a smell of flowers brought from the greenhouse, or of fine French tobacco. The master sniffed; Smoking was considered bad form here. It was not the Osips and Zakhars who served the master, but a well-trained valet, who knew his business; so were the other servants, especially the uncle and the venerable, though still young, nurse for the children.

Alexander Semyonovich and his wife had sixteen children; all of them grew up in the first years under the supervision of nanny Efimovna, who was devoted in soul and body. In cases of serious illness of one of the children, the nurse came to the lady with a report: "Mother Sophia Afanasyevna, please bless the baby, they are working." The mother went, blessed the child and calmly returned to her duty. And her duty was to please her husband and maintain the dignity of a noble family. And since no one prevented the children from getting sick and dying, nine out of sixteen people survived. The eldest was Dmitry Alexandrovich, later a well-known clergyman, and the youngest was my mother, Marya Alexandrovna...

And for me, in my childhood and early youth, Pokrovskoye was a fairy tale, a dream come true. To this day, the memory of Pokrov's antiquity is vivid in me: tall rose bushes in the piers between the windows, a blue drawing room with shtoff furniture, a round hall, vast and bright, where the grandchildren and children of the great lord gathered for ceremonial dinners; a balcony with white lions, fragrant jasmines all around; above the balcony on the stone wall of the house there are stucco decorations in the form of knightly armor; Inside there is a wide spiral staircase upstairs and mezzanines at the top with mysterious attics. Oh, how mysterious were those low, dark attics! What amazing stories my imagination inhabited them! And who knows how many real stories they have witnessed?

In this beautiful house, in this dream come true, the young generation of the Brianchaninovs grew up. Among the children, several friendly couples formed by themselves. Only the eldest daughter, Alexandra Alexandrovna, unloved by her mother, stood alone. Dmitry Alexandrovich shared thoughts and feelings with his next brother, Peter. Cheerful, ruddy Sashenka got along with everyone. The middle ones - Senya and Lizonka, who looked alike, were playing pranks together. Graceful Sonechka was drawn to Dmitry and was loved by him. My younger brother Misha was united with my mother by such an inseparable friendship that in the family they were nicknamed by the common name "Mishmashak".

The main rule of education in Pokrovskoye was considered to be inexorable strictness. Tact and bright mind, and education coexisted strangely in the master with despotism, which surpassed the precepts of Domostroi himself.

Sofia Afanasyevna dearly loved her son Dmitry, but love for children was hidden here as an unworthy weakness. It was the kingdom of the rod. After one unjust punishment, my mother decided to protest; For this, she was whipped for the second time before fainting. Mikhail Alexandrovich, a self-loving boy, once bit his hand until it bled, trying not to scream during the execution. His fault was that, having heard a conversation in the village about the headman's frauds, he, with his usual vehemence, ran to tell his father about it. He interfered in the affairs of adults, which, of course, was not allowed.

I remember that in my old age my grandfather once said about his children: "I kept the elders strictly - and lost; pampered the smaller ones, and won nothing.

I don't know what he hoped to win, and why he lost to those who brought honor to his name is not clear. But if the younger ones were pampered in the way described, then what were the older ones supposed to endure? And is it any wonder that the memories of a sad childhood later poured a certain coldness into their attitude towards their father?

The education that the young Brianchaninovs received was brilliant for that time. Every day a fresh trio brought the best teachers from the city and brought them back; Two teachers and a governess lived permanently. Attention was paid to the arts; in a gifted family, some had inclinations for music, others for literature; still others have a desire for painting. All these talents were developed. At the same time, the children of the Bryanchaninovsky house were not only punished, but also kept from hand to mouth in the morning. Not out of miserliness, of course: the harsh system demanded it.

Ослепнув под старость, няня Ефимовна доживала свой век в нашем Вепревском доме. Мы, дети, бегали по вечерам слушать, как она молится. Молилась она вслух, долго и слезно, за  себя и за всех, кого она любила, причем с рыданиями умоляла Бога простить ей тот грех, что она однажды, рассердившись, хлопнула барышню Лизавету Александровну. Имея перед глазами каждодневное сеченье детей, эта чистая душа ставила себе в вину единственный, вероятно, легкий удар! Об этой няньке Петр Александрович — губернатор и старик — вспоминал, как о своей благодетельнице.

— Те ломтики хлеба, что нам Ефимовна совала тайком, были ми-лос-ты-ней! — говорил он дрожавшим от волнения голосом.

Ефимовна всегда старалась скрывать вины детей от господ: дядька, напротив, верный цербер, не пропускал ни одной.

Утро начиналось в Покровском докладами. Доклады эти я живо могу себе представить по рассказам матери и слепой няни…

Семь часов. Барин уже вышел из спальной и отправился в кабинет. Домочадцы с замиранием сердца слышали трубный звук его сморканья, означавший, что он гневен. Наверх, осторожно ступая в больших сапогах, прошел староста Матвей. Няня Ефимовна явилась в спальную с докладом о детях.