It was at this hour of greatness that Fimka Sobak came to see her.
She brought with her the icy breath of January and a French fashion magazine.
Ellochka got no further than the first page.
A glossy photograph showed the daughter of the American billionaire, Vanderbilt, in an evening dress.
It showed furs and plumes, silks and pearls, an unusually simple cut and a stunning hair-do.
That settled everything.
"Oho!" said Ellochka to herself.
That meant "she or me".
The next morning found Ellochka at the hairdresser's, where she relinquished her beautiful black plait and had her hair dyed red.
Then she was able to climb another step up the ladder leading her to the glittering paradise frequented by billionaires' daughters, who were no match for housewife Shukin. A dog skin made to look like muskrat was bought with a loan and added the finishing touch to the evening dress.
Mister Shukin, who had long cherished the dream of buying a new drawing-board, became rather depressed.
The dog-trimmed dress was the first well-aimed blow at Miss Vanderbilt.
The snooty American girl was then dealt three more in succession.
Ellochka bought a chinchilla tippet (Russian rabbit caught in Tula Province) from Fimka Sobak, a private furrier, acquired a hat made of dove-grey Argentine felt, and converted her husband's new jacket into a stylish tunic.
The billionaire's daughter was shaken, but the affectionate Daddy Vanderbilt evidently came to the rescue.
The latest number of the magazine contained a portrait of the cursed rival in four different styles: (1) in black-brown fox; (2) with a diamond star on her forehead; (3) in a flying suit (high boots, a very thin green coat and gauntlets, the tops of which were encrusted with medium-size emeralds); and (4) in a ball gown (cascades of jewellery and a little silk).
Ellochka mustered her forces.
Daddy Shukin obtained a loan from the mutual-assistance fund, but they would only give him thirty roubles.
This desperate new effort radically undermined the household economy, but the battle had to be waged on all fronts.
Not long before some snapshots of the Miss in her new castle in Florida had been received.
Ellochka, too, had to acquire new furniture.
She bought two upholstered chairs at an auction. (Successful buy!
Wouldn't have missed it for the world.) Without asking her husband, Ellochka took the money from the dinner fund.
There were ten days and four roubles left to the fifteenth.
Ellochka transported the chairs down Varsonofefsky Street in style.
Her husband was not at home, but arrived soon after, carrying a brief-case.
"The dismal husband has arrived," said Ellochka clearly and distinctly.
All her words were pronounced distinctly and popped out as smartly as peas from a pod.
"Hello, Ellochka, what's all this?
Where did the chairs come from?"
"Ho-ho!"
"No, really?"
"Ter-r-rific!"
"Yes, they're nice chairs."
"Great!"
"A present from someone?"
"Oho!"
"What?
Do you mean you bought them?
Where did the money come from?
The housekeeping money?
But I've told you a thousand times . . ."
"Ernestula, you're being vulgar!"
"How could you do a thing like that?
We won't have anything to eat!"
"Just imagine!"
"But it's outrageous!
You're living beyond your means."
"You're kidding."
"No, no.