CHAPTER XVI
Not only Raisky, but Tatiana Markovna gave up her attitude ofacquiescence, and secretly began to watch Vera narrowly. TatianaMarkovna became thoughtful, she even neglected the affairs of the houseand farm, left the keys lying on the table, did not speak to Savili,kept no accounts, and did not drive out into the fields. She grewmelancholy as she sought in vain how she might seek from Vera a frankavowal, or find means to avert misfortune.
Vera in love, in an ecstasy! It seemed to her more than small-pox ormeasles, worse even than brain fever. And with whom was she in love? Godgrant that it were Ivan Ivanovich. If Vera were married to him, sheherself would die in peace. But her feminine instinct told her thatwhatever deep affection the Forester cherished for Vera, it wasreciprocated by nothing more than friendship.
Who then was the man? Of the neighbouring landowners there was onlyTushin whom she saw and knew anything of. The young men in the town, theofficers and councillors, had long since given up any hope of beingreceived into her favour.
She looked keenly and suspiciously at Vera when she came to dinner ortea, and tried to follow her into the garden, but as soon as Vera wasaware of her aunt's presence she quickened her steps and vanished intothe distance.
"Spirited away like a ghost!" said Tatiana Markovna to Raisky. "I wantedto follow her, but where, with my old limbs? She flits like a bird intothe woods, into the bushes, over the precipice."
Raisky went immediately into the park, where he met Yakob, and asked himif he had seen the young lady.
"I saw Vera Vassilievna just now by the chapel."
"What was she doing there?"
"Praying."
Raisky went to the chapel, wondering to himself how she had come to takerefuge in prayer. On the left there lay in the meadow between the parkand the road, a lonely, weather-beaten, half-ruined wooden chapel,adorned with a picture of the Christ, a Byzantine painting in a bronzeframe. The ikon had grown dark with age, the paint had been cracked inmany places, so that the Christ face was hardly recognisable, but theeyelids were still plainly discernible, and the eyes looked out dreamilyon the worshippers; the folded hands were also preserved.
Raisky advanced noiselessly over the grass. Vera was standing with herback to him, her face turned towards the ikon, unconscious of hisapproach. On the grass by the chapel lay her straw hat and sunshade. Herhands did not make the sign of the Cross, her lips uttered no prayers,her whole body appeared motionless, as if she hardly breathed; her wholebeing was at prayer.
Involuntarily Raisky too held his breath. Is she begging for happiness,or is she confiding her sorrow to the Crucified?
Suddenly she awoke from her prayer, turned and started when she caughtsight of Raisky.
"What are you doing here?" she said severely.
"Yakob met me and said you were here; so I came. Grandmother...."
"Since you mention Grandmother, I will point out that she has beenwatching me for some time. Do you know the reason?" she asked, lookingstraight into his eyes.
"I think she always does."
"No, it was not her idea to watch me. Tell me without concealinganything, have you communicated to her your suppositions about love anda letter written on blue paper?"
"I think not of the letter."
"Then of love. I must know what you said?"
"We were speaking of you. Grandmother has her own questionings as to whyyou are so serious one moment and so gay the next. I said (it is a longtime ago) that perhaps you were in love."
"And Grandmother?"
"She was terrified."
"Why?"
"Chiefly because of your evident excitement."
"Grandmother's peace of mind is dear to me; dearer, perhaps, than youthink."
"She told me herself that she believed in your boundless love for her."
"Thank God! I am grateful to you for repeating this to me. Go toGrandmother and destroy this curiosity of hers about my being in love,in ecstasy. It cannot be difficult for you, and you will fulfil mywishes if you love me."
"What would I not do to prove it to you. Later in the evening...."
"No, this minute. When I come to dinner her eyes are to look on me asbefore, do you understand?"
"Well, I will go!" promised Raisky, but did not stir.
"Make haste!"
"And you?"
For answer she pointed in the direction of the house.
"One word more," she said, detaining him. "You must never, never talkabout me to Grandmother, do you understand?"
"Agreed, sister."
She motioned him to be gone, and when turning into an avenue he lookedround for a moment, she had vanished. She had, as Grandmother said,disappeared like a ghost. A moment later there was the report of a gunfrom the precipice. Raisky wondered who was playing tricks there, andwent towards the house.
Vera appeared punctually at the midday meal. Keenly as he looked at her,Raisky could observe no change in her. Tatiana Markovna glanced at himonce or twice in inquiry, but was visibly reassured when she saw nosigns of anything unusual. Raisky had executed Vera's commission, andhad alleviated her acutest anxiety, but it was impossible to reassureher completely.
Tatiana Markovna was saddened and wounded by the lack of confidenceshown her by Vera, her niece, her daughter, her dearest child, entrustedto her care by her mother. Terror overcame her. She lay awake anxiouslythrough the night, she questioned Marina, sent Marfinka to find out whatVera was doing, but without result. Suddenly there occurred to her whatseemed to her a good plan; as she put it to Raisky, she would make useof allegory. She remembered that she possessed a moral tale which shehad read and wept over in her own youth. Its theme was the disastrousconsequences which followed on passion and disobedience to parents. Ayoung man and a girl loved one another, and met against the will oftheir parents. She stood on the balcony beckoning and talking to him,and they wrote one another long epistles. Others intervened, the younggirl lost her reputation, and the young man was sent to some vague placein America by his father.
Like many others Tatiana Markovna pinned her faith to the printed word,especially when the reading was of an edifying character. So she tookher talisman from the shelf, where it lay hidden under a pile of rubbish,and laid it on the table near her work basket. At dinner she declared tothe two sisters her desire that they should read aloud to her onalternate evenings, especially in bad weather, since she could not readvery much on account of her eyes. Generally speaking, she was not anenthusiastic reader, and only liked to listen when Tiet Nikonich readaloud to her on agricultural matters or hygiene, or about distressingoccurrences of murder or arson.
Vera said nothing, but Marfinka asked immediately whether the book had ahappy ending.
"What sort of book is it?" inquired Raisky, picking up the book andglancing at a page here and there. "What old rubbish have you discovered,Grandmother. I expect you read it when you were in love with TietNikonich."
"Don't be foolish, Boris Pavlovich. You are not asked to read."
Raisky took his departure, and the room was left to the reading party.
Vera was unendurably bored, but she never refused assent to anydefinitely expressed wish of her aunt's. At last, after three or fourevenings, the point was reached where the lovers exchanged their vows.The tale was faultlessly moral and horribly dull. Vera hardly listened.At each word of love her aunt looked at her to see whether she wastouched, whether she blushed or turned pale, but Vera merely yawned.
On the last evening when only a few chapters were left, Raisky stayed inthe room when the table was cleared and the reading began. Vikentev, too,was present. He could not sit quiet, but jumped up from time to time,ran to Marfinka, and begged to be allowed to take his share in thereading. When they gave him the book he inserted long tirades of his ownin the novel, or read with a different voice suited to each character.He made the heroine lisp in a mournful whisper, the hero speak with hisown natural voice, so that Marfinka blushed and looked angrily at him,and the stern father spoke
with the voice of Niel Andreevich. At lastTatiana Markovna took the book from him with an intimation to him tobehave reasonably, whereupon he continued his studies incharacter-mimicry for Marfinka's benefit behind her back. When Marfinkabetrayed him he was requested to go into the garden until supper timeand the reading went on without him. The catastrophe of the taleapproached at last, and when the last word was read and the book shutthere was silence.
"What stupid nonsense," said Raisky at length, and Marfinka wiped away atear.
"What do you think, Veroshka?" asked Tatiana Markovna.
Vera made no reply, but Marfinka decided it was a horrid book becausethe lovers had suffered so cruelly.
"If they had followed the advice of their parents, things would not havecome to such a pass. What do you think, Veroshka?"
Vera got up to go, but on the threshold she stopped.
"Grandmother," she said, "why have you bothered me for a whole week withthis stupid book?" And without waiting for an answer she glided away,but Tatiana Markovna called her back.
"Why, Vera, I meant to give you pleasure."
"No, you wanted to punish me for something. In future I would rather beput for a week on bread and water," and kneeling on the footstool at heraunt's feet she added, "Good-night, Grandmother."
Tatiana Markovna stooped to kiss her and whispered. "I did not want topunish you, but to guard you against getting into trouble yourself."
"And if I do," whispered Vera in reply, "will you have me put in aconvent like Cunigunde?"
"Do you think I am a monster like those bad parents? It's wicked, Vera,to think such things of me."
"I know it would be wicked, Grandmother, and I don't think any suchthing. But why warn me with such a silly book?"
"How should I warn you and guard you, my dear. Tell me and set my mindat rest."
"Make the sign of the Cross over me," she said after a moment'shesitation, and when her aunt had made the holy sign, Vera kissed herhand and left the room.
"A wise book," laughed Raisky. "Well, has the beautiful Cunigunde'sexample done any good?"
Tatiana Markovna was grieved and in no mood for joking, and sent forPashutka to take the book to the servants' room.
"You have brought Vera up in the right way," said Raisky. "Let Egorkaand Marina read your allegory together, and the household will beimpeccable."
* * * * *
Vikentev called Marfinka into the garden, Raisky went to his room, andTatiana Markovna sat for a long time on the divan, absorbed in thought.She had lost all interest in the book, was herself sickened by its pioustone, and was really ashamed of having had recourse to so gross a method.Marina, Yakob and Vassilissa came one after another to say that supperwas ready, but Tatiana Markovna wanted none, Vera declined, and toMarina's astonishment even Marfinka, who never went supperless to bed,was not hungry.
Meanwhile Egorka had got wind of the universal loss of appetite. Hehelped himself to a considerable slice from the dish with his fingers totaste, as he told Yakob, whom he invited to share the feast. Yakob shookhis head and crossed himself, but nevertheless did his share, so thatwhen Marina came to clear the table the fish and the sweets were gone.
The mistress's preparations for rest were made, and quiet reigned in thehouse. Tatiana Markovna rose from the divan and looked at the ikon. Shecrossed herself, but she was too restless for prayer, and did not kneeldown as usual. Instead she sat down on the bed and began to go over herpassage of arms with Vera. How could she learn what lay on the girl'sheart. She remembered the proverb that wisdom comes with the morning,and lay down, but not that night to sleep, for there was a light tap onthe door, and she heard Marfinka's voice, "Open the door. Grandmother.It's me."
"What's the matter, my dear?" she said, as she opened the door. "Haveyou come to say good-night. God bless you! Where is Nikolai Andreevich?"
But she was terrified when she saw Marfinka's face.
"Sit down in the armchair," she said, but Marfinka clung to her.
"Lie down, Grandmother, and I will sit on the bed beside you. I willtell you everything, but please put out the light."
Then Marfinka began to relate how she had gone with Vikentev into thepark to hear the nightingales sing, how she had first objected becauseit was so dark.
"Are you afraid?" Vikentev had asked.
"Not with you," and they had gone on hand in hand.
"How dark it is! I won't go any farther. Don't take hold of my hand!"She went on involuntarily, although Vikentev had loosed her hand, herheart beating faster and faster. "I am afraid, I won't go a stepfarther." She drew closer to him all the same, terrified by thecrackling of the twigs under her feet.
"Here we will wait. Listen!" he whispered.
The nightingale sang, and Marfinka felt herself enveloped in the warmbreath of night. At intervals her hand sought Vikentev's, but when hetouched hers she drew it back.
"How lovely, Marfa Vassilievna! What an enchanted night!"
She nudged him not to disturb the song.
"Marfa Vassilievna," he whispered, "something so good, so wonderful ishappening to me, something I have never felt before. It is as ifeverything in me was astir. At this moment," he went on as she remainedsilent, "I should like to fling myself on horseback, and ride, ride,till I had no breathe left, or fling myself into the Volga and swim tothe opposite bank. Do you feel anything like that?"
"Let us go away from here. Grandmother will be angry."
"Just a minute more. How the nightingale does sing! What does he sing?"
"I don't know."
"Just what I should like to say to you, but don't know how to say."
"How do you know what he sings? Can you speak nightingale language?"
"He is singing of love, of my love for you," and startled by his ownwords he drew her hand to his lips and covered it with kisses.
She drew it back, and ran at full speed down the avenue towards thehouse; on the steps she waited a moment to take breath.
"Not a step farther," she cried breathlessly, clinging to the doorpostas he overtook her. "Go home."
"Listen, Marfa Vassilievna, my angel," he cried, falling on his knees."On my knees I swear...."
"If you speak another word, I go straight to Grandmother."
He rose, and led her by force into the avenue.
"What are you doing? I will call, I won't listen to your nightingale."
"You won't listen to it, but you will to me."
"Let me go. I will tell Grandmother everything."
"You must tell her to-night, Marfa Vassilievna. We have come too near toone another that if we were suddenly separated.... Should you like that,Marfa Vassilievna? If you like I will go away for good."
She wept and seized his hand in panic, when he drew back a step.
"You love me, you love me," he cried.
"Does your mother know what you are saying to me?"
"Not yet."
"Ought you to say it then? Is it honourable?"
"I shall tell her to-morrow."
"What if she will not give her blessing?"
"I won't obey."
"But I will. I will take no step without your Mother's and Grandmother'sconsent," she said, turning to go.
"As far as I am concerned, I am sure of my Mother's consent. I willhurry now to Kolchino, and my Mother will send you her consent to-morrow.Marfa Vassilievna, give me your hand."
"What will Grandmother say? If she does not forgive me I shall die ofshame," she said, and she hurried into the house.
"Heavens, what will Grandmother say?" she wondered, shutting herself upin her room, and shaking with fever. How should she tell her grandmother,and should she tell Veroshka first. She decided in favour of hergrandmother, and when the house was quiet slipped to her room like amouse.
The two talked low to one another for a long time. Tatiana Markovna madethe sign of the cross over her darling many times, until she fell asleepon her shoulder. Then she carefully laid the girl's hea
d on the pillow,rose, and prayed with many tears. But more heartily than for Marfinka'shappiness she prayed for Vera, with her grey head bowed before the cross.