"What do you think, Veroshka?" asked Tatiana Markovna.

Vera made no reply, but Marfinka decided it was a horrid book because the lovers had suffered so cruelly.

"If they had followed the advice of their parents, things would not have come to such a pa.s.s. 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 with this 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 be put for a week on bread and water," and kneeling on the footstool at her aunt's feet she added, "Good-night, Grandmother."

Tatiana Markovna stooped to kiss her and whispered. "I did not want to punish you, but to guard you against getting into trouble yourself."

"And if I do," whispered Vera in reply, "will you have me put in a convent 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 such thing. But why warn me with such a silly book?"

"How should I warn you and guard you, my dear. Tell me and set my mind at rest."

"Make the sign of the Cross over me," she said after a moment's hesitation, and when her aunt had made the holy sign, Vera kissed her hand and left the room.

"A wise book," laughed Raisky. "Well, has the beautiful Cunigunde's example done any good?"

Tatiana Markovna was grieved and in no mood for joking, and sent for Pashutka to take the book to the servants' room.

"You have brought Vera up in the right way," said Raisky. "Let Egorka and Marina read your allegory together, and the household will be impeccable."

Vikentev called Marfinka into the garden, Raisky went to his room, and Tatiana 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 pious tone, and was really ashamed of having had recourse to so gross a method.

Marina, Yakob and Va.s.silissa came one after another to say that supper was ready, but Tatiana Markovna wanted none, Vera declined, and to Marina's astonishment even Marfinka, who never went supperless to bed, was not hungry.

Meanwhile Egorka had got wind of the universal loss of appet.i.te. He helped himself to a considerable slice from the dish with his fingers to taste, as he told Yakob, whom he invited to share the feast. Yakob shook his head and crossed himself, but nevertheless did his share, so that when 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 the house. Tatiana Markovna rose from the divan and looked at the ikon. She crossed herself, but she was too restless for prayer, and did not kneel down as usual. Instead she sat down on the bed and began to go over her pa.s.sage of arms with Vera. How could she learn what lay on the girl's heart. 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 on the 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. "Have you come to say good-night. G.o.d 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 will tell you everything, but please put out the light."

Then Marfinka began to relate how she had gone with Vikentev into the park to hear the nightingales sing, how she had first objected because it 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, her heart beating faster and faster. "I am afraid, I won't go a step farther." She drew closer to him all the same, terrified by the crackling of the twigs under her feet.

"Here we will wait. Listen!" he whispered.

The nightingale sang, and Marfinka felt herself enveloped in the warm breath of night. At intervals her hand sought Vikentev's, but when he touched hers she drew it back.

"How lovely, Marfa Va.s.silievna! What an enchanted night!"

She nudged him not to disturb the song.

"Marfa Va.s.silievna," he whispered, "something so good, so wonderful is happening to me, something I have never felt before. It is as if everything in me was astir. At this moment," he went on as she remained silent, "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 to the 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 own words 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 the house; on the steps she waited a moment to take breath.

"Not a step farther," she cried breathlessly, clinging to the doorpost as he overtook her. "Go home."

"Listen, Marfa Va.s.silievna, 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."