The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 266 pages of information about The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories.

The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 266 pages of information about The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories.

“I am the doctor come to see you,” said Korolyov.  “Good evening.”

He mentioned his name and pressed her hand, a large, cold, ugly hand; she sat up, and, evidently accustomed to doctors, let herself be sounded, without showing the least concern that her shoulders and chest were uncovered.

“I have palpitations of the heart,” she said, “It was so awful all night. . . .  I almost died of fright!  Do give me something.”

“I will, I will; don’t worry yourself.”

Korolyov examined her and shrugged his shoulders.

“The heart is all right,” he said; “it’s all going on satisfactorily; everything is in good order.  Your nerves must have been playing pranks a little, but that’s so common.  The attack is over by now, one must suppose; lie down and go to sleep.”

At that moment a lamp was brought into the bed-room.  The patient screwed up her eyes at the light, then suddenly put her hands to her head and broke into sobs.  And the impression of a destitute, ugly creature vanished, and Korolyov no longer noticed the little eyes or the heavy development of the lower part of the face.  He saw a soft, suffering expression which was intelligent and touching:  she seemed to him altogether graceful, feminine, and simple; and he longed to soothe her, not with drugs, not with advice, but with simple, kindly words.  Her mother put her arms round her head and hugged her.  What despair, what grief was in the old woman’s face!  She, her mother, had reared her and brought her up, spared nothing, and devoted her whole life to having her daughter taught French, dancing, music:  had engaged a dozen teachers for her; had consulted the best doctors, kept a governess.  And now she could not make out the reason of these tears, why there was all this misery, she could not understand, and was bewildered; and she had a guilty, agitated, despairing expression, as though she had omitted something very important, had left something undone, had neglected to call in somebody—­and whom, she did not know.

“Lizanka, you are crying again . . . again,” she said, hugging her daughter to her.  “My own, my darling, my child, tell me what it is!  Have pity on me!  Tell me.”

Both wept bitterly.  Korolyov sat down on the side of the bed and took Liza’s hand.

“Come, give over; it’s no use crying,” he said kindly.  “Why, there is nothing in the world that is worth those tears.  Come, we won’t cry; that’s no good. . . .”

And inwardly he thought: 

“It’s high time she was married. . . .”

“Our doctor at the factory gave her kalibromati,” said the governess, “but I notice it only makes her worse.  I should have thought that if she is given anything for the heart it ought to be drops. . . .  I forget the name. . . .  Convallaria, isn’t it?”

And there followed all sorts of details.  She interrupted the doctor, preventing his speaking, and there was a look of effort on her face, as though she supposed that, as the woman of most education in the house, she was duty bound to keep up a conversation with the doctor, and on no other subject but medicine.

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The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.