‘From whom?’
‘From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion
brought it.’
Kister’s hands began to tremble.
’He had orders to give you their greetings.
He had orders to wait for your answer. Am I to
give Artiomka some vodka?’
Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows:
’DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,—I want
very, very much to see you. Come to-day, if you
can. Don’t refuse my request, I entreat
you, for the sake of our old friendship. If only
you knew... but you shall know everything. Good-bye
for a little while,—eh?
MARIE.
‘P.S.—Be sure to come to-morrow.’
‘So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some
vodka?’
Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant’s
countenance, and went out without uttering a word.
’The master has told me to get you some vodka,
and to have a drink with you,’ said Kister’s
servant to Artiomka the postillion.
Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to
meet Kister, when he came into the drawing-room, she
pressed his hand so warmly and affectionately, that
his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight seemed
rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however,
say a single word, and she promptly left the room.
Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the sofa, playing
patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei
Sergeitch had not yet succeeded with his usual skill
in bringing the conversation round from all extraneous
topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a
plaid silk sash, Kister’s favourite sash.
Nenila Makarievna came in and gave Fyodor Fedoritch
a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all
laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked
up spirit and described one of the merriest pranks
of his youthful days, hiding his head from his wife
like an ostrich, as he told the story.
‘Let us go for a walk, Fyodor Fedoritch,’
Masha said to Kister after dinner with that note of
affectionate authority in her voice which is, as it
were, conscious that you will gladly submit to it.
’I want to talk to you about something very,
very important,’ she added with enchanting solemnity,
as she put on her suede gloves. ’Are you
coming with us, maman?’
‘No,’ answered Nenila Makarievna.
‘But we are not going into the garden.’
‘Where then?’
‘To Long Meadow, to the copse.’
‘Take Taniusha with you.’
‘Taniusha, Taniusha!’ Masha cried musically,
flitting lightly as a bird from the room.
A quarter of an hour later Masha walked with Kister
into the Long Meadow. As she passed the cattle,
she gave a piece of bread to her favourite cow, patted
it on the head and made Kister stroke it. Masha
was in great good humour and chatted merrily.
Kister responded willingly, though he awaited explanations
with impatience.... Taniusha walked behind at
a respectful distance, only from time to time stealing
a sly glance at her young lady.
