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'Mind you don't go and fall in love with him, remarked Sergei Sergeitch. 'I know you girls are all like that nowadays so what shall I say? romantic... 'No, Masha responded simply. Nenila Makarievna looked coldly at her husband.
Masha recovered herself, and gradually began to watch Lutchkov. To the questions addressed to him by the lady of the house, he answered briefly, but uneasily; he was shy, like all egoistic people. Nenila Makarievna suggested a stroll in the garden to her guests, but did not herself go beyond the balcony.
The landowners of the South of Russia are very keen on giving balls, inviting officers to their houses, and marrying off their daughters. About seven miles from the village of Kirilovo lived just such a country gentleman, a Mr. Perekatov, the owner of four hundred souls, and a fairly spacious house. He had a daughter of eighteen, Mashenka, and a wife, Nenila Makarievna. Mr.
'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.
Not a cloud anywhere. The blue of the sky was so thick and dark on the horizon that the eye mistook it for storm-cloud. The house Mr. Perekatov had erected for a summer residence had been, with the foresight usual in the steppes, built with every window directly facing the sun. Nenila Makarievna had every shutter closed from early morning. Kister walked into the cool, half-dark drawing-room.
'Excuse me... duties of the service... Nenila Makarievna duly expressed her regret. Mr. Perekatov, following her lead, also expressed something or other. 'I don't want to be in the way, Kister wanted to say to Masha, as he passed her, but he bowed down and whispered instead: 'Be happy... farewell... take care of yourself... and was gone.
Why, I declare, my dear, there was a time when I had a terrible character as a fighting man. Masha looked wonderingly at her parent, laughed, then jumped up and kissed him on the cheek. His wife smiled a little, too... but Sergei Sergeitch had spoken the truth. 'I don't know if that gentleman is coming, observed Nenila Makarievna. 'Possibly he may come too. The daughter sighed.
She had grown fonder and fonder of him every day; happiness was for her a much more urgent need than passion. Besides, Avdey had turned her from all exaggerated desires, and she renounced them joyfully and for ever. Nenila Makarievna loved Kister like a son. Sergei Sergeitch as usual followed his wife's lead.
Nenila Makarievna was sitting on the sofa; Lutchkov was sitting in an easy-chair, wearing his uniform, with his hat on his knees; Kister was near him. They both got up on Masha's entrance Kister with his usual friendly smile, Lutchkov with a solemn and constrained air. She bowed to them in confusion, and went up to her mother. The first ten minutes passed off favourably.
Masha took it into her head to start a game of 'catch-catch. Maid-servants and footmen came out; Mr. Perekatov stood with his wife, Kister with Masha. The maids ran with deferential little shrieks; Mr. Perekatov's valet had the temerity to separate Nenila Makarievna from her spouse; one of the servant-girls respectfully paired off with her master; Fyodor Fedoritch was not parted from Masha.
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