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The sister flung off her hat, shook her curls, seated herself near Tatyana Borissovna; took her by the hand... 'So this is she, she began in a pensive voice fraught with feeling: 'this is that sweet, clear, noble, holy being! This is she! that woman at once so simple and so deep! How glad I am! how glad I am! How we shall love each other!
But the next day the old maid came back, stayed four hours, and left, promising to come to see Tatyana Borissovna every day.
'Under these circumstances, he wrote to her, 'I propose coming to you to regain my health in the country. And in the May of the same year Andryusha did, in fact, return to Maliya-Briki. Tatyana Borissovna did not recognise him for the first minute.
'What does she do all day long? you will ask.... 'Does she read? No, she doesn't read, and, to tell the truth, books are not written for her.... If there are no visitors with her, Tatyana Borissovna sits by herself at the window knitting a stocking in winter; in summer time she is in the garden, planting and watering her flowers, playing for hours together with her cats, or feeding her doves.... She does not take much part in the management of her estate.
And here she is herself opening the window and nodding at us.... 'Good day, ma'am! Tatyana Borissovna is a woman of fifty, with large, prominent grey eyes, a rather broad nose, rosy cheeks and a double chin. Her face is brimming over with friendliness and kindness. She was once married, but was soon left a widow. Tatyana Borissovna is a very remarkable woman.
The same day he begged Tatyana Borissovna's permission for an interview with her alone. They shut themselves up together. In half-an-hour they called Andryusha Andryusha went in. Mr. Benevolensky was standing at the window with a slight flush on his face and a beaming expression. Tatyana Borissovna was sitting in a corner wiping her eyes.
'Tatyana Borissovna, began the visitor in a supplicating voice, 'forgive my temerity; I am the sister of your friend, Alexy Nikolaevitch K , and I have heard so much about you from him that I resolved to make your acquaintance. 'Greatly honoured, muttered the bewildered lady.
Andryusha, blushing and smiling, brought the visitor his sketch-book. Mr. Benevolensky began turning it over with the air of a connoisseur. 'Good, young man, he pronounced at last; 'good, very good. And he patted Andryusha on the head. Andryusha intercepted his hand and kissed it 'Fancy, now, a talent like that!... I congratulate you, Tatyana Borissovna. 'But what am I to do, Piotr Mihalitch?
I can breathe easily at last... I always fancied her just so, she added in a whisper, her eyes riveted on the eyes of Tatyana Borissovna. 'You won't be angry with me, will you, my dear kind friend? 'Really, I'm delighted!... Won't you have some tea? The lady smiled patronisingly: 'Wie wahr, wie unreflectiert', she murmured, as it were to herself. 'Let me embrace you, my dear one!
How often, for instance, have I chanced to ask a peasant: 'Tell me, my friend, how am I to get to Gratchevka? let us say. 'Well, sir, you go on first to Vyazovoe, and from there to Tatyana Borissovna's, and from Tatyana Borissovna's any one will show you the way. And at the name of Tatyana Borissovna the peasant wags his head in quite a special way.
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