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Updated: June 28, 2025
"'Oh Volga, proudest of rivers, Stem thy hurrying flood; Oh Volga, hearken, hearken, To the ringing song of the poet, The unknown, whose life thou hast spared." "Don't be vexed with me, Borushka," cried Tatiana Markovna, "but I think you are mad. What have you done with the papers I sent you? Have you brought them?" "Where are they?" she continued, as he shook his head.
Vera looked round the company, thanking Raisky by a friendly glance, and Marfinka hid behind her aunt. "What a confession! You admitted this Barabbas under your roof," said Niel Andreevich. "Not I, Niel Andreevich. Borushka brought him in at night, and I did not even know who was sleeping in his room." "You go round with him at night?
I don't know what you are in manhood, but you were then a good nephew. Come, if only to see your sisters, and perhaps happiness will reward your coming. If God grants me the joy of seeing you married and laying the estate in your hands I shall die happy. Marry, Borushka; you are long since of an age to do so. Then my little girls will still have a home.
Raisky went to the window, raised the curtain, and looked out into the dark, starlit night. Now and then a flame hovered over the unemptied bowl, flared up and lighted up the room for a moment. There was a gentle tap on the door. "Who is there?" he asked. "I, Borushka. Open quickly. What are you doing there," said the anxious voice of Tatiana Markovna.
In the same low tone Raisky asked who the little lady was with the fine teeth and the well-developed figure. "Shame, Boris Pavlovich," and aloud, "Niel Andreevich, Borushka has been desiring to present himself to you for a long time." Raisky was about to reply when Tatiana Markovna pressed his hand, enjoining silence.
Borushka says that I don't know how to entertain you, and that you don't like my table. Did you tell him so?" "How should I not like it? When did I say such a thing?" he asked Raisky severely. "You are joking!" he went on, as everybody laughed, and he himself had to smile. He had had time to find his own bearings, and had begun to realise the necessity of hiding his grief from others.
"I honour the memory of the departed, but hers is the fault. She kept you by her side, talked to you, played the piano, read out of books and wept as she did so. And this is the result. Singing and painting. Now tell me, Borushka," she went on in her ordinary tone, "what is to become of the house, of the linen, the silver, the diamonds? Shall you order them to be given to the peasants?"
"I receive two thousand roubles from my other estate, and that is a sufficient income. I want to work, to draw, to write, to travel for a little; and for that purpose I might mortgage or sell the other estate." "God bless you, Borushka, what next? Are you so near beggary? You talk of drawing, writing, alienating your land; next it will be giving lessons or school teaching.
"Borushka!" cried Tatiana Markovna in horror, when he entered her room. "What has come to you, my friend? You have been drinking!" She looked keenly at him for a long minute, then turned away when she read in his tell-tale face that he, too, had heard the talk about her past self.
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