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Updated: May 22, 2025
His heart throbbed with involuntary emotion; the serene expression of that honest, candid face gave him a pang of bitter reproach. "So you are here, poor girl," he thought. "You whom I have so longed for, so urged to come, with whom I had hoped to spend my life to the end, you have come, you believe in me... while I... while I..." But Kapitolina Markoyna gave him no time for musing.
He fell on his knees before her, kissing the hem of her dress. The tears started into her eyes. She was frightened, but her whole face beamed with delight. "Tatyana," Litvinov cried, "Tatyana, you have forgiven me? Tatyana!" "Aunt, aunt, what is this?" cried Tatyana, turning to Kapitolina Markovna as she came in.
And he was at Baden, also, because Tatyana's aunt, Kapitolina Markovna Shestov, an old unmarried lady of fifty-five, a good-natured, honest, eccentric soul a democrat, sworn opponent of aristocracy and fashionable society could not resist the temptation of gazing for once on the aristocratic society which sunned itself in such a fashionable place as Baden.
Also, in Sobakevitch's list there was recorded who had been the father and the mother of each of the deceased, and how those parents had behaved themselves. Only against the name of a certain Thedotov was there inscribed: "Father unknown, Mother the maidservant Kapitolina, Morals and Honesty good."
At last the house was in view... and on the steps Kapitolina Markovna was standing, and, beside herself with joy, was clapping her hands, crying, "I heard him! I knew him first! It's he! it's he! I knew him." Litvinov dashed into the house... before him, all shamefaced, stood Tatyana. She glanced at him with kind, caressing eyes and gave him her hand. But he did not take her hand.
In the night, at two o'clock, Kapitolina Markovna, who was sleeping in the same room with her niece, suddenly lifted up her head and listened. "Tatyana," she said, "you are crying?" Tatyana did not at once answer. "No, aunt," sounded her gentle voice; "I have caught cold." In the course of that dreadful night Litvinov had arrived at a resolution.
Another year, and his toil began to show its fruit. A third year was beginning. An uncle, who happened to be a cousin of Kapitolina Markovna, and had been recently staying with her, paid them a visit. He brought Litvinov a great deal of news about Tatyana. The next day, after his departure, Litvinov sent her a letter, the first since their separation.
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