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Updated: June 26, 2025
What a frame for a novel, if only he knew what to put in the novel. The houses fell into their places in the picture that filled his mind, he drew in the faces of the towns-people, grouped the servants with his aunt, the whole composition centring in Marfinka. The figures stood sharply outlined in his mind; they lived and breathed.
Marfinka, who did not know what to say, squeezed herself flat against the stove and looked at her two relatives. Her aunt pushed papers and books on one side, crossed her hands over her breast, and looked out of the window, while Raisky sat down beside Marfinka, and took her hand. "Would you like to go away from here, Marfinka, into a strange house, perhaps in an altogether different district?"
Oh mille pardons, mademoiselle." "Do stop, you foolish boy!" Marfinka bit her lips, but could not help laughing. "Just look at him, Granny! How can anybody keep serious when he mimics Monsieur Charles so nicely?" "Stop, children," cried Tatiana Markovna, her frown relaxing into smiles. "Go, and God be with you. Do whatever you like."
"Wha-at?" Marfinka also begged him to stay. Vera did not add her voice to the request, because she knew he would not stay; she thought sorrowfully that his manifold talents had not developed so far to give the pleasure they should do to himself and others.
He called to new activity, but she saw in his appeal nothing more than the lending of forbidden books. She agreed with him that work was necessary, and herself avoided idleness; she drew up for herself a picture of simple genuine activity for the future, and envied Marfinka because she understood how to make herself useful in the house and the village.
He intended to go back to his room to turn the tenseness of his mood to account as an artistic motive in his novel; but as he hurried past the old house, he noticed that the door was half open, and went in. Since his arrival he had only been here for a moment with Marfinka, and had glanced into Vera's room. Now it occurred to him to make a closer inspection.
The catastrophe of the tale approached at last, and when the last word was read and the book shut there was silence. "What stupid nonsense," said Raisky at length, and Marfinka wiped away a tear. "What do you think, Veroshka?" asked Tatiana Markovna. Vera made no reply, but Marfinka decided it was a horrid book because the lovers had suffered so cruelly.
Then taking from its case a gold cross with four large diamonds she hung it round the girl's neck, and gave her a plain, simple bracelet with the inscription: "From Grandmother to her Grandchild," and with the name and the date. Marfinka kissed her aunt's hand, and nearly wept once more. "All that Grandmother has, and she has many things, will be divided between you and Veroshka. Now make haste."
Marfinka will be a splendid manager, but she is still young; although she ought to have been married before now, she is still such a child in her ideas, thank God! She will mature with experience, and meantime I shelter her. She appreciates this and does nothing against her Grandmother's will, for which may God reward her.
But she felt she must control herself, and hastened to present Marfinka with the bouquet. "What a lovely bouquet! And what is this?" asked Marfinka as she felt a hard substance, and discovered the holder set with her name and the pearls. "You, too, Veroshka! How is it you all love me so? I love you all, how I love you! But how and when you found out that I did, I cannot think."
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