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Tatiana Markovna fed her servants decently with cabbage soup and groats, on feast-days with rye and mutton; at Christmas geese and pigs were roasted. She allowed nothing out of the common on the servants' table or in their dress, but she gave the surplus from her own table now to one woman, now to another.
Vikentev had won the victory, which was indeed a foregone conclusion, for while Vikentev and Marfinka were still uncertain of their feelings, Tatiana Markovna and Marfa Egorovna had long before realised what was coming, and both, although they kept their own counsel, had weighed and considered the matter, and had concluded that the marriage was a suitable one.
She ate no supper; Tiet Nikonich politely said that he had no appetite either. Then came Raisky, who also wanted no supper, but sat silently at table pretending not to notice the glances which Tatiana Markovna directed towards him from time to time. When Tiet Nikonich had made his bow and departed, Tatiana Markovna prepared to retire.
"Yes, it is a long time since I was here. My wife has gone to Moscow to visit her relations, so that I could not...." "You ought to have come straight to us," observed Tatiana Markovna, "when it was so dull by yourself at home." "I expect her, and am always afraid she may come when I am not at home." "You would soon hear of her arrival, and she must pass our house.
"My carriage is solid, and has a cover. Vera Vassilievna sat as dry as if she were in a room." "But in this terrible storm." "Only old women are afraid of a storm." "I'm much obliged." "I beg your pardon," said Tushin in embarrassment. "It slipped from my tongue. I meant ordinary women." "God will forgive you," laughed Tatiana Markovna. "It won't indeed hurt you, but Vera! Were you not afraid?"
She had spoken truly, their grandmother existed no longer. This was not grandmother, not Tatiana Markovna, the warm-hearted mistress of Malinovka, where the life and prosperity of the whole place depended on her, the wise and happy ruler of her little kingdom.
Raisky had executed Vera's commission, and had alleviated her acutest anxiety, but it was impossible to reassure her completely. Tatiana Markovna was saddened and wounded by the lack of confidence shown her by Vera, her niece, her daughter, her dearest child, entrusted to her care by her mother. Terror overcame her.
On that early morning when Lichonin so suddenly, and, perhaps, unexpectedly even to himself, had carried off Liubka from the gay establishment of Anna Markovna it was the height of summer.
He succeeded in hiding from her the fact that she still occupied his thoughts; he would like to have wiped out of her recollection his hasty revelation of himself to her. Then he began a portrait of Tatiana Markovna, and occupied himself seriously with the plan of his novel.
On the one hand, Tatiana Markovna looked at him as much as to say that he probably knew what was the matter with Vera, while Vera's despairing glance betrayed her anxiety for the moment of her confession. He himself would have liked to have sunk into the earth. Tushin looked in an extraordinary manner at Vera, as both Tatiana Markovna and Raisky, but most of all Vera herself, noticed.
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