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‘Bravo! bravo! Clever trick–no denying that!’ he cried out.

Masha was petrified.

‘So you took every care, I see, to be on the safe side, Marya Sergievna! Prudence is never thrown away, eh? Upon my word! Nowadays young ladies see further than old men. So this is all your love amounts to!’

‘I don’t know, Mr. Lutchkov, who has given you any right to speak about love… what love?’

‘Who? Why, you yourself!’ Lutchkov cut her short: ‘what next!’ He felt he was ship-wrecking the whole business, but he could not restrain himself.

‘I have acted thoughtlessly,’ said Masha…. ‘I yielded to your request, relying upon your delicatesse… but you don’t know French… on your courtesy, I mean….’

Avdey turned pale. Masha had stung him to the quick.

‘I don’t know French… may be; but I know… I know very well that you have been amusing yourself at my expense.’

‘Not at all, Avdey Ivanovitch… indeed, I’m very sorry…’

‘Oh, please, don’t talk about being sorry for me,’ Avdey cut her short peremptorily; ‘spare me that, anyway!’

‘Mr. Lutchkov…’

‘Oh, you needn’t put on those grand-duchess airs… It’s trouble thrown away! you don’t impress me.’

Masha stepped back a pace, turned swiftly round and walked away.

‘Won’t you give me a message for your friend, your shepherd lad, your tender sweet-heart, Kister,’ Avdey shouted after her. He had lost his head. ‘Isn’t he the happy man?’…

Masha made him no reply, and hurriedly, gladly retreated. She felt light at heart, in spite of her fright and excitement. She felt as though she had waked up from a troubled sleep, had stepped out of a dark room into air and sunshine…. Avdey glared about him like a madman; in speechless frenzy he broke a young tree, jumped on to his mare, and so viciously drove the spurs into her, so mercilessly pulled and tugged at the reins that the wretched beast galloped six miles in a quarter of an hour and almost expired the same night.

Kister waited for Lutchkov in vain till midnight, and next morning he went round himself to see him. The orderly informed Fyodor Fedoritch that his master was lying down and had given orders that he would see no one. ‘He won’t see me even?’. ‘Not even your honour.’ Kister walked twice up and down the street, tortured by the keenest apprehensions, and then went home again. His servant handed him a note.

‘From whom?’

‘From the Perekatovs. Artiomka the postillion brought it.’

Kister’s hands began to tremble.

‘He had orders to give you their greetings. He had orders to wait for your answer. Am I to give Artiomka some vodka?’

Kister slowly unfolded the note, and read as follows:

‘DEAR GOOD FYODOR FEDORITCH,–I want very, very much to see you. Come to-day, if you can. Don’t refuse my request, I entreat you, for the sake of our old friendship. If only you knew… but you shall know everything. Good-bye for a little while,–eh?

MARIE.

‘P.S.–Be sure to come to-morrow.’

‘So your honour, am I to give Artiomka some vodka?’

Kister turned a long, bewildered stare at his servant’s countenance, and went out without uttering a word.

‘The master has told me to get you some vodka, and to have a drink with you,’ said Kister’s servant to Artiomka the postillion.

IX

Masha came with such a bright and grateful face to meet Kister, when he came into the drawing-room, she pressed his hand so warmly and affectionately, that his heart throbbed with delight, and a weight seemed rolled from his mind. Masha did not, however, say a single word, and she promptly left the room. Sergei Sergeitch was sitting on the sofa, playing patience. Conversation sprang up. Sergei Sergeitch had not yet succeeded with his usual skill in bringing the conversation round from all extraneous topics to his dog, when Masha reappeared, wearing a plaid silk sash, Kister’s favourite sash. Nenila Makarievna came in and gave Fyodor Fedoritch a friendly greeting. At dinner they were all laughing and making jokes; even Sergei Sergeitch plucked up spirit and described one of the merriest pranks of his youthful days, hiding his head from his wife like an ostrich, as he told the story.