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I said; “Sergey Mikhaylych will give me his

arm.”

 

As if that would prevent me from wetting my feet! But to us three this

seemed perfectly natural at the time. Though he never used to offer me his

arm, I now took it of my own accord, and he saw nothing strange in it. We

all went down from the veranda together. That whole world, that sky, that

garden, that air, were different from those that I knew.

 

We were walking along an avenue, and it seemed to me, whenever I looked

ahead, that we could go no farther in the same direction, that the world of

the possible ended there, and that the whole scene must remain fixed for

ever in its beauty. But we still moved on, and the magic wall kept parting

to let us in; and still we found the familiar garden with trees and paths

and withered leaves. And we were really walking along the paths, treading on

patches of light and shade; and a withered leaf was really crackling under

my foot, and a live twig brushing my face. And that was really he, walking

steadily and slowly at my side, and carefully supporting my arm; and that

was really Katya walking beside us with her creaking shoes. And that must be

the moon in the sky, shining down on us through the motionless branches.

 

But at each step the magic wall closed up again behind us and in front, and

I ceased to believe in the possibility of advancing father — I ceased to

believe in the reality of it all.

 

“Oh, there’s a frog!” cried Katya.

 

“Who said that? and why?” I thought. But then I realized it was Katya, and

that she was afraid of frogs. Then I looked at the ground and saw a little

frog which gave a jump and then stood still in front of me, while its tiny

shadow was reflected on the shining clay of the path.

 

“You’re not afraid of frogs, are you?” he asked.

 

I turned and looked at him. Just where we were there was a gap of one tree

in the lime avenue, and I could see his face clearly — it was so handsome

and so happy!

 

Though he had spoken of my fear of frogs, I knew that he meant to say, “I

love you, my dear one!” “I love you, I love you” was repeated by his look,

by his arm; by the light, the shadow, and the air all repeated the same

words.

 

We had gone all round the garden. Katya’s short steps had kept up with us,

but now she was tired and out of breath. She said it was time to go in; and

I felt very sorry for her. “Poor thing!” I thought; “why does not she feel

as we do? why are we not all young and happy, like this night and like him

and me?”

 

We went in, but it was a long time before he went away, though the cocks had

crowed, and everyone in the house was asleep, and his horse, tethered under

the window, snorted continually and stamped his hoof on the burdocks. Katya

never reminded us of the hour, and we sat on talking of the merest trifles

and not thinking of the time, till it was past two. The cocks were crowing

for the third time and the dawn was breaking when he rode away. He said good

by as usual and made no special allusion; but I knew that from that day he

was mine, and that I should never lose him now. As soon as I had confessed

to myself that I loved him, I took Katya into my confidence. She rejoiced in

the news as was touched by my telling her; but she was actually able — poor

thing! — to go to bed and sleep! For me, I walked for a long, long time

about the veranda; then I went down to the garden where, recalling each

word, each movement, I walked along the same avenues through which I had

walked with him. I did not sleep at all that night, and saw sunrise and

early dawn for the first time in my life. And never again did I see such a

night and such a morning. “Only why does he not tell me plainly that he

loves me?” I thought; “what makes him invent obstacles and call himself old,

when all is so simple and so splendid? What makes him waste this golden time

which may never return? Let him say “I love you” — say it in plain words;

let him take my hand in his and ben over it and say “I love you”. Let him

blush and look down before me; and then I will tell him all. No! not tell

him, but throw my arms round him and press close to him and weep.” But then

a thought came to me — “What if I am mistaken and he does not love me?”

 

I was startled by this fear — God knows where it might have led me. I

recalled his embarrassment and mine, when I jumped down to him in the

orchard; and my heart grew very heavy. Tears gushed from my eyes, and I

began to pray. A strange thought occurred too me, calming me and bringing

hope with it. I resolved to begin fasting on that day, to take the Communion

on my birthday, and on that same day to be betrothed to him.

 

How this result would come to pass I had no idea; but from that moment I

believed and felt sure it would be so. The dawn had fully come and the

laborers were getting up when I went back to my room.

Chapter 4

The Fast of the Assumption falling in august, no one in the house was

surprised by my intention of fasting.

 

During the whole of the week he never once came to see us; but, far from

being surprised or vexed or made uneasy by his absence, I was glad of it — I

did not expect him until my birthday. Each day during the week I got up

early. while the horses were being harnessed, I walked in the garden alone,

turning over in my mind the sins of the day before, and considering what I

must do today, so as to be satisfied with my day and not spoil it by a

singlesin. It seemed so easy to me then to abstain from sin altogether; only

a trifling effort seemed necessary. When the horses came round, I got into

the carriage with Katya or one of the maids, and we drove to the church two

miles away. While entering the church, I always recalled the paryer for

those who “come unto the Temple in the fear of God”, and tried to get just

that frame of mind when mounting the two grass-grown steps up to the

building. At that hour there were not more than a dozen worshippers —

household servants or peasant women keeping the Fast. They bowed to me, and

I returned their bows with studied humility. Then, with what seemed to me a

great effort of courage, I went myself and got candles from the man who kept

them, an old soldier and an Elder; and I placed the candles before the

icons. throught the central door of the altar-screen I could see the altar

cloth which my mother had worked; on the screen were the two angels which

had seemed so big to me when I was little, and the dove with a golden halo

which had fascinated me long ago. Behind the choir stood the old batter

font, where I had been christened myself and stood godmother to so many of

the servants’ children. the old priest came out, wearing a cope made of the

pall that had covered my father’s coffin, and began to read in the same

voice that I had heard all my life — at services held in our house, at

Sonya’s christening, at memorial services for my father, and at my mother’s

funeral. The same old quavering voice of the deacon rose in the choir; and

the same old woman, whom I could remember at every service in that church,

crouched by the wall, fising her streaming eyes on an icon in the choir,

pressing her folded fingers against her faded kerchief, and muttering with

her toothless gums. And these objects were no longer merely curious to me,

merely interesting from old recollections — each had become important and

sacred in my eyes and seemed charged with profound meaning. I listened to

each word of the prayrers and tried to suit my feeling to it; and if I

failed to understand, I prayed silently that God would enlighten me, or made

up a prayer of my own in place of what I had failed to catch. When the

penitential prayers were repeated, I recalled my past life, and that

innocent childish past seemed to me so black when compared to the present

brightness of my soul, that I wept and was horrified at myself; but I felt

too that all those sins would be forgiven, and that if my sins had been even

greater, my repentance would be all the sweeter. At the end of the service

when the priest said, “The blessing of the Lord be upon you!” I semed to

feel an immediate sensation of physical well-being, of a mysterious light

and warmth that instantly filled my heart. The service over, the priest came

and asked me whether he should come to our house to say Mass, and what hour

would suit me; and I thanked him for the suggestion, intended, as I thought,

to please me, but said that I would come to church instead, walking or

driving.

 

“Is that not too much trouble?” he asked. and I was at a loss for an answer,

fearing to commit a sin of pride.

 

After the Mass, if Katya was not with me, I always sent the carriage home

and walked back alone, bowing humbly to all who passed, and trying to find

an opportunity of giving help or advice. I was eager to sacrifice myself for

someone, to help in lifting a fallen cart, to rock a child’s cradle, to give

up the path to others by stepping into the mud. One evening I heard the

bailiff report to Katya that Simon, one of our serfs, had come to beg some

boards to make a coffin for his daughter, and a ruble to pay the priest for

the funeral; the bailiff had given what he asked. “Are they as poor as

that?” I asked. “Very poor, Miss,” the bailiff answered; “they have no salt

to their food.” My heart ached to hear this, and yet I felt a kind of

pleasure too. Pretending to katya that I was merely going for a walk, I ran

upstairs, got out all my money (it was very little but it was all I had),

crossed myself, and started off alone, through the veranda and the garden,

on my way to Simon’s hut. It stood at the end of the village, and no one saw

me as I went up to the window, placed the money on the sill, and tapped on

the pane. Someone came out, making the door creak, and hailed me; but I

hurried home, cold and chaking with fear like a criminal. Katya asked where

I had been and what was the matter with me; but I did not answer, and did

not even understand what she was saying. Everything suddenly seemed to me so

pety and insignificant. I locked myself up in my own room, and walked up and

down alone for a long time, unable

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