the wife and other stories-第35部分

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　he's　a　very　clever　fellow！　I　do　like　that　　upon　my　soul　I　do！　What　youthful　aplomb；　what　life　in　that　foolish　flourish！　And　what　boy　is　this？〃　he　asked；　suddenly　turning　and　looking　at　me。

〃That　is　my　Andryushenka；〃　my　mother　introduced　me；　flushing　crimson。　〃My　consolation。　。　。〃

I　made　a　scrape　with　my　foot　on　the　sand　and　dropped　a　low　bow。

〃A　fine　fellow　。　。　。　a　fine　fellow　。　。　。〃　muttered　my　uncle；　taking　his　hand　from　my　lips　and　stroking　me　on　the　head。　〃So　your　name　is　Andrusha？　Yes；　yes。　。　。　。　H'm！　。　。　。　upon　my　soul！　。　。　。　Do　you　learn　lessons？〃

My　mother；　exaggerating　and　embellishing　as　all　mothers　do；　began　to　describe　my　achievements　in　the　sciences　and　the　excellence　of　my　behaviour；　and　I　walked　round　my　uncle　and；　following　the　ceremonial　laid　down　for　me；　I　continued　making　low　bows。　Then　my　mother　began　throwing　out　hints　that　with　my　remarkable　abilities　it　would　not　be　amiss　for　me　to　get　a　government　nomination　to　the　cadet　school；　but　at　the　point　when　I　was　to　have　burst　into　tears　and　begged　for　my　uncle's　protection；　my　uncle　suddenly　stopped　and　flung　up　his　hands　in　amazement。

〃My　goo…oodness！　What's　that？〃　he　asked。

Tatyana　Ivanovna；　the　wife　of　our　bailiff；　Fyodor　Petrovna；　was　coming　towards　us。　She　was　carrying　a　starched　white　petticoat　and　a　long　ironing…board。　As　she　passed　us　she　looked　shyly　at　the　visitor　through　her　eyelashes　and　flushed　crimson。

〃Wonders　will　never　cease　。　。　。〃　my　uncle　filtered　through　his　teeth；　looking　after　her　with　friendly　interest。　〃You　have　a　fresh　surprise　at　every　step；　sister　。　。　。　upon　my　soul！〃

〃She's　a　beauty　。　。　。〃　said　mother。　〃They　chose　her　as　a　bride　for　Fyodor；　though　she　lived　over　seventy　miles　from　here。　。　。　。〃

Not　every　one　would　have　called　Tatyana　a　beauty。　She　was　a　plump　little　woman　of　twenty；　with　black　eyebrows　and　a　graceful　figure；　always　rosy　and　attractive…looking；　but　in　her　face　and　in　her　whole　person　there　was　not　one　striking　feature；　not　one　bold　line　to　catch　the　eye；　as　though　nature　had　lacked　inspiration　and　confidence　when　creating　her。　Tatyana　Ivanovna　was　shy；　bashful；　and　modest　in　her　behaviour；　she　moved　softly　and　smoothly；　said　little；　seldom　laughed；　and　her　whole　life　was　as　regular　as　her　face　and　as　flat　as　her　smooth；　tidy　hair。　My　uncle　screwed　up　his　eyes　looking　after　her；　and　smiled。　Mother　looked　intently　at　his　smiling　face　and　grew　serious。

〃And　so；　brother；　you've　never　married！〃　she　sighed。

〃No；　I've　not　married。〃

〃Why　not？〃　asked　mother　softly。

〃How　can　I　tell　you？　It　has　happened　so。　In　my　youth　I　was　too　hard　at　work；　I　had　no　time　to　live；　and　when　I　longed　to　live　　I　looked　round　　and　there　I　had　fifty　years　on　my　back　already。　I　was　too　late！　However；　talking　about　it　。　。　。　is　depressing。〃

My　mother　and　my　uncle　both　sighed　at　once　and　walked　on；　and　I　left　them　and　flew　off　to　find　my　tutor；　that　I　might　share　my　impressions　with　him。　Pobyedimsky　was　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　yard；　looking　majestically　at　the　heavens。

〃One　can　see　he　is　a　man　of　culture！〃　he　said；　twisting　his　head　round。　〃I　hope　we　shall　get　on　together。〃

An　hour　later　mother　came　to　us。

〃I　am　in　trouble；　my　dears！〃　she　began；　sighing。　〃You　see　brother　has　brought　a　valet　with　him；　and　the　valet；　God　bless　him；　is　not　one　you　can　put　in　the　kitchen　or　in　the　hall；　we　must　give　him　a　room　apart。　I　can't　think　what　I　am　to　do！　I　tell　you　what；　children；　couldn't　you　move　out　somewhere　　to　Fyodor's　lodge；　for　instance　　and　give　your　room　to　the　valet？　What　do　you　say？〃

We　gave　our　ready　consent；　for　living　in　the　lodge　was　a　great　deal　more　free　than　in　the　house；　under　mother's　eye。

〃It's　a　nuisance；　and　that's　a　fact！〃　said　mother。　〃Brother　says　he　won't　have　dinner　in　the　middle　of　the　day；　but　between　six　and　seven；　as　they　do　in　Petersburg。　I　am　simply　distracted　with　worry！　By　seven　o'clock　the　dinner　will　be　done　to　rags　in　the　oven。　Really；　men　don't　understand　anything　about　housekeeping；　though　they　have　so　much　intellect。　Oh；　dear！　we　shall　have　to　cook　two　dinners　every　day！　You　will　have　dinner　at　midday　as　before；　children；　while　your　poor　old　mother　has　to　wait　till　seven；　for　the　sake　of　her　brother。〃

Then　my　mother　heaved　a　deep　sigh；　bade　me　try　and　please　my　uncle；　whose　coming　was　a　piece　of　luck　for　me　for　which　we　must　thank　God；　and　hurried　off　to　the　kitchen。　Pobyedimsky　and　I　moved　into　the　lodge　the　same　day。　We　were　installed　in　a　room　which　formed　the　passage　from　the　entry　to　the　bailiff's　bedroom。

Contrary　to　my　expectations；　life　went　on　just　as　before；　drearily　and　monotonously；　in　spite　of　my　uncle's　arrival　and　our　move　into　new　quarters。　We　were　excused　lessons　〃on　account　of　the　visitor。　〃Pobyedimsky；　who　never　read　anything　or　occupied　himself　in　any　way；　spent　most　of　his　time　sitting　on　his　bed；　with　his　long　nose　thrust　into　the　air；　thinking。　Sometimes　he　would　get　up；　try　on　his　new　suit；　and　sit　down　again　to　relapse　into　contemplation　and　silence。　Only　one　thing　worried　him；　the　flies；　which　he　used　mercilessly　to　squash　between　his　hands。　After　dinner　he　usually　〃rested；〃　and　his　snores　were　a　cause　of　annoyance　to　the　whole　household。　I　ran　about　the　garden　from　morning　to　night；　or　sat　in　the　lodge　sticking　my　kites　together。　For　the　first　two　or　three　weeks　we　did　not　see　my　uncle　often。　For　days　together　he　sat　in　his　own　room　working；　in　spite　of　the　flies　and　the　heat。　His　extraordinary　capacity　for　sitting　as　though　glued　to　his　table　produced　upon　us　the　effect　of　an　inexplicable　conjuring　trick。　To　us　idlers；　knowing　nothing　of　systematic　work；　his　industry　seemed　simply　miraculous。　Getting　up　at　nine；　he　sat　down　to　his　table；　and　did　not　leave　it　till　dinner…time；　after　dinner　he　set　to　work　again；　and　went　on　till　late　at　night。　Whenever　I　peeped　through　the　keyhole　I　invariably　saw　the　same　thing：　my　uncle　sitting　at　the　table　working。　The　work　consisted　in　his　writing　with　one　hand　while　he　turned　over　the　leaves　of　a　book　with　the　other；　and；　strange　to　say；　he　kept　moving　all　over　　swinging　his　leg　as　though　it　were　a　pendulum；　whistling；　and　nodding　his　head　in　time。　He　had　an　extremely　careless　and　frivolous　expression　all　the　while；　as　though　he　were　not　working；　but　playing　at　noughts　and　crosses。　I　always　saw　him　wearing　a　smart　short　jacket　and　a　jauntily　tied　cravat；　and　he　always　smelt；　even　through　the　keyhole；　of　delicate　feminine　perfumery。　He　only　left　his　room　for　dinner；　but　he　ate　little。

〃I　can't　make　brother　out！〃　mother　complained　of　him。　〃Every　day　we　kill　a　turkey　and　pigeons　on　purpose　for　him；　I　make　a　_compote_　with　my　own　hands；　and　he　eats　a　plateful　of　broth　and　a　bit　of　meat　the　size　of　a　finger　and　gets　up　from　the　table。　I　begin　begging　him　to　eat；　he　comes　back　and　drinks　a　glass　of　milk。　And　what　is　there　in　that；　in　a　glass　of　milk？　It's　no　better　than　washing　up　water！　You　may　die　of　a　diet　like　that。　。　。　。　If　I　try　to　persuade　him；　he　laughs　and　makes　a　joke　of　it。　。　。　。　No；　he　does　not　care　for　our　fare；　poor　dear！〃

We　spent　the　evenings　far　more　gaily　than　the　days。　As　a　rule；　by　the　time　the　sun　was　setting　and　long　shadows　were　lying　across　the　yard；　we　　that　is；　Tatyana　Ivanovna；　Pobyedimsky；　and　I　　were　sitting　on　the　steps　of　the　lodge。　We　did　not　talk　till　it　grew　quite　dusk。　And；　indeed；　what　is　one　to　talk　of　when　every　subject　has　been　talked　over　already？　There　was　only　one　thing　new；　my　uncle's　arrival；　and　even　that　subject　was　soon　exhausted。　My　tutor　never　took　his　eyes　off　Tatyana　Ivanovna　's　face；　and　frequently　heaved　deep　sighs。　。　。　。　At　the　time　I　did　not　understand　those　sighs；　and　did　not　try　to　fathom　their　significance；　now　they　explain　a　great　deal　to　me。

When　the　shadows　merged　into　one　thick　mass　of　shade；　the　bailiff　Fyodor　would　come　in　from　shooting　or　from　the　field。　This　Fyodor　gave　me　the　impres　sion　of　being　a　fierce　and　even　a　terrible　man。　The　son　of　a　Russianized　gipsy　from　Izyumskoe；　swarthy…faced　and　curly…headed；　with　big　black　eyes　and　a　matted　beard；　he　was　never　called　among　our　Kotchuevko　peasants　by　any　name　but　〃The　Devil。〃　And；　indeed；　there　was　a　great　deal　of　the　gipsy　about　him　apart　from　his　appearance。　He　could　not；　for　instance；　stay　at　home；　and　went　off　for　days　together　into　the　country　or　into　the　woods　to　shoot。　He　was　gloomy；　ill…humoured；　taciturn；　was　afraid　of　nobody；　and　refused　to　recognize　any　authority。　He　was　rude　to　mother；　addressed　me　familiarly；　and　was　contemptuous　of　Pobyedimsky's　learning。　All　this　we　forgave　him；　looking　upon　him　as　a　hot…tempered　and　nervous　man；　mother　liked　him　because；　in　spite　of　his　gipsy　nature；　he　was　ideally　honest　and　industrious。　He　loved　his　Tatyana　Ivanovna　passionately；　like　a　gipsy；　but　this　love　took　in　him　a　gloomy　form；　as　though　it　cost　him　suffering。　He　was　never　affectionate　to　his　wife　in　our　presence；　but　simply　rolled　his　eyes　angrily　at　her　and　twisted　his　mouth。

When　he　came　in　from　the　fields　he　would　noisily　and　angrily　put　down　his　gun；　would　come　out　to　us　on　the　steps；　and　sit　down　beside　his　wife。　After　resting　a　little；　he　would　ask　his　wife　a　few　questions　about　household　matters；　and　then　sink　into　silence。

〃Let　us　sing；〃　I　would　suggest。

My　t