Selected Stories of Anton Chekov - By Anton Chekhov Page 0,124

contented, Tanya,” said Kovrin, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m more than contented, I’m happy! Tanya, dear Tanya, you’re an extremely sympathetic being. Dear Tanya, I’m so glad, so glad!”

He warmly kissed both her hands and went on:

“I’ve just lived through some bright, wondrous, unearthly moments. But I can’t tell you everything, because you’ll call me mad or you won’t believe me. Let’s talk about you. Dear, nice Tanya! I love you and I’m used to loving you. To have you near, to meet you a dozen times a day, has become a necessity for my soul. I don’t know how I’ll do without you when I go back home.”

“Well!” Tanya laughed. “You’ll forget us in two days. We’re little people, and you’re a great man.”

“No, let’s talk seriously!” he said. “I’ll take you with me, Tanya. Yes? Will you go with me? Do you want to be mine?”

“Well!” said Tanya, and again she wanted to laugh, but the laughter did not come out, and red spots appeared on her face.

She started breathing fast, and quickly went, not towards the house, but further into the park.

“I wasn’t thinking of that … I wasn’t!” she said, clasping her hands as if in despair.

And Kovrin followed her, saying with the same radiant, rapturous face:

“I want a love that will capture the whole of me, and only you, Tanya, can give me that love. I’m happy! Happy!”

She was stunned, she bent, shrank, and seemed to grow ten years older, but he found her lovely and expressed his rapture aloud: “How beautiful she is!”

VI

On learning from Kovrin not only that the romance was under way, but that there was even to be a wedding, Yegor Semyonych paced up and down for a long time, trying to conceal his agitation. His hands began to tremble, his neck swelled and turned purple, he ordered his racing droshky harnessed and drove off somewhere. Tanya, seeing how he whipped up the horse and how far down, almost to the ears, he had pulled his cap, understood his mood, locked herself in her room, and cried all day.

The peaches and plums were already ripe in the conservatory; the packing and sending of these delicate and capricious goods to Moscow called for much attention, work, and trouble. The summer being very hot and dry, it was necessary to water every tree, which took a lot of time and labor, and besides that multitudes of caterpillars appeared, which the workers, and even Yegor Semyonych and Tanya, squashed in their fingers, to Kovrin’s great disgust. With all that it was necessary to receive the fall orders for fruit and trees and carry on a vast correspondence. And at the busiest time, when nobody seemed to have a single free moment, the time came for work in the fields, which took half the workers from the gardens; Yegor Semyonych, deeply tanned, worn out, angry, galloped off now to the gardens, now to the fields, and shouted that he was being torn to pieces and that he was going to put a bullet through his head.

And on top of that there was the bustling over the trousseau, something to which the Pesotskys attached great importance; the snick of scissors, the rattle of sewing machines, the burning smell of irons, the fussiness of the dressmaker, a nervous, easily offended lady, made everyone in the house dizzy. And, as if by design, guests came every day, who had to be entertained, fed, and even put up overnight. But all this hard labor passed unobserved, as in a fog. Tanya felt as if love and happiness had caught her unawares, though for some reason she had been certain since the age of fourteen that Kovrin would marry precisely her. She was amazed, perplexed, did not believe herself… Sometimes she would be flooded with such joy that she wanted to fly up to the clouds and there pray to God, but then she would suddenly remember that in August she had to part with her own nest and leave her father, or else the thought would come, God knows from where, that she was insignificant, small, and unworthy of such a great man as Kovrin— and she would go to her room, lock herself in, and weep bitterly for several hours. When guests came, she would suddenly think that Kovrin was remarkably handsome and that all the women were in love with him and envied her, and her soul would be filled with rapture and pride, as