Chapter 46 life event

life event Alexey Bolisitch, who had just parted from Morpheus after lunch, was sitting by the window with his wife, Marfa Afanasyevna, complaining.He did not like his daughter Lidochka walking in the garden with the young man Fyodor Petrovitch. ... "I can't bear it," he muttered, "with a girl so indifferent that she has no shame. Such walks in the dark avenues in the garden, I see nothing but immorality and debauchery." Nothing else. You're a mother, but you can't see anything. . . . But, in your opinion, it's right for girls to do stupid things.  … In your opinion, it doesn't matter if they're having fun there. ... When you are old, you still wish to forget your shame and go to have a tryst with someone..." "Why are you against me?" The old woman was angry. "Nagging, I don't know what I'm talking about. Bald ugly bastard!"

"Okay! Just let them do what you want. . . . let them kiss and cuddle. . . . very well, . . . let them go. . Responsibility before God. . . Kiss, girl! Make a private decision for life! " "You take the time to gloat. . . . Maybe they will disperse without any results. ..." "God bless you, let's get rid of nothing," sighed Alexey Borisitch. "You are always at odds with your own children. . . . You only wish for Lidochka's misfortune, and never for good. . . . Be careful, Alexey, don't let God punish you for your wickedness! I will do it for you." Worried! You won't live long!"

"You can think what you like, but I won't allow it anyway. . . . He's not good enough for her, and she needn't worry. . . My suitor. . . . Why should I tell you this? I don't want to talk to you! Drive him away, shut up Litochka in the house. . . . That's what I'm going to do." The old man yawned and spoke weakly, as if chewing rubber.It could be seen that the reason why he was nagging was because his heart hurt and he was prone to talk nonsense, but the old woman took his words seriously. She clapped her hands, retorted, and croaked like an old hen.Tyrant, villain, heretic, bastard, and other familiar insults jumped out of her tongue and fell straight on Alexey Bolisitch's "ugly face." ... The situation would have ended, as usual, with solemn spit and tears, but at this moment the two old men suddenly saw something out of the ordinary: their daughter Lidochka was walking down the boulevard with tousled hair. Zhengfang came running.At the same time, far away, at the corner of the boulevard, behind a bush, Fyodor Petrovich's straw hat appeared. ... This time, the young man's face was pale.He hesitated and took two steps forward, then shook his hand again, and quickly backed away.After this they heard Lidochka run into the main room, fly across the passage, and go to her own room, closing the door behind her.

The old man and the old woman looked at each other with stunned expressions, lowered their eyes, and their faces turned slightly pale.The two were silent, not knowing what to say.To them the answer to the riddle was as plain as God's day.The two understood and felt without speaking: while they were complaining and scolding each other, the fate of their daughter had been decided.Leaving aside the feelings of parents, in fact, as long as the most ordinary human feelings are enough to understand what Lidochka feels in her heart when she is locked in her room, and how important the straw hat that retreated into the distance is playing in her life. decisive role. . . . Alexey Bolisitch got up, moaned, and began to walk up and down the room. ... The old woman watched his movements, waiting nervously for him to speak.

"What a strange weather these days..." said the old man with difficulty. "It's cold at night, but it's unbearably hot during the day." The cook brought the samovar.Marfa Afanasyevna washed the cups and poured tea, but no one wanted to drink it. "You ought to get ... Lidochka ... to tea," murmured Alexey Bolisitch, "or else a samovar will be made for her afterwards. ... I don't like a mess of!" Marfa Afanasyevna wanted to say something, but could not. ... Her lips quivered, her tongue froze, and her eyes were clouded.A moment later she was going to cry.Alexey Bolisitch was eager to comfort the panic-stricken old woman, and he wanted to cry himself, but pride prevented him from doing so: he had to grit his teeth and hold on to the scene. he complained, "only that he should talk to us first. . . . No... he, really, should ask us to marry Lidochka first. . . . Maybe we won't I agree!"

The old woman shook her hands, cried aloud, and went back to her room. "It is a matter of life ..." Alexey Bolisitch thought to himself. "You can't make a decision so hastily...it needs to be considered comprehensively....I'll ask her what's going on, talk to her, and then make a decision....That's not okay!" The old man covered the front of his homey robe and walked up to Lidochka's door with small steps. "Lidochka!" he said, hesitantly grasping the doorknob. "What's wrong with you? Are you sick or something?" no answer.Alexey Bolisitch sighed, shrugged his shoulders for some reason, and walked away from the door.

"That's impossible!" he thought, walking down the aisle pulling on his slippers. "It should be comprehensive...Think about it, talk about it, and discuss it for a while....Marriage is a sacrament, and it should not be treated carelessly....I'm going to talk to the old woman...." The old man walked into him with small steps wife's room.Marfa Afanasyevna was standing before an open box, turning over her clothes with trembling hands. "Not a single shirt, . . . " she muttered. "Regious and good parents have a dowry, and there is no lack of clothes for the doll, but our dowry has neither a turban nor a towel. . . . She might be thought not our own daughter, but an orphan.  … . . . " "It's time to talk about life, but you're always talking about these clothes. . . . It's embarrassing to look at you. . . . It's a matter of life and death, and she's standing in the box like a saleswoman." Come on, count those rags...that's not okay!"

"Then what should it be?" "It should be considered, thoroughly discussed, ... discussed. ..." The two old men heard Litochka open the door, send a letter to Fyodor Petrovich, and shut the door behind them. . . . "She sent him a final answer..." whispered Alexey Bolisitch. "God forgive these fools! It never occurred to me to consult my elders! Oh, these people!" "Guess what I'm thinking of, Alyosha!" said the old woman, clapping her hands together. "You know, we'll have to find a new house in the city! If Lidochka doesn't live with us anymore, what do we need these eight rooms for?"

"It's all nonsense, . ..." The two old men walked like shadows from room to room until supper, unable to find a place to rest.Marfa Afanasyevna rummaged through her clothes aimlessly, whispered to the cook, and cried from time to time.Alexey Bolisitch, on the other hand, was complaining, trying to say something serious, but talking nonsense.Lidochka came out at supper time.Her face was flushed and her eyes were slightly swollen. ... "Ah, hello!" said the old man, without looking at her. They sat down to eat and finished the first two courses in silence. . . . Everyone's countenance, gestures, footman's gait, in short, everything exudes a kind of restrained solemnity. . . . "Yes, Lidochka, that ..." began the old man. Come! We might as well have some champagne, but if we don't have it, we'll forget it. . . . Well, yes, . . . that's not going to work!"

The wine arrived.The old man drank endlessly from cup to cup. ... "Let's talk it over," he said. "This is serious business. ...This is not acceptable! " "Father, you talk too much!" Lidochka sighed. "Come on, come on..." the old man said in a panic. "I was just talking casually... just looking for a topic.... Don't be angry..." After dinner, the mother and daughter talked for a long time in whispers. "They're probably talking nonsense," thought the old man, walking up and down the room. "They, these fools, don't understand how serious it is, . . .

... This can't be done, that can't be done! " night came. ... Lidochka was lying in her room, not asleep. ... The two old men couldn't sleep either, and they kept talking until dawn. "Flies don't make people sleep!" Alexey Bolisitch complained. However, this cannot be blamed on the flies, but on the happy mood. ... "Notes" ① The god of dreams in Greek mythology. ②Alexis nickname.