Chapter 69 Marriage Proposal Stories for Girls

Marriage Proposal Stories for Girls Valenyu Petrovich Petederkin, a handsome young man in a top hat, a frock coat, and patent leather shoes with spiked toes, was driving in a carriage and could hardly contain his excitement. , to the house of Princess Vera Zapiskina. ... Ah, what a pity you don't know Princess Vera!She was a charming beauty, with soft sky-blue eyes and silky curls that rose and fell in waves. A wave shatters when it hits a rock, but any rock that hits the waves of her curls is smashed to powder instead. ...One must be a dull fool to be able to resist her smile and the warmth that radiates from her petite figure that seems to be sculpted.Oh, when she talked, and laughed, and showed her dazzlingly white teeth, it must be a stupefied animal, not to feel ecstasy!

Perederkin was invited in by the princess. ... He sat down opposite the princess, and said, feeble with excitement, "Princess, can you listen to me a few words?" "Oh, OK!" "Princess,... excuse me, I don't know where to begin. . . . This happened so unexpectedly to you, . . . it came out of nowhere. . . . You will be angry. . . . " He reached into his pocket Li wiped his sweat with a handkerchief, while the duke team smiled charmingly and looked at him questioningly. "Princess!" he went on. "Since the day I saw you, I... have had an uncontrollable desire in my heart... This desire will not let me stop day and night,... If it cannot be realized... then I... I will be miserable gone."

The princess lowered her eyes thoughtfully.Perederkin pondered for a moment, and continued: "Of course, you will be surprised. . . . you are above all things in the world, but . . . you are the perfect person for me. . . . " Silence followed. "Especially because," sighed Peredelkin, "my estate borders on yours, . . . I have money. . . . " "But . asked. "What's the matter? Princess!" Peredelkin stood up and began to speak enthusiastically. "I beg you not to refuse me. . . . Please do not disturb my plans with your excuses. . . . My dear, please allow me to propose to you!"

Valentin Petrovitch sat down hastily, bowed his head close to the princess, and began in a low voice: "This is a very good marriage! . . . We can sell a million poods of fat in a year! We can Jointly set up a fat refinery on two contiguous lands!" The princess thought about it and said: "As ordered..." All female readers looking forward to a lingering ending can rest. unusual person It was past twelve o'clock at night.Outside the door of the spinster Marya Petrovna Kosykina, who worked as a midwife, stood a tall gentleman in a top hat and a hooded uniform coat.In the dark autumn night, neither his face nor his hands could be seen clearly, but his expression of coughing and ringing the bell revealed solemnity, calmness, and even a bit of majesty.After he rang the bell three times, the door opened and Marya Petrovna herself came out.She was wearing a white dress over a man's coat.In her hand she held a small lamp with a green shade, the light of which dyed her sleepy and freckled face, her thin neck, and the thin brown hair that slipped out of a bonnet. It's green.

"May I see the midwife?" asked the gentleman. "I am the midwife. What can you do?" The gentleman entered the hall, and Marya Petrovna saw standing before him a tall man, well-proportioned and no longer young, but with a handsome, stern face and bushy sideburns. "I am Kilyakov, the eighth-rank civil servant," he said. "I've come to ask you to go to my wife's. Please hurry up." "Well, sir ..." agreed the midwife. "I'm going to change immediately, please wait for me in the living room." Kilyakov took off his overcoat and went into the drawing room.The dim green light of the small lamps shone on the cheap furniture and the white patched covers, on the shabby flowers, on the ivy-clung doorjambs. ...the house smelled of geranium and carbolic acid.The small wall clock on the wall ticked timidly, as if embarrassed to see a man from outside.

"I'm ready, sir!" said Marya Petrovna, refreshed and refreshed, coming into the drawing-room about five minutes later, dressed and washed. "Let's go, sir!" "Yes, we must hurry ..." said Kilyakov. "By the way, I would like to ask a question that is not superfluous: how much do you charge for delivering a baby?" "Really, I don't know either..." said Marya Petrovna, smiling sheepishly. "Give it as you please. . . . " "No, I don't like it," said Kilyakov, looking icily at the midwife. "As the saying goes: Promises are more important than money. I don't want to be in your favor, and you don't want to be in mine. In order to avoid disputes, it is better for us to negotiate a price in advance."

"I, honestly, don't know. . . . There's no fixed price." "I work myself, so I'm used to respecting other people's work. I don't like injustice. If I don't pay you enough, it's just as unpleasant to me as you are asking for more money from me, so I don't like it. Strongly recommend that you state your price." "You know, the prices are very different!" "Well! . . . I cannot understand that you cannot decide, but in that case I must set the price myself. I can give you two rubles." "What are you talking about, God have mercy! . . . " said Marya Petrovna, blushing, and took a step back. "I'm ashamed. . . . I'd rather have no money than two rubles. Well, five rubles, if you like. . . . " "Two rubles, nothing more. I don't want to take your credit, but I don't plan to pay more."

"That's up to you, sir, but I won't go for two rubles. . . . " "But you have no legal right to refuse." "Okay, then I don't want money, just go for nothing." "I don't intend to trouble you for nothing. Every job should be paid, and I work myself, I understand. . . . " "It's only two rubles, I'm not going, sir . . . " Marya Petrovna affirmed mildly. Say. "If you like, I don't want money to go back and forth. ..." "In that case, I am sorry to have disturbed you in vain. . . . It is my honor to bid you farewell."

"You man, really . . . " said the midwife, and sent Kilyakov to the anteroom. "Well then, if you like, I'll go for three rubles." Kilyakov squinted his eyes, stared intently at the floor, thought for a full two minutes, then said firmly: "No!" He went out into the street.Surprised and embarrassed, the midwife waited for him to leave, then closed the door and went back to the bedroom. "This man is handsome and dignified, but what a queer man, God be with him . . . " she thought to herself, lying down. But before half an hour passed, the doorbell rang again.She got up from the bed, only to see the same Kilyakov again in the hall.

"The world today is so chaotic!" he said. "Neither the pharmacy nor the police nor the sweepers know the addresses of the other midwives, so I have to agree to your terms. I'll give you three rubles, but . . . Just a word: when I hire maids, and generally use other people's labor, it is always agreed in advance that no more money will be added to the payment, and no tip will be given. Everyone should take his own income." Marya Petrovna had not long heard Kilyakov speak, and already found him annoying and repulsive, and his smooth words weighed on her heart like a heavy weight.She changed her clothes and walked out into the street with him.It was quiet all around, but the weather was cold and cloudy, and even the light of the street lamps could not be seen clearly.Thin mud gurgled under his feet.The midwife looked intently, but could not see the cab. ... "Maybe the road is not far?" She asked.

"Not far," replied Kiryakov gloomily. They went through an alley, and another, and another. ... Kilyakov just walked, and even his gait exuded dignity and poise. "What dreadful weather!" the midwife said to him. But he was solemnly silent, evidently trying to walk on the smooth stone so as not to damage his galoshes.After a long walk the midwife finally entered an antechamber from which a large, well-furnished drawing room could be seen.There was not a soul in any of the rooms, not even in the bedroom where the mother lay. ... Usually in a place of childbirth, there are always countless relatives and old women, but here I can't see any of them.Only the cook was running around with a dull and frightened face, as if possessed by a demon.There was a loud moan. Three hours passed.Marya Petrovna was sitting on the maternity bed, talking softly.The two women had taken advantage of this time to get to know each other, to be acquainted with each other, to chat and marvel together. "You can't talk!" said the midwife uneasily, but she herself kept asking this and that. Then the door opened, and Kilyakov himself entered the bedroom quietly and solemnly.He sat down in a chair and stroked his sideburns.Silence followed. ... Marya Petrovna looked timidly at his handsome, impersonal, stone-like face, and waited for him to speak.But he refused to speak, not knowing what was on his mind.After waiting for a long time, the midwife Bai decided to speak on her own, and said what she usually said during childbirth: "Yes, thank God, there is a new person added to the world!" "Yes, it's pleasant," said Kilyakov, keeping a stone-like expression on his face, "but on the other hand, one more child costs more. Children are not born to eat." Dress warmly." There was a look of guilt on the mother's face, as if she had brought a living into the world without permission, or out of idle whim.Kilyakov sighed, got up, and went out solemnly. "What a man he is, God bless him..." said the midwife to the woman. "He has such a severe temper that he doesn't even smile..." said the mother, who has always been like this. . . . he was honest, just, prudent, and prudent, but all these qualities reached an extraordinary degree, which made the average person feel unbearable.His relatives were at odds with him, the servant couldn't stay any longer after working for a month, no one interacted with him, his wife and children were always in a nervous mood, and every step of the way was frightened.He didn't hit, he didn't swear, he had more virtues than faults, but when he was away from home everyone felt much more at ease and relaxed.Why this is so, even the mother herself does not understand. "Those pots have to be cleaned up and put in the storeroom," said Kilyakov, coming into the bedroom again. "These vials should also be put away, they will be useful in the future." What he said was simple and ordinary, but for some reason the midwife was frightened.She began to be afraid of this man, and shivered every time she heard his footsteps.In the morning when she was about to leave, she saw Kilyakov's youngest son, a pale schoolboy with cropped hair, drinking tea in the dining room. ... Kilyakov stood opposite him and said in a calm voice: "If you know how to eat, you must also know how to work. Well, you just drank a sip of tea, but you probably didn't think about the importance of drinking it. It costs money, and as for money, it is earned by labor. You have to eat while thinking about it..." The midwife looked at the boy's dull face and felt that even the air was heavy. Four walls would have failed to withstand the majesty of this extraordinary man.Confused with fear, and feeling a strong dislike for this man, she picked up her little bundle and hurried out of the room. On the way she remembered that she had forgotten to claim the three rubles.But she stopped, stood for a while, thought about it, waved her hand, and still walked forward.