Chapter 10 Eight

Pavel Petrovich had not long been involved in the conversation between his brother and the steward before he left alone.The steward was a tall, thin man who spoke in a low, consumptive voice.He blinked mischievously, and answered all of Nikolai Petrovich's instructions: "You are right, sir." He believed that every peasant was either a drunkard or a thief.Nikolai Petrovich was not discouraged by the creaking of unoiled axle pulleys and cracks like furniture made of wet wood, but Nikolai Petrovich sighed and pondered from time to time: no money , nothing can be done, but empty pockets.Arkady was right. Pavel Petrovich had more than once rescued his brother from a difficult situation. When the brother was struggling to get out of the embarrassment, he quietly approached the window, put his hands in his trouser pockets, and passed through the gap between his teeth. Said softly: "Maisje Puisvousdonner del Mar-gent." ① Take out the money in time to help.But that day he had no money and thought it best to go away.Farm chores bothered him, and Nikolai Petrovich, though zealous and industrious, did not use his strength to the bone.As a matter of fact, Nikolai Petrovich could not answer why he was wrong. "My brother is not smart enough, and is often deceived," he thought to himself.Nikolai Petrovich, on the contrary, thought highly of his brother's ability to manage affairs, and often asked him for advice. "I am weak by nature, and I have lived in the countryside all my life, but you have seen the world, are familiar with people's hearts, and have eyes that see everything." He said.But Pavel Petrovich turned his back on this and said nothing to his brother.

-------- ① French: However, I can give some money. Let us say that Pavel Petrovitch left his brother in the study, and went by himself into the narrow corridor that separated the front and rear rooms, stopped before a low door, thought for a moment, stroked his beard, He went up and knocked on the door. "Who is it? Come in," said Feodosya's voice. "I," replied Pavel Petrovich, pushing the door open. Feodosia was sitting on the stool with the baby in her arms. Now she got up quickly, handed the baby to the maid, let her into another room, and straightened her kerchief.

"Excuse me if I disturbed you," said Pavel Petrovich, not looking at her. "I'm here to invite you... I heard that people are going to be sent into the city today... order to buy some green tea for me." "Yes, sir," answered Fedosya, "how much do you want?" "I think half a pound would be enough. Oh, you have changed here," he glanced around, and his eyes flicked quickly across Fedosya's face. "Look at the curtain," he saw Fedosya Feeling at a loss, he added another sentence. "Yes, it was given to us by Nikolai Petrovich, and has been around for a long time."

"I haven't come to visit for a long time. Now your place is very tidy." "Thanks to Nikolai Petrovich's care," said Fedosya softly. "Is this better than the wing you used to live in?" He asked politely, but there was no smile on his face. "Of course much better, sir." "Who lives where you used to be now?" "The laundress." "Oh!" Pavel Petrovich said nothing more. "It's time for him to go now," Feodosya thought to herself.But he didn't leave, so she nailed it in front of him like a nail, stroking her fingers gently.

"Why did you order your child to be taken?" asked Pavel Petrovitch, breaking the silence. "I like children. Can you show them to me?" Fedosya blushed from both shyness and joy.She was afraid of Pavel Petrovitch because she had never spoken to her. "Dunyasha," she called at once, "bring Mitya (Fedotsia calls you all the family members). Oh, no, wait, first you must change his clothes." Feodosia went to the door. "It doesn't really matter," Pavel Petrovich said. "I'll come when I go," Fedosia replied, walking lightly into another room.

Pavel Petrovich was left alone, and this time he took another careful look around the room.The room is low and not too big, but it is clean and comfortable, with a nice smell of freshly painted floors mixed with chamomile and perilla.A row of lyre-backed chairs along the wall was bought by the late general during his campaign, and a small bed hung with tulle curtains was placed in the corner.Beside the bed was a tin box with a round lid.On the opposite wall hangs a large, dimly colored icon of the miracle-worker Nicholas, with an ever-burning lamp, and a porcelain egg wrapped in a red band that hangs from the icon's halo to the icon's chest.On the window sill were jars of jam made last year, tightly sealed, green in color, and on the paper lids Fedotia wrote "Vinegar Jam" with her own hand, which was reserved for Nikolai Petrovich. Yes, a long rope hangs from the ceiling and binds a birdcage.The short-tailed bullfinch in the cage kept chirping and jumping, the cage kept shaking, and the ramie seeds scattered on the floor, making tiny noises.A small wardrobe is placed between the windows.Above it hung photographs of Nikolai Petrovich in various poses, badly taken, the work of a door-to-door photographer.There was also a photograph of Fedosya herself, framed in a similarly bad way, so that nothing could be seen clearly except a tense face with a forced smile and closed eyes.Above the frame of Fedosya's picture hangs a portrait of General Yemolov in a cloak, who seems to be gazing grimly at the distant Caucasus mountains.Like, because the eyes are blocked by a pincushion hanging upside down from his forehead.

-------- ①Yemolov (N.O.PQRSRB, 1772-1861), a general at the time of Nicholas I, once guarded the Caucasus and participated in the defense against Napoleon in 1882 war. Five minutes passed, and there were still rustlings and whispers in the neighboring room.Pavel picked up from a cabinet an open book with a greasy cover, a volume of Masalisky's Sniper.He turned a few pages... The door of the inner room opened, and Fedosya brought Mitya in her arms.She changed the child into a red blouse with a lace collar, combed his hair and cleaned his face.The child breathed heavily like all healthy babies, his body kept moving, and his little hands kept moving. It seemed that the beautiful blouse had worked on him, and his chubby body looked quite comfortable.Feodosia also combed her hair and straightened her kerchief.She could have let her hair fall to her shoulders, and really, what could be more attractive than a beautiful young mother with a strong baby in her arms?

"What a fat fellow," said Pavel Petrovich softly, tickling Mitya's double chin with the long nail on the tip of his forefinger.The child staring at the gray bird suddenly smiled. "This is uncle," said Fedosia, pressing her face against Mitya, and pushing him.At this time, Dunyasha quietly put a lighted candle on the window sill, and put a small coin at the bottom of the candle. "How many months has he been?" asked Pavel Petrovich. "Six months, it will be seven months until the eleventh of this month." "It's almost eight months, Fedosya Nikolaevna?" Dunyasha put in murmuringly.

"No, seven months, how could it be eight months?" At this time the baby smiled again, his eyes were on the cabinet, and suddenly he scratched his mother's nose and mouth with his five little fingers. "The rascal," said Fedosya, but her face did not avert from his hand. "He's like my brother," Pavel Petrovich said. "Who else can he be like?" Fedosia thought to herself. "Yes," Pavel Petrovich seemed to say to himself, "it's exactly the same." He glanced at Fedosya carefully, almost sadly. "This is uncle," she reminded the child again, but her voice was as soft as a whisper.

"Ah, Pavel, so you are here!" suddenly came Nikolai Petrovich's voice. Pavel turned his head hastily and frowned, but couldn't help smiling at his brother's happy and grateful look. "Your boy is very handsome," he said, looking at his watch. "I abducted here to buy tea." After he finished speaking, he pretended to be indifferent, and walked out of the room in the blink of an eye. "Did he come in by himself?" Nikolai Petrovich asked Feodosya. "He himself, sir, knocked and came in." "Arkady never came again?" "No. Shall I go back to the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?"

"Why bother?" "I think it's best to avoid it for a while at first." "It's . "If only... hello, little fat boy," he said in the middle of the sentence, suddenly excited, approached the baby, kissed his little face, then stooped a little and kissed Fedosya's hand, That suet white jade-like hand against Mitya's red blouse. "Nikolai Petrovich, what's the matter with you?" She murmured and lowered her eyes, then raised them slightly... When she looked at him kindly but somewhat blankly, her eyes were speechless beauty! There was an interesting story about how Nikolai Petrovich became acquainted with Feodosya.Three years ago, he had to stay in a county town quite far away due to some business.The clean bedding and spotless room in the inn made him both happy and surprised, and he couldn't help thinking: Could it be that the female shopkeeper is a German?He then learned that the female shopkeeper was a Russian woman in her fifties.The man was clean, his face was intelligent, and his speech was methodical.After drinking tea and chatting with her, I fell in love with her.At that time, Nikolai Petrovich had just moved to a new house, and he did not want to keep the serfs in the house and wanted to find another hired worker. The shopkeeper complained that there were few people in the past and life was difficult, so she immediately suggested that she be the housekeeper of the new house. down.She lost her husband in her early years and had a daughter named Feodosia, mother and daughter depended on each other.Two weeks later Arina Savishna (so the new housekeeper was called) and Fedosya came to Marino and took up the lodge.Nikolai Petrovich was right, Arina kept the house in perfect order.As for Fedosia, she was seventeen years old, quiet and elegant, but no one paid any attention to her, she seldom appeared in public, and Nikolai Petrovich only occasionally saw Fedotia when she was in church in the district. The beautiful silhouette of Thea's fair face. After more than a year, Alina came to his study one morning, bowed deeply as usual, and asked if she could do her daughter a favor: sparks from the hearth had splashed into her eyes.Nikolai Petrovich lived in seclusion, treated his sickness at home, and even bought a medicine cabinet with a small amount of medicine, so Arina was immediately ordered to bring the patient.Fedosya was terrified when she heard that the master called her, but she followed her mother to the study.Nikolai Petrovich led her to a bright place in front of the window, held her head in his hands, examined her swollen eyes, prescribed an eyewash and prepared it on the spot, tore a strip of cloth from a handkerchief, and showed her how to soak it. Wash eyes with medicine.Fedosya was about to leave, when Arina said from one side: "You haven't kissed the master's hand to thank you, stupid girl." Nikolai Petrovich felt ashamed and did not offer her his hand, Instead, when she raised her face, she kissed the hairline on her forehead.It didn't take long for Fedosia's eyes to heal, but the impression she left on Nikolai Petrovich lingered for a long time. The upturned, white, lovely, somewhat frightened showy face seemed to flash before him frequently. , and the soft hair touched by his hands, the innocent lips, and the moist white teeth that glistened in the sun like strings of pearls.So he paid extra attention to her later in church, looking for opportunities to talk to her.But she often avoided him. Once, near dusk, she met him unexpectedly on a rye field, and immediately turned into a lush wheat field mixed with wormwood and cornflowers to hide.But he still saw the face among the golden wheat ears, the prying eyes of a small animal.He called out kindly: "Hello, Fedosya! I don't bite." "Hello!" she replied in a low voice, but she just didn't come out of the wheat field. She got to know him gradually, but always felt a little afraid.Unexpectedly, her mother died of cholera suddenly.Where could Fedosya go?She had inherited her mother's tidiness and prudence, but she was so young and lonely, and Nikolai Petrovich was so kind and simple... Needless to say what happened later. "So my brother came to you himself?" asked Nikolai Petrovitch. "He knocked and came in?" "Yes, sir." "Very well. Let me play with Mitya for a while." Nikolai Petrovich threw the child almost to the ceiling, which amused the child, but frightened the mother, and every time she threw her up, she stretched out her hand and was always ready to catch the little foot that was exposed outside the trouser leg. Pavel Petrovich returned to his study.The study is elegant, with beautiful wallpapers on the walls, his guns hanging on the colorful Persian tapestries, dark green baize on the walnut furniture, a Renaissance-style black oak bookcase, and a gorgeous desk. There was a bronze statue, and on the other side was a fireplace... He sat on the sofa, resting his hands on the back of his head, not moving or making a sound, his eyes staring at the ceiling in despair.Was he trying to hide the look on his face from Sibi guessing, or was it for some other reason?He stood up only once, put down the heavy curtains, and sat down on the sofa again.