At the luckless word "married," Yourii's face grew redder still, and in
his eyes there was a malevolent look. He saw before him an entire
romance of the usual provincial type; rose-pink billets-doux, sisters
as confidantes, orthodox matrimony, with its inevitable commonplace
sequel, home, wife, and babies--the one thing on earth that he dreaded
most.
"Oh! Enough of all that twaddle, please!" he said in so sharp a tone
that Lialia was amazed.
"Don't make such a fuss!" she exclaimed, pettishly. "If you are in
love, what does it matter? I can't think why you always pose as such an
extraordinary hero."
This last sentence had a touch of feminine spite in it, and the shaft
struck home. Then, with a graceful movement of her dress which
disclosed her dainty open-work stockings, she turned abruptly on her
heel like some petulant princess, and went indoors.
Yourii watched her, with anger in his dark eyes, as he tore open the
envelope.
YOURII NICOLAIJEVITCH: "If you have time, and the wish to do so, will you come to the
monastery to-day? I shall be there with my aunt. She is preparing for
the Communion, and will be in church the whole time. It will be
dreadfully dull for me and I want to talk to you about lots of things.
Do come. Perhaps I ought not to have written to you, but, anyhow, I
shall expect you."
In a moment all that had occupied his thoughts vanished, as with a
thrill of pleasure almost physical he read and read the letter. This
pure, charming girl in one short phrase had thus in naïve, trusting
fashion revealed to him the secret of her love. It was as though she
had come to him, helpless and pained, unable to resist the love that
made her give herself up to him, yet not knowing what might befall. So
near to him now seemed the goal, that Yourii trembled at the thought of
possession. He strove to smile ironically, but the effort failed. His
whole being was filled with joy, and such was his exhilaration that,
like a bird, he felt ready to soar above the tree-tops, away, afar,
into the blue, sunlit air.
Towards evening he hired a droschky and drove towards the monastery,
smiling on the world timidly, almost in confusion. On reaching the
landing-stage he took a boat, and was rowed by a stalwart peasant to
the hill.
It was not until the boat got clear of the reeds into the broad, open
stream that he became conscious that his happiness was entirely due to
the little rose-coloured letter.