Part 56

“How can we thank you enough, Vassily Fedotitch?” She looked at him with emotion. Solomin stroked one of her hands gently. “I should say it’s not worth thanking for, but that wouldn’t be true. I had better say that your thanks give me the greatest of pleasure. So we are quits. Good morning. Come along, Pavel.”

Mariana and Nejdanov were left alone.

She rushed up to him and looked at him with the same expression with which she had looked at Solomin, only with even greater delight, emotion, radiance: “Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed. “We are beginning a new life... at last! At last! You can’t believe how this poor little room, where we are to spend a few days, seems sweet and charming compared to those hateful palaces! Are you glad?”

Nejdanov took her hands and pressed them against his breast.

“I am happy, Mariana, to begin this new life with you! You will be my guiding star, my support, my strength—”

“Dear, darling Aliosha! But stop—we must wash and tidy ourselves a little. I will go into my room... and you... stay here. I won’t be a minute—”

Mariana went into the other room and shut the door. A minute later she opened it half-way and, putting her head through, said: “Isn’t Solomin nice!” Then she shut the door again and the key turned in the lock.

Nejdanov went up to the window and looked out into the garden.... One old, very old, apple tree particularly attracted his attention. He shook himself, stretched, opened his portmanteau, but took nothing out of it; he became lost in thought....

A quarter of an hour later Mariana returned with a beaming, freshly-washed face, brimming over with gaiety, and a few minutes later Tatiana, Pavel’s wife, appeared with the samovar, tea things, rolls, and cream.

In striking contrast to her gipsy-like husband she was a typical Russian—buxom, with masses of flaxen hair, which she wore in a thick plait twisted round a horn comb. She had coarse though pleasant features, good-natured grey eyes, and was dressed in a very neat though somewhat faded print dress. Her hands were clean and well-shaped, though large. She bowed composedly, greeted them in a firm, clear accent without any sing-song about it, and set to work arranging the tea things.

Mariana went up to her.

“Let me help you, Tatiana. Only give me a napkin.”

“Don’t bother, miss, we are used to it. Vassily Fedotitch told me to. If you want anything please let us know. We shall be delighted to do anything we can.”

“Please don’t call me miss, Tatiana. I am dressed like a lady, but I am... I am quite—”

Tatiana’s penetrating glance disconcerted Mariana; she ceased.

“And what are you then?” Tatiana asked in her steady voice.

“If you really want to know... I am certainly a lady by birth. But I want to get rid of all that. I want to become like all simple women.”

“Oh, I see! You want to become simplified, like so many do nowadays.”

“What did you say, Tatiana? To become simplified?”

“Yes, that’s a word that has sprung up among us. To become simplified means to be like the common people. Teaching the people is all very well in its way, but it must be a difficult task, very difficult! I hope you’ll get on.”

“To become simplified!” Mariana repeated. “Do you hear, Aliosha, you and I have now become simplified!”

“Is he your husband or your brother?” Tatiana asked, carefully washing the cups with her large, skilful hands as she looked from one to the other with a kindly smile.

“No,” Mariana replied; “he is neither my husband nor my brother.”

Tatiana raised her head.

“Then you are just living together freely? That also happens very often now. At one time it was to be met with only among nonconformists, but nowadays other folks do it too. Where there is God’s blessing you can live in peace without the priest’s aid. We have some living like that at the factory. Not the worst of folk either.”

“What nice words you use, Tatiana! ‘Living together freely’... I like that. I’ll tell you what I want to ask of you, Tatiana. I want to make or buy a dress, something like yours, only a little plainer. Then I want shoes and stockings and a kerchief—everything like you have. I’ve got some money.”

“That’s quite easy, miss.... There, there, don’t be cross. I won’t call you miss if you don’t like it. But what am I to call you?”

“Call me Mariana.”