The Darling | Page 5

plainer, and when people met her in the street they did not
look at her as they used to, and did not smile to her; evidently her best
years were over and left behind, and now a new sort of life had begun
for her, which did not bear thinking about. In the evening Olenka sat in
the porch, and heard the band playing and the fireworks popping in the
Tivoli, but now the sound stirred no response. She looked into her yard
without interest, thought of nothing, wished for nothing, and afterwards,
when night came on she went to bed and dreamed of her empty yard.
She ate and drank as it were unwillingly.
And what was worst of all, she had no opinions of any sort. She saw
the objects about her and understood what she saw, but could not form
any opinion about them, and did not know what to talk about. And how
awful it is not to have any opinions! One sees a bottle, for instance, or
the rain, or a peasant driving in his cart, but what the bottle is for, or the
rain, or the peasant, and what is the meaning of it, one can't say, and
could not even for a thousand roubles. When she had Kukin, or
Pustovalov, or the veterinary surgeon, Olenka could explain everything,
and give her opinion about anything you like, but now there was the
same emptiness in her brain and in her heart as there was in her yard
outside. And it was as harsh and as bitter as wormwood in the mouth.
Little by little the town grew in all directions. The road became a street,

and where the Tivoli and the timber-yard had been, there were new
turnings and houses. How rapidly time passes! Olenka's house grew
dingy, the roof got rusty, the shed sank on one side, and the whole yard
was overgrown with docks and stinging-nettles. Olenka herself had
grown plain and elderly; in summer she sat in the porch, and her soul,
as before, was empty and dreary and full of bitterness. In winter she sat
at her window and looked at the snow. When she caught the scent of
spring, or heard the chime of the church bells, a sudden rush of
memories from the past came over her, there was a tender ache in her
heart, and her eyes brimmed over with tears; but this was only for a
minute, and then came emptiness again and the sense of the futility of
life. The black kitten, Briska, rubbed against her and purred softly, but
Olenka was not touched by these feline caresses. That was not what she
needed. She wanted a love that would absorb her whole being, her
whole soul and reason--that would give her ideas and an object in life,
and would warm her old blood. And she would shake the kitten off her
skirt and say with vexation:
"Get along; I don't want you!"
And so it was, day after day and year after year, and no joy, and no
opinions. Whatever Mavra, the cook, said she accepted.
One hot July day, towards evening, just as the cattle were being driven
away, and the whole yard was full of dust, some one suddenly knocked
at the gate. Olenka went to open it herself and was dumbfounded when
she looked out: she saw Smirnin, the veterinary surgeon, grey-headed,
and dressed as a civilian. She suddenly remembered everything. She
could not help crying and letting her head fall on his breast without
uttering a word, and in the violence of her feeling she did not notice
how they both walked into the house and sat down to tea.
"My dear Vladimir Platonitch! What fate has brought you?" she
muttered, trembling with joy.
"I want to settle here for good, Olga Semyonovna," he told her. "I have
resigned my post, and have come to settle down and try my luck on my
own account. Besides, it's time for my boy to go to school. He's a big
boy. I am reconciled with my wife, you know."
"Where is she?' asked Olenka.
"She's at the hotel with the boy, and I'm looking for lodgings."
"Good gracious, my dear soul! Lodgings? Why not have my house?

Why shouldn't that suit you? Why, my goodness, I wouldn't take any
rent!" cried Olenka in a flutter, beginning to cry again. "You live here,
and the lodge will do nicely for me. Oh dear! how glad I am!"
Next day the roof was painted and the walls were whitewashed, and
Olenka, with her arms akimbo walked about the yard giving directions.
Her face was beaming with her old smile, and she was brisk and alert as
though she had waked from a long sleep. The veterinary's