CHAPTER II
Raisky entered the University, and spent the summer vacation with hisaunt, Tatiana Markovna Berezhkov.
His aunt lived in a family estate which Boris had inherited from hismother--a piece of land on the Volga, close by a little town, with fiftysouls and two residences, one built of stone and now neglected, theother a wooden building built by Boris's father. In this newer houseTatiana Markovna lived with two orphan girls of six and five years oldrespectively, who had been left in her care by a niece whom she hadloved as a daughter.
Tatiana Markovna had an estate and a village of her own, but after thedeath of Raisky's parents she had established herself on their littleestate, which she ruled like a miniature kingdom, wisely, economically,carefully and despotically. She never permitted Boris's guardian tointerfere in her business, took no heed of documents, papers, or deeds,but carried on the affairs of the estate according to the practice ofits former owners. She told Boris's guardian that all the documents,papers and deeds were inscribed in her memory, and that she would renderaccount to Boris when he came of age; until that day came she, accordingto the verbal instructions of his parents, was mistress of the estate.Boris's guardian was content. It was an excellent estate, and could notbe better administered than by the old lady.
What a Paradise Raisky evolved for himself in this corner of the earth,from which he had been taken away in his childhood and where he hadspent many a summer visit in his schooldays. What views in theneighbourhood! Every window in the house framed a lovely landscape. Fromone side could be seen the Volga with its steep banks; from the otherswide meadows and gorges, and the whole seemed to melt into the distantblue hills. From the third side could be seen fields, villages, and partof the town. The air was cool and invigorating, and as refreshing as abathe on a summer day.
In the immediate neighbourhood of the two houses the great park, withits dark alleys, arbours and seats, was kept in good order, but beyondthese limits it was left wild. There were broad stretching elms, cherryand apple trees, service trees, and there were lime trees intended toform an avenue, which lost itself in a wood in the friendlyneighbourhood of pines and birches. Suddenly the whole ended in aprecipice, thickly overgrown with bushes, which overhung a plain aboutone and a-half versts in breadth along the banks of the Volga.
Nearer the wooden house lay the vegetable garden, and just in front ofits windows lay the flower garden. Tatiana Markovna liked to have aspace clear of trees in front of the house, so that the place wasflooded with sunshine and the scent of flowers. From the other side ofthe house one could watch all that was going on in the courtyard andcould see the servants' quarters, the kitchens, the hayricks, and thestable. In the depths of the courtyard stood the old house, gloomy,always in shadow, stained with age, with here and there a cracked windowpane, with heavy doors fastened by heavy bolts, and the path leading upto it overgrown with grass. But on the new house the sun streamed frommorning to night; the flower garden, full of roses and dahlias,surrounded it like a garland, and the gay flowers seemed to be trying toforce their way in through the windows. Swallows nesting under the eavesflew hither and thither; in the garden and the trees there werehedge-sparrows, siskins and goldfinches, and when darkness fell thenightingale began to sing. Around the flowers there were swarms of bees,humble-bees, dragon-flies, and glittering butterflies; and in thecorners cats and kittens stretched themselves comfortably in thesunshine.
In the house itself peace and joy reigned. The rooms were small, butcosy. Antique pieces of furniture had been brought over from the greathouse, as had the portraits of Raisky's parents and grandparents. Thefloors were painted, waxed and polished; the stoves were adorned withold-fashioned tiles, also brought over from the other house; thecupboards were full of plate and silver; there were old Dresden cups andfigures, Chinese ornaments, tea-pots, sugar-basins, heavy old spoons.Round stools bound with brass, and inlaid tables stood in pleasantcorners.
In Tatiana Markovna's sitting-room stood an old-fashioned carved bureauwith a mirror, urns, lyres, and genii. But she had hung up the mirror,because she said it was a hindrance to writing when you stared at yourown stupid face. The room also contained a round table where she lunchedand drank her tea and coffee, and a rather hard leather-covered armchairwith a high back. Grandmother {1} was old-fashioned; she did not approveof lounging, but held herself upright and was simple and reserved inher manners.
How beautiful Boris thought her! And indeed she was beautiful.
Tall, neither stout nor thin, a vivacious old lady ... not indeed an oldlady, but a woman of fifty, with quick black eyes, and so kind andgracious a smile that even when she was angry, and the storm-lightflickered in her eyes, the blue sky could be observed behind the clouds.She had a slight moustache, and, on her left cheek, near the chin, abirth-mark with a little bunch of hairs, details which gave her face aremarkable expression of kindness.
She cut her grey hair short, and went about in house, yard, garden withher head uncovered, but on feast days, or when guests were expected sheput on a cap. The cap could not be kept in its place, and did not suither at all, so that after about five minutes she would with apologiesremove the tiresome headdress.
In the mornings she wore a wide white blouse with a girdle and bigpockets; in the afternoon she put on a brown dress, and on feast days aheavy rustling silk dress that gleamed like silver, and over it avaluable shawl which only Vassilissa, her housekeeper, was allowed totake out of the press.
"Uncle Ivan Kusmich brought it from the East," she used to boast. "Itcost three hundred gold roubles, and now no money would buy it."
At her girdle hung a bunch of keys, so that Grandmother could be heardfrom afar like a rattlesnake when she crossed the yard or the garden. Atthe sound the coachmen hid their pipes in their boots, because themistress feared nothing so much as fire, and for that reason countedsmoking as the greatest of crimes. The cooks seized the knife, the spoonor the broom; Kirusha, who had been joking with Matrona, hurried to thedoor, while Matrona hurried to the byre.
If the approaching clatter gave warning that the mistress was returningto the house Mashutka quickly took off her dirty apron and wiped herhands on a towel or a bit of rag, as the case might be. Spitting on herhands she smoothed down her dry, rebellious hair, and covered the roundtable with the finest of clean tablecloths. Vassilissa, silent, serious,of the same age as her mistress, buxom, but faded with much confinementindoors, would bring in the silver service with the steaming coffee.
Mashutka effaced herself as far as possible in a corner. The mistressinsisted on cleanliness in her servants, but Mashutka had no gift forkeeping herself spotless. When her hands were clean she could do nothing,but felt as if everything would slip through her fingers. If she wastold to do her hair on Sunday, to wash and to put on tidy clothes, shefelt the whole day as if she had been sewn into a sack. She only seemedto be happy when, smeared and wet with washing the boards, the windows,the silver, or the doors, she had become almost unrecognisable, and had,if she wanted to rub her nose or her eyebrows, to use her elbow.
Vassilissa, on the contrary, respected herself, and was the only tidywoman among all the servants. She had been in the service of hermistress since her earliest days as her personal maid, had never beenseparated from her, knew every detail of her life, and now lived withher as housekeeper and confidential servant. The two women communicatedwith one another in monosyllables. Tatiana Markovna hardly needed togive instructions to Vassilissa, who knew herself what had to be done.If something unusual was required, her mistress did not give orders, butsuggested that this or that should be done.
Vassilissa was the only one of her subjects whom Tatiana Markovnaaddressed by her full name. If she did address them by their baptismalnames they were names that could not be compressed nor clipped, as forexample Ferapont or Panteleimon. The village elder she did indeedaddress as Stepan Vassilich, but the others were to her Matroshka,Mashutka, Egorka and so on. The unlucky individual whom she addressedwith his Christian name and
patronymic knew that a storm was impending."Here, Egor Prokhorich! where were you all day yesterday?" Or "SimeonVassilich, you smoked a pipe yesterday in the hayrick. Take care!"
She would get up in the middle of the night to convince herself that aspark from a pipe had not set fire to anything, or that there was notsomeone walking about the yard or the coachhouse with a lantern.
Under no consideration could the gulf between the "people" and thefamily be bridged. She was moderately strict and moderately considerate,kindly, but always within the limits of her ideas of government. IfIrene, Matrona or another of the maids gave birth to a child, shelistened to the report of the event with an air of injured dignity, butgave Vassilissa to understand that the necessaries should be provided;and would add, "Only don't let me see the good-for-nothing." AfterMatrona or Irene had recovered she would keep out of her mistress'ssight for a month or so; then it was as if nothing had happened, and thechild was put out in the village.
If any of her people fell sick, Tatiana got up in the night, sent himspirits and embrocation, but next day she would send him either to theinfirmary or oftener to the "wise woman," but she did not send for adoctor. But if one of her own relatives, her "grandchildren" showed abad tongue, or a swollen face, Kirusha or Vlass must immediately ridepost haste to the town for the doctor.
The "wise woman" was a woman in the suburbs who treated the "people"with simple remedies, and rapidly relieved them of their maladies. Itdid, indeed, happen that many a man remained crippled for life after hertreatment. One lost his voice and could only crow, another lost an eye,or a piece of his jawbone, but the pain was gone and he went back towork. That seemed satisfactory to the patient as well as the proprietorof the estate. And as the "wise woman" only concerned herself withhumble people, with serfs and the poorer classes, the medical professiondid not interfere with her.
Tatiana Markovna fed her servants decently with cabbage soup and groats,on feast-days with rye and mutton; at Christmas geese and pigs wereroasted. She allowed nothing out of the common on the servants' table orin their dress, but she gave the surplus from her own table now to onewoman, now to another.
Vassilissa drank tea immediately after her mistress; after her came themaids in the house, and last old Yakob. On feast days, on account of thehardness of their work, a glass of brandy was handed to the coachman,the menservants and the Starost.
As soon as the tea was cleared away in the morning a stout, chubby-facedwoman pushed her way into the room, always smiling. She was maid to thegrandchildren, Veroshka and Marfinka. Close at her heels thetwelve-year-old assistant, and together they brought the childrento breakfast.
Never knowing which of the two to kiss first, Tatiana Markovna wouldbegin: "Well, my birdies, how are you? Veroshka, darling, you havebrushed your hair?"
"And me, Granny, me," Marfinka would cry.
"Why are Marfinka's eyes red? Has she been crying?" Tatiana Markovnainquired anxiously of the maid. "The sun has dazzled her. Are hercurtains well drawn, you careless girl? I must see."
In the maid's room sat three or four young girls who sat all day longsewing, or making bobbin lace, without once stretching their limbs allday, because the mistress did not like to see idle hands. In theante-room there sat idly the melancholy Yakob, Egorka, who was sixteenand always laughing, with two or three lackeys. Yakob did nothing butwait at table, where he idly flicked away the flies, and as idly changedthe plates. He was almost too idle to speak, and when the visitorsaddressed him he answered in a tone indicating excessive boredom or aguilty conscience. Because he was quiet, never seriously drunk, and didnot smoke, his master had made him butler; he was also very zealous atchurch.
{1} Tatiana Markovna was addressed by her grand-nieces and hergrand-nephew as Grandmother.
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