Soap-Bubble Stories Part 11

"Oh, Boris, come with me!" she cried, pa.s.sionately, "I can't bear it!"

Boris, with the tears falling slowly from his eyes, followed his sister up to the tower, and there they remained till evening, straining their eyes over the wide stretch of desolate-looking water.

CHAPTER IV.

It was some months afterwards. The flood was over, and the people of Viletna had begun to rebuild their log houses, and collect what could be found of their scattered belongings.

A portion of the great d.y.k.e had remained standing, so that the lake did not completely empty itself; and the peasants were able, with some help from the Government, to rebuild it.

Everyone had suffered; but the heaviest blow had fallen upon the great house, for Madame Olsheffsky never returned to it. Her boat had been upset and carried away, with the sudden force of the current, and though Alexis managed to save himself by clinging to an uprooted pine tree, Madame Olsheffsky had been torn from him, and sucked under by the rush of the furious water.

Elena's face had grown pale and thin during these sad weeks, and she and Boris looked older; for they had begun to face the responsibilities of life, with no kind mother to stand between them and the hard reality.

To add to their misfortunes, the wooden box containing the t.i.tle-deeds of their estate, and all their other valuable papers; had been swept away with the rest of Lawyer Drovnine's property, and there seemed no chance that it would ever be recovered again.

In the interval, as no defence was forthcoming, the lawsuit had been decided in favour of the Olsheffsky's cousin; and the children were now expecting every day to receive the notice that would turn them out of their old home, and leave them without a place in the world that really belonged to them.

The few relations they had, made no sign to show they knew of their existence; but they were not without friends, and one of the first and truest of these was Volodia.

"Don't trouble about this lawsuit, Elena Andreevna," he said, on one of his frequent visits to the great house. "If the wickedness of the world is so great, that they rob you of what rightfully belongs to you; take no notice of it--it is the will of G.o.d. _You_ will come down with Boris Andreevitch, and Daria Andreevna, to my house, where there is plenty of room for everyone; and my wife will be proud and honoured. Then Var-Vara can live with her brother close by--a good honest man, who is well able to provide for her; and Adam will hire a little place, and retire with his savings. Alexis shall find a home for Toulu--You know Alexis works for his father on the farm now, and is really getting quite active. You see, _Matoushka_, every one is nicely provided for, and no one will suffer!"

"But how can we all live with you, when we have no money?" said Elena.

"Good, kind Volodia! It would not be fair for us to be a burden to you!"

"How can you talk of burdens, Elena Andreevna! It's quite wrong of you, and really almost makes me angry! Your grandfather gave me all the money with which I started in life, and it's no more than paying back a little of it. Besides, think of the honour! Think what a proud thing it will be for us. All the village will be envious!"

Elena smiled sadly. "I suppose we shall have a little money left, shan't we, Volodia?"

"Of course, _Matoushka_. Plenty for everything you'll want."

And so, after much argument and discussion, with many tears and sad regrets, the three children said good-bye to the great house; and drove with Toulu down the hill for the last time, to Volodia's large new wooden house, which had been re-built in a far handsomer style than the log hut he had lived in formerly.

CHAPTER V.

Fortunately the winter that year was late in coming, so that the peasants of Viletna were able to build some sort of shelter for themselves before it set in with real severity.

Volodia's house, which stood in the centre of the village, had been finished long before any of his neighbours'.

"That's what comes of being a rich man," they said to each other, not grumbling, but stating a fact. "He can employ what men he likes; it is a fine thing to have money."

Volodia's shop had always been popular, but with the arrival of the three children it became ten times more so.

Everyone wished to show sympathy for their misfortunes; and all those who were sufficiently well off, brought a little present, and left it with Volodia's wife, with many mysterious nods and explanations.

"Don't tell _them_ anything about it, but just cook it. It's a chicken we reared ourselves--one of those saved from the flood."

Volodia would have liked to give the things back again, but his wife declared this would be such an affront to the donors that she really couldn't undertake to do it.

"It's not for ourselves, Volodia Ivanovitch, but for those poor innocent children; I can't refuse what's kindly meant. Many's the _rouble_ Anna Olsheffsky (of blessed memory) has given to the people here, and why shouldn't they be allowed to do their part?"

Meanwhile, Elena and Boris, were getting slowly used to their changed life. It still seemed more like a dream than a reality; but they began to feel at home in the wooden house, and Elena had even commenced to learn some needlework from Var-Vara, and to help Maria in as many ways as that active old woman would allow of.

"Don't you touch it, Elena Andreevna," she would say, anxiously, "it's not fit you should work like us. Leave it to Adam, and Var-Vara, and me. We're used to it, and it's suitable."

And so Elena had to give herself up to being waited upon as tenderly by the old servants, as she had been during their time of happiness at the great house.

Boris had no time for brooding, for he was working hard at his lessons with the village Priest; and as to little Daria, she had quickly adapted herself to the new surroundings.

She played with Tulipan, made snow castles in Volodia's side yard, and whenever she had the chance, enjoyed a sledge drive with Alexis, in the forest.

"If only mamma were here, I should be quite happy," she said to Elena.

"It does seem so dreadful, Elena, to think of that horrible flood. You don't think it will come again, do you?"

Elena's eyes filled with tears, as she answered rea.s.suringly.

"You'll see mamma some day, Daria, if you're a very good girl; and meantime, you know, she would like you to learn your lessons, and be as obedient as possible to Var-Vara."

"Well, I do try, Elena, but she is so tiresome sometimes. She won't let me play with the village children! They're very nice, but she says they're peasants. I'm sure I try to remember what you teach me, though the things _are_ so difficult. I'm not so _very_ lazy, Elena!"

Elena stooped her dark brown head over the little golden one.

"You're a darling, Daria! I know you do your best, when you don't forget all about it!"

Volodia Ivanovitch had devoted his two best rooms to the children. He had at first wished to give up the whole of his house to them, with the exception of one bedroom; but Elena had developed a certain strength of character and resolution during their troubles, and absolutely refused to listen to this idea; so that finally the old man was obliged to give way, and turn his attention to arranging the rooms, in a style of what he considered, surpa.s.sing elegance and comfort.

They were plain and simple, with fresh boarded walls and pine floors.

The furniture had all been brought from the great house, chosen by Volodia with very little idea of its suitability, but because of something in the colour or form that struck him as being particularly handsome.

A large gilt console table, with marble top, and looking gla.s.s, took up nearly one side of Elena's bedroom; and a gla.s.s chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling--where it was always interfering with the heads of the unwary. The bed had faded blue satin hangings; and a large Turkish rug and two ricketty gilt chairs, completed an effect which Uncle Volodia and his wife considered to be truly magnificent.

Boris slept in the room adjoining.

This was turned into a sitting-room in the daytime, and furnished in the same luxurious manner. Chairs with enormous coats-of-arms, a vast Dresden china vase with a gilt cover to it; and in the corner a gold picture of a Saint with a little lamp before it, always kept burning night and day by the careful Var-Vara--Var-Vara in her bright red gold-bordered gown, and the strange tiara on her head, decorated with its long ribbons.

"If ever they wanted the help of the Saints, it's now," she would say, as she filled the gla.s.s bowl with oil, and hung it up by its chains again. "The wickedness of men has been too much for them. Ae! Ae!

It's the Lord's will."

CHAPTER VI.

Volodia Ivanovitch's house stood close to the village street, so that as Elena looked from her windows she could see the long stretch of white road--the snow piled up in great walls on either side--the two rows of straggling, half-finished log huts, ending with the ruined Church, and the new posting-house.

In the distance, the flat surface of the frozen lake, the dark green of the pine forest, and the wide stretches of level country; broken here and there by the tops of the scattered wooden fences.

Up the street the sledges ran evenly, the horses jangling the bells on their great arched collars, the drivers in their leather fur-lined coats, cracking their whips and shouting.