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Long Meadow was the name of a wide, level stretch of ground on the right of the little stream Sniezhinka, nearly a mile from the Perekatovs'
property. The left bank, completely covered by thick young oak bushes, rose steeply up over the stream, which was almost overgrown with willow bushes, except for some small 'breeding-places,' the haunts of wild ducks. Half a mile from the stream, on the right side of Long Meadow, began the sloping, undulating uplands, studded here and there with old birch-trees, nut bushes, and guelder-roses.
The sun was setting. The mill rumbled and clattered in the distance, sounding louder or softer according to the wind. The seignorial drove of horses was lazily wandering about the meadows; a shepherd walked, humming a tune, after a flock of greedy and timorous sheep; the sheepdogs, from boredom, were running after the crows. Lutchkov walked up and down in the copse, with his arms folded. His horse, tied up near by, more than once whinnied in response to the sonorous neighing of the mares and fillies in the meadow. Avdey was ill-tempered and shy, as usual. Not yet convinced of Masha's love, he felt wrathful with her and annoyed with himself... but his excitement smothered his annoyance. He stopped at last before a large nut bush, and began with his riding-whip switching off the leaves at the ends of the twigs....
He heard a light rustle... he raised his head.... Ten paces from him stood Masha, all flushed from her rapid walk, in a hat, but with no gloves, in a white dress, with a hastily tied kerchief round her neck.
She dropped her eyes instantly, and softly nodded....
Avdey went awkwardly up to her with a forced smile.
'How happy I am...' he was beginning, scarcely audibly.
'I am very glad... to meet you...' Masha interrupted breathlessly. 'I usually walk here in the evening... and you...'
But Lutchkov had not the sense even to spare her modesty, to keep up her innocent deception.
'I believe, Marya Sergievna,' he p.r.o.nounced with dignity, 'you yourself suggested...'
'Yes... yes...' rejoined Masha hurriedly. 'You wished to see me, you wanted...' Her voice died away.
Lutchkov did not speak. Masha timidly raised her eyes.
'Excuse me,' he began, not looking at her, 'I'm a plain man, and not used to talking freely... to ladies... I... I wished to tell you... but, I fancy, you 're not in the humour to listen to me....'
'Speak.'
'Since you tell me to... well, then, I tell you frankly that for a long while now, ever since I had the honour of making your acquaintance...'
Avdey stopped. Masha waited for the conclusion of his sentence.
'I don't know, though, what I'm telling you all this for.... There's no changing one's destiny...'
'How can one know?...'
'I know!' responded Avdey gloomily. 'I am used to facing its blows!'
It struck Masha that this was not exactly the befitting moment for Lutchkov to rail against destiny.
'There are kind-hearted people in the world,' she observed with a smile; 'some even too kind....'
'I understand you, Marya Sergievna, and believe me, I appreciate your friendliness... I... I... You won't be angry?'
'No.... What do you want to say?'
'I want to say... that I think you charming... Marya Sergievna, awfully charming....'
'I am very grateful to you,' Masha interrupted him; her heart was aching with antic.i.p.ation and terror. 'Ah, do look, Mr. Lutchkov,' she went on--'look, what a view!'
She pointed to the meadow, streaked with long, evening shadows, and flushed red with the sunset.
Inwardly overjoyed at the abrupt change in the conversation, Lutchkov began admiring the view. He was standing near Masha....
'You love nature?' she asked suddenly, with a rapid turn of her little head, looking at him with that friendly, inquisitive, soft glance, which is a gift only vouchsafed to young girls.
'Yes... nature... of course...' muttered Avdey. 'Of course... a stroll's pleasant in the evening, though, I confess, I'm a soldier, and fine sentiments are not in my line.'
Lutchkov often repeated that he 'was a soldier.' A brief silence followed. Masha was still looking at the meadow.
'How about getting away?' thought Avdey. 'What rot it is, though! Come, more pluck!... Marya Sergievna...' he began, in a fairly resolute voice.
Masha turned to him.
'Excuse me,' he began, as though in joke, 'but let me on my side know what you think of me, whether you feel at all... so to say,... amiably disposed towards my person?'
'Mercy on us, how uncouth he is!' Masha said to herself. 'Do you know, Mr. Lutchkov,' she answered him with a smile, 'it's not always easy to give a direct answer to a direct question.'
'Still...'
'But what is it to you?'
'Oh, really now, I want to know...'
'But... Is it true that you are a great duellist? Tell me, is it true?'
said Masha, with shy curiosity. 'They do say you have killed more than one man?'
'It has happened so,' Avdey responded indifferently, and he stroked his moustaches.
Masha looked intently at him.
'This hand then...' she murmured. Meanwhile Lutchkov's blood had caught fire. For more than a quarter of an hour a young and pretty girl had been moving before his eyes.
'Marya Sergievna,' he began again, in a sharp and strange voice, 'you know my feelings now, you know what I wanted to see you for.... You've been so kind.... You tell me, too, at last what I may hope for....'
Masha twisted a wildflower in her hands.... She glanced sideways at Lutchkov, flushed, smiled, said,' What nonsense you do talk,' and gave him the flower.
Avdey seized her hand.
'And so you love me!' he cried.
Masha turned cold all over with horror. She had not had the slightest idea of making a declaration of love to Avdey: she was not even sure herself as yet whether she did care for him, and here he was forestalling her, forcing her to speak out--he must be misunderstanding her then.... This idea flashed quicker than lightning into Masha's head.
She had never expected such a speedy _denouement._... Masha, like an inquisitive child, had been asking herself all day: 'Can it be that Lutchkov cares for me?' She had dreamed of a delightful evening walk, a respectful and tender dialogue; she had fancied how she would flirt with him, make the wild creature feel at home with her, permit him at parting to kiss her hand... and instead of that...
Instead of that, she was suddenly aware of Avdey's rough moustaches on her cheek....
'Let us be happy,' he was whispering: 'there's no other happiness on earth!'
Masha shuddered, darted horror-stricken on one side, and pale all over, stopped short, one hand leaning on a birch-tree. Avdey was terribly confused.