Virgin Soil Part 35

"I don't like to somehow. You had better tell me."

"As you like. My father's name was Vikent. And what was your father's?

"He was called Osip."

"Then I shall call you Tatiana Osipovna."

"And I'll call you Mariana Vikentievna. That will be splendid."

"Won't you take a cup of tea with us, Tatiana Osipovna?"

"For once I will, Mariana Vikentievna, although Egoritch will scold me afterwards."

"Who is Egoritch?"

"Pavel, my husband."

"Sit down, Tatiana Osipovna."

"Thank you, Mariana Vikentievna."

Tatiana sat down and began sipping her tea and nibbling pieces of sugar.

She kept turning the lump of sugar round in her fingers, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her eye on the side on which she bit it. Mariana entered into conversation with her and she replied quite at her ease, asked questions in her turn, and volunteered various pieces of information. She simply wors.h.i.+pped Solomin and put her husband only second to him. She did not, however, care for the factory life.

"It's neither town nor country here. I wouldn't stop an hour if it were not for Va.s.sily Fedot.i.tch!"

Mariana listened to her attentively, while Nejdanov, sitting a little to one side, watched her and wondered at her interest. For Mariana it was all so new, but it seemed to him that he had seen crowds of women like Tatiana and spoken to them hundreds of times.

"Do you know, Tatiana Osipovna?" Mariana began at last; "you think that we want to teach the people, but we want to serve them."

"Serve them? Teach them; that's the best thing you can do for them. Look at me, for instance. When I married Egoritch I didn't so much as know how to read and write. Now I've learned, thanks to Va.s.sily Fedot.i.tch.

He didn't teach me himself, he paid an old man to do it. It was he who taught me. You see I'm still young, although I'm grown up."

Mariana was silent.

"I wanted to learn some sort of trade, Tatiana Osipovna," Mariana began; "we must talk about that later on. I'm not good at sewing, but if I could learn to cook, then I could go out as a cook."

Tatiana became thoughtful.

"Why a cook? Only rich people and merchants keep cooks; the poor do their own cooking. And to cook at a mess for workmen... why you couldn't do that!"

"But I could live in a rich man's house and get to know poor people. How else can I get to know them? I shall not always have such an opportunity as I have with you."

Tatiana turned her empty cup upside down on the saucer.

"It's a difficult matter," she said at last with a sigh, "and can't be settled so easily. I'll do what I can, but I'm not very clever. We must talk it over with Egoritch. He's clever if you like! Reads all sorts of books and has everything at his fingers' ends." At this point she glanced at Mariana who was rolling up a cigarette.

"You'll excuse me, Mariana Vikentievna, but if you really want to become simplified you must give that up." She pointed to the cigarette. "If you want to be a cook, that would never do. Everyone would see at once that you are a lady."

Mariana threw the cigarette out of the window.

"I won't smoke any more... It's quite easy to give that up. Women of the people don't smoke, so I suppose I ought not to."

"That's quite true, Mariana Vikentievna. Our men indulge in it, but not the women. And here's Va.s.sily Fedot.i.tch coming to see you. Those are his steps. You ask him. He'll arrange everything for you in the best possible way."

Solomin's voice was heard at the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Come in, come in!" Mariana called out.

"It's an English habit of mine," Solomin observed as he came in. "Well, and how are you getting on? Not homesick yet, eh? I see you're having tea with Tatiana. You listen to her, she's a sensible person. My employer is coming today. It's rather a nuisance. He's staying to dinner. But it can't be helped. He's the master."

"What sort of a man is he?" Nejdanov asked, coming out of his corner.

"Oh, he's not bad... knows what he's about. One of the new generation.

He's very polite, wears cuffs, and has his eyes about him no less than the old sort. He would skin a flint with his own hands and say, 'Turn to this side a little, please... there is still a living spot here... I must clean it!' He's nice enough to me, because I'm necessary to him.

I just looked in to say that I may not get a chance of seeing you again today. Dinner will be brought to you here, and please don't show yourselves in the yard. Do you think the Sipiagins will make a search for you, Mariana? Will they make a hunt?"

"I don't think so," Mariana replied.

"And I think they will," Nejdanov remarked.

"It doesn't matter either way," Solomin continued. "You must be a little careful at first, but in a short time you can do as you like."

"Yes; only there's one thing," Nejdanov observed, "Markelov must know where I am; he must be informed."

"But why?"

"I am afraid it must be done--for the cause. He must always know my whereabouts. I've given my word. But he's quite safe, you know!"

"Very well. We can send Pavel."

"And will my clothes be ready for me?"

"Your special costume you mean? Why, of course... the same masquerade.

It's not expensive at any rate. Goodbye. You must be tired. Come, Tatiana."

Mariana and Nejdanov were left alone again.

XXVIII

FIRST they clasped each other's hands, then Mariana offered to help him tidy his room. She immediately began unpacking his portmanteau and bag, declining his offer of help on the ground that she must get used to work and wished to do it all herself. She hung his clothes on nails which she discovered in the table drawer and knocked into the wall with the back of a hairbrush for want of a hammer. Then she arranged his linen in a little old chest of drawers standing in between the two windows.