fall on my knees before Masha and apologize for the weather. When
the peasants made a noise in the yard I felt guilty also. For hours
at a time I sat still in one place, thinking of nothing but what a
splendid person Masha was, what a wonderful person. I loved her
passionately, and I was fascinated by everything she did, everything
she said. She had a bent for quiet, studious pursuits; she was fond
of reading for hours together, of studying. Although her knowledge
of farming was only from books she surprised us all by what she
knew; and every piece of advice she gave was of value; not one was
ever thrown away; and, with all that, what nobility, what taste,
what graciousness, that graciousness which is only found in
well-educated people.

To this woman, with her sound, practical intelligence, the disorderly
surroundings with petty cares and sordid anxieties in which we were
living now were an agony: I saw that and could not sleep at night;
my brain worked feverishly and I had a lump in my throat. I rushed
about not knowing what to do.

I galloped to the town and brought Masha books, newspapers, sweets,
flowers; with Stepan I caught fish, wading for hours up to my neck
in the cold water in the rain to catch eel-pout to vary our fare;
I demeaned myself to beg the peasants not to make a noise; I plied
them with vodka, bought them off, made all sorts of promises. And
how many other foolish things I did!

At last the rain ceased, the earth dried. One would get up at four
o'clock in the morning; one would go out into the garden--where
there was dew sparkling on the flowers, the twitter of birds, the
hum of insects, not one cloud in the sky; and the garden, the