Liudmilla met Sasha one day in the street and said to him:
"To-morrow the Head-Master's wife is having a birthday party for her
eldest daughter--is the old lady going?"
"I don't know," said Sasha.
But already the hope stirred within him, not so much a hope as a
desire, that Kokovkina would go and Liudmilla come and stay with him a
while. In the evening he reminded Kokovkina of the morrow's party.
"I'd almost forgotten it," said Kokovkina, "of course, I must go. She's
such a charming girl."
And, next day, as soon as Sasha had returned from school, Kokovkina
went to the Khripatch's. Sasha was delighted with the idea that he had
helped to get Kokovkina out of the house that day. He felt certain that
Liudmilla would find time to come.
So it happened--Liudmilla came. She kissed Sasha's cheek and gave
him her hand to kiss, and again she laughed and he blushed. A moist,
sweet and flower-like odour came from Liudmilla's clothes--rose and
orris, the fleshly and voluptuous orris blooming among roses. Liudmilla
brought a long narrow box wrapped up in thin paper through which showed
dimly a yellow label. She sat down, put the box on her knees, and
looked archly at Sasha.
"Do you like dates?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," said Sasha with an amused grimace.
"Well, I've got some here for you," she said with a serious air.
She took the cover from the box and said:
"Take some."
She herself took the dates one by one from the box and put them in
Sasha's mouth, making him kiss her hand after each. Sasha said:
"But my lips are sticky."
"That doesn't matter much. Kiss, it's good for your health," replied
Liudmilla gaily. "I don't object."
"Perhaps I'd better give you all the kisses at once," said Sasha
laughingly.
And he stretched out his hand to take a date himself.
"You'll cheat me! You'll cheat, me!" exclaimed Liudmilla, and quickly
shut the lid down, pinching Sasha's fingers.
"What an idea! I'm quite honest. I won't cheat you," said Sasha
reassuringly.
"No, no, I don't believe you," asserted Liudmilla.
"Well, if you like I'll give you the kisses beforehand," suggested
Sasha.
"That looks more like business," said Liudmilla. "Here you are."
She stretched out her hand to Sasha. He took her long thin fingers,
kissed them once and asked with a sly smile, without letting go of her
hand:
"And you'll not cheat me, Liudmillotchka?"
"Do you think I'm dishonest!" answered Liudmilla. "You can kiss without
suspicion."
Sasha bent over her hand and gave it quick kisses; he covered her hand
with loud kisses, pressing his open lips against her hand, and feeling
happy that he could kiss her so often. Liudmilla carefully counted the
kisses. When she had counted ten, she said:
"It must be very awkward for you to stand and bend over."
"Well, I'll make myself more comfortable," said Sasha.
He went down on his knees and kissed her hand with renewed zeal.
Sasha loved sweets. He was pleased that Liudmilla had brought him some
sweet things. For this he loved her still more tenderly.
* * * * *
Liudmilla sprinkled Sasha with lusciously aromatic scents. Their aroma
astonished Sasha. It was at once overpoweringly sweet, intoxicating
and radiantly hazy--like a sinful golden sunrise seen through an early
white mist. Sasha said:
"What a strange perfume!"
"Try it on your hand," advised Liudmilla.
And she gave him an ugly, four-cornered jar, rounded at the edges.
Sasha looked at it against the light. It was a bright yellow liquid.
It had a large, highly coloured label with a French inscription--it
was cyclamen from Piver's. Sasha took hold of the flat glass stopper,
pulled it out and smelled at the perfume. Then he did as Liudmilla
liked to do--he put his palm on the mouth of the bottle, turned it
over quickly and then turned it upright again. Then he rubbed between
his palms the few drops of cyclamen that remained and smelled his hand
attentively. The spirit in the scent evaporated and the pure aroma
remained. Liudmilla looked at him with expectancy.
Sasha said indecisively:
"It smells a little of insects."
"Don't tell lies, please," said Liudmilla in vexation.
She put some of the scent on her hand and smelled it. Sasha repeated:
"Yes, of insects."
Liudmilla suddenly flared up, so that small tears glistened in her
eyes. She struck Sasha across the cheek and cried:
"Oh, you wicked boy! That's for your insects!"
"That was a healthy smack," said Sasha, and he laughed and kissed
Liudmilla's hand. "But why are you so angry, dearest Liudmillotchka?
What do you think it does smell of?"
He was not at all angry at the blow--he was completely bewitched by
Liudmilla.
"What does it smell of?" asked Liudmilla, and caught hold of Sasha by
the ear. "I'll tell you what, but first I'm going to pull your ear for
you."
"Oi-oi-oi! Liudmillotchka darling, I won't do it again!" exclaimed
Sasha, frowning with pain and pulling away from her.
Liudmilla let go of the reddened ear, gently drew Sasha to her, seated
him on her knees and said:
"Listen--three scents live in the cyclamen--the poor flower smells
of ambrosia--that is for working bees. You know, of course, that in
Russian this is called 'sow-bread.'"
"Sow-bread," repeated Sasha laughingly. "That's a funny name."
"Now, don't laugh, you young scamp," said Liudmilla as she caught hold
of his other ear, and continued: "Ambrosia, and the bees humming over
it, that's the flower's joy. The flower also smells of vanilla. Now
this is not for the bees, but for him of whom they dream, and this
is the flower's desire--the flower and the golden sun above it. The
flower's third perfume smells of the sweet tender body for the lover,
and this is its love--the poor flower and the heavy midday sultriness.
The bee, the sun and the sultriness--do you understand, my dear?"
Sasha silently shook his head. His smooth face flamed and his long
dark eyelashes trembled slightly. Liudmilla looked dreamily into the
distance and said:
"It gives one joy--the gentle and sunny cyclamen--it draws one towards
desires, which give sweetness and shame, and it stirs the blood. Do you
understand, my little sun, when it feels sweet and happy and sad and
one wants to cry? Do you understand? That's what it is."
She pressed her lips in a long kiss on Sasha's. Liudmilla looked
pensively in front of her. Suddenly a smile came across her lips. She
lightly pushed Sasha away and asked:
"Do you like roses?"
Sasha sighed, opened his eyes, smiled tenderly and whispered:
"Yes."
"Large roses?" asked Liudmilla.
"Yes, all sorts--large and small," replied Sasha quickly, and he
gracefully left her knees.
"And so you like _rosotchki_[1] (little roses)?" asked Liudmilla
gently, and her sonorous voice trembled from suppressed laughter.
"Yes, I like them," answered Sasha quickly. Liudmilla began to laugh.
"You stupid, you like _rosotchki_ (strokes with a rod), and there's no
one to whip you," she exclaimed.
They both laughed and flushed.
Desires innocent by reason of their being aroused unavoidably, made the
chief charm of their relation for Liudmilla. They stirred one, and yet
they were far from the coarse, repulsive attainment.
* * * * *
They began to argue as to who was the strongest. Liudmilla said:
"Well, suppose you are the strongest, what then? The thing is, who's
the quickest."
"Well, I'm also the quickest," boasted Sasha.
"So you're quick," exclaimed Liudmilla teasingly.
They discussed the matter at length. At last Liudmilla suggested:
"Well, let's wrestle."
Sasha laughed and said:
"Well, you can't get the best of me!"
Liudmilla began to tickle him.
"So that's your way," he exclaimed as he giggled, and he wriggled away
from her and caught her around the waist.
Then a tussle began. Liudmilla saw at once that Sasha was the stronger.
As she could not beat him by strength, she cunningly made the best of
an opportune moment and tripped up Sasha's foot--he fell and pulled
Liudmilla down with him. Liudmilla easily freed herself and pressed him
down on the floor. Sasha cried:
"That's not fair!"
Liudmilla put her knees on his stomach and held him on the floor with
her hands. Sasha made great efforts to get free. Liudmilla began to
tickle him again. Sasha's loud laughter mingled with hers. She laughed
so much that she had to let Sasha go. She fell to the floor, still
laughing. Sasha jumped to his feet. He was red and rather provoked.
"Russalka (water nymph)!" he shouted.
But the Russalka was lying on the floor, laughing.
Liudmilla seated Sasha on her knees. Tired with the wrestling, they sat
happily and closely, looking into each other's eyes and smiling.
"I'm heavy for you. I shall hurt your knee. You'd better let me go."
"Never mind, sit still," replied Liudmilla affectionately. "You
yourself said you liked to caress."
She stroked his head. He gently put his head against her. She said:
"You're very handsome, Sasha."
Sasha grew red and laughed.
"What an idea!" said he.
Conversations and thoughts about beauty, when applied to himself,
somehow perplexed him; he had never as yet been curious to find out
whether people considered him handsome or a monster.
Liudmilla pinched Sasha's cheek, which made him smile. A pretty red
spot showed on his cheek. Liudmilla pinched the other cheek also.
Sasha did not protest. He only took her hand, kissed it and said:
"You've done enough pinching. It hurts me, and you'll make your fingers
stiff."
"It may be painful, but what a flatterer you've become."
"I shall have to do my lessons," said Sasha. "You must caress me a
little while longer for good luck, so that I can get a five for my
Greek."
"So you're sending me away," said Liudmilla.
She caught hold of his hand and rolled the sleeve above the elbow.
"What are you doing?" asked Sasha in confusion, blushing guiltily.
But Liudmilla looked at his arm admiringly and turned this way and that
way.
"What beautiful arms you've got!" she said clearly and happily, and
suddenly kissed it near the elbow.
Sasha tried to drag his arm away. Liudmilla held it and kissed it
several more times. Sasha became still and cast down his eyes. And a
strange expression came over his clear, half-smiling lips--and under
the shadow of his thick eyelashes his hot cheeks began to pale.
* * * * *
They said good-bye to each other. Sasha escorted Liudmilla as far as
the gate. He would have gone further but she forbade it. He paused at
the gate and said:
"Come again oftener, my dear, bring sweeter cakes, do you hear?"
He used the familiar "thou" to her for the first time, and it
sounded in her ear like a gentle caress. She embraced and kissed him
impetuously, and ran away. Sasha stood like one dazed.
* * * * *
Sasha had promised to come. The appointed hour had passed by and Sasha
had not arrived. Liudmilla waited impatiently--she fidgeted about and
felt distressed and looked out of the window. Whenever she heard steps
in the street she put her head out of the window. Her sisters teased
her. She said angrily:
"Let me alone!"
Then she threw herself stormily at them with reproaches, because they
laughed at her. It was already evident that Sasha would not come.
Liudmilla cried with vexation and disappointment.
Darya continued to tease her.
Liudmilla spoke quietly between her sobs, and in the midst of her
distress she forgot to be angry with them:
"That detestable old hag wouldn't let him come. She keeps him tied to
apron strings to make him learn Greek."
"Yes, and he's a hobbledehoy, because he couldn't get away," said Darya
with rough sympathy.
"She has tied herself up with a child," said Valeria contemptuously.
Both sisters, though they laughed, sympathised with Liudmilla.
They loved each other, and they loved tenderly but not strongly: a
superficial, tender love. Darya said:
"Why are you crying? Why should you weep your eyes out for a young
milksop? Well, you might say that the devil has bound himself to an
infant!"
"Who's a devil?" shouted Liudmilla angrily.
"Why you," answered Darya calmly, "are young, but ..."
Darya did not end her sentence, but whistled piercingly.
"Nonsense," said Liudmilla, and her voice sounded strangely.
A strange, severe smile shone on her face through her tears, like a
bright, flaming ray at sunset through the last drops of a weary rain.
Darya said in a rather annoyed way:
"What do you find interesting in him? Tell me, please."
Liudmilla, still with the same curious smile on her face, said slowly
and pensively:
"How beautiful he is! How many untouched possibilities he has!"
"That's very cheap," said Darya decidedly. "All small boys have them."
"No, it isn't cheap," said Liudmilla. "They're unclean boys."
"And is he clean?" asked Valeria; she pronounced the word "clean"
rather contemptuously.
"A lot you understand," said Liudmilla, and again began to speak
quietly and pensively. "He's quite innocent."
Darya smiled.
"Oh, is he?" said Darya ironically.
"The best age for a boy is fourteen or fifteen. He doesn't understand
anything and yet he has a kind of intuition. And he hasn't a disgusting
beard."
"A wonderful pleasure!" said Valeria with a contemptuous grimace.
She was feeling sad. It seemed to her that she was small, weak and
frail, and she envied her sisters--she envied Darya her gay laughter
and even Liudmilla's tears. Liudmilla said again:
"You don't understand anything. I don't love him at all as you think.
To love a boy is better than to fall in love with a commonplace face
with moustaches. I love him innocently. I don't want anything from him."
"If you don't want anything from him, why do you torment him?" said
Darya harshly.
Liudmilla grew red and a guilty expression came on to her face. Darya
took pity on her; she walked up to Liudmilla, put her arms round her
and said:
"Don't mind what we say--it's only our spitefulness!"
Liudmilla began to cry again, and pressing against Darya's shoulder,
said sadly:
"I know there's nothing for me to hope for from him but if he would
only caress me a little!"
"What's the matter?" said Darya as she walked away from Liudmilla; she
put her hands on her hips and sang loudly:
"Last night I left my darling ..."
Valeria broke into a clear, fragile laugh. And Liudmilla's eyes looked
gay and mischievous again. She walked into her room impetuously and
sprinkled herself with Korylopsis--the sweet, piquant, odour seized
upon her seductively. She walked out into the street, in her best
clothes, feeling distraught; and an indiscreet attractiveness was
wafted from her. "Perhaps I shall meet him," she thought.
She did meet him.
"Well, you're a nice one," she exclaimed reproachfully and yet happily.
Sasha felt both confused and glad.
"I had no time," he said. "There are too many lessons to do. Really I
had no time."
"You're fibbing, little one, but come along."
He resisted for a while, but it was clear that he was glad to let
Liudmilla take him away with her. And Liudmilla brought him home.
"I've found him," she said to her sisters triumphantly, and taking
Sasha by the shoulders, she led him into her room.
Sasha, putting his hands inside his belt, stood uneasily in the middle
of the room, and felt both happy and sad. There seemed to be an odour
of new pleasant scents there, and in this odour there was something
that provoked and irritated the nerves like the contact of living rough
little snakes.
[1] "Rosotchki" means "little roses" and also "rods" and "strokes from
a rod."