sat in
the porch, and her soul, as before, was empty and dreary and full
of bitterness. In winter she sat at her window and looked at the
snow. When she caught the scent of spring, or heard the chime of
the church bells, a sudden rush of memories from the past came over
her, there was a tender ache in her heart, and her eyes brimmed
over with tears; but this was only for a minute, and then came
emptiness again and the sense of the futility of life. The black
kitten, Briska, rubbed against her and purred softly, but Olenka
was not touched by these feline caresses. That was not what she
needed. She wanted a love that would absorb her whole being, her
whole soul and reason--that would give her ideas and an object
in life, and would warm her old blood. And she would shake the
kitten off her skirt and say with vexation:

"Get along; I don't want you!"

And so it was, day after day and year after year, and no joy, and
no opinions. Whatever Mavra, the cook, said she accepted.

One hot July day, towards evening, just as the cattle were being
driven away, and the whole yard was full of dust, some one suddenly
knocked at the gate. Olenka went to open it herself and was dumbfounded
when she looked out: she saw Smirnin, the veterinary surgeon,
grey-headed, and dressed as a civilian. She suddenly remembered
everything. She could not help crying and letting her head fall on
his breast without uttering a word, and in the violence of her
feeling she did not notice how they both walked into the house and
sat down to tea.

"My dear Vladimir Platonitch! What fate has brought you?" she
muttered, trembling with joy.

"I want to settle here for good, Olga Semyonovna," he told her. "I
have resigned my post, and have come to settle down and try my luck
on my own account. Besides, it's time for my boy to go to school.
He's a big boy. I am reconciled with my wife, you know."

"Where is she?' asked Olenka.

"She's at the hotel with the boy, and I'm looking for lodgings."

"Good gracious, my dear soul! Lodgings? Why not have my house? Why
shouldn't that suit you? Why, my goodness, I wouldn't take any
rent!" cried Olenka in a flutter, beginning to cry again. "You live
here, and the lodge will do nicely for me. Oh dear! how glad I am!"

Next day the roof was painted and the walls were whitewashed, and
Olenka, with her arms akimbo walked about the yard giving directions.
Her face was beaming with her old smile, and she was brisk and alert