“Impossible,” agreed Tatiana Markovna. “God knows what might happen between them. You have a near relation, who knows all and loves you like a sister, Borushka.”
“If that were how he loved me,” thought Vera. She did not mean to reveal Raisky’s passion for her, which remained her secret.
“Perhaps I will ask my cousin,” she said. “Or I will collect my strength, and answer the letter myself, so as to make him understand my position and renounce all hope. But in the mean time, I must let him know so that he does not come to the arbour to wait in vain for me.”
“I will do that,” struck in Tatiana Markovna.
“But you will not go yourself?” asked Vera, looking direct into her eyes. “Remember that I make no complaint against him, and wish him no evil.”
“Nor do I,” returned her aunt, looking away. “You may be assured I will not go myself, but I will arrange it so that he does not await you in the arbour.”
“Forgive me, Grandmother, for this fresh disturbance.”
Tatiana Markovna sighed, and kissed her niece. Vera left the room in a calmer frame of mind, wondering what means her aunt proposed to take to prevent Mark from coming next day to the arbour.
Next day at noon Vera heard horse’s hoofs at the gate. When she looked out of the window her eyes shone with pleasure for a moment, as she saw Tushin ride into the courtyard. She went to meet him.
“I saw you from the window,” she said, adding, as she looked at him, “Are you well?”
“What else should I be?” he answered with embarrassment, turning his head away so that she should not notice the signs of suffering on his face. “And you?”
“I fell ill, and my illness might have taken an ill turn, but now it is over. Where is Grandmother?” she asked, turning to Vassilissa.
“The Mistress went out after tea, and took Savili with her.”
Vera invited Tushin to her room, but for the moment both were embarrassed.
“Have you forgiven me?” asked Vera after a pause, without looking at him.
“For all you have endured. Ivan Ivanovich, you have changed. I can see that you carry a heavy heart. Your suffering and Grandmother’s is a hard penance for me. But for you three, Grandmother, you, and Cousin Boris, I could not survive.”
“And yet you say that you give us pain. Look at me; I think I am better already. If you would only recover your own peace of mind it will all be over and forgotten.”