She found her basket, kissed her father, and went out. Old Stephan got his unfinished fishing-net, and seated himself on a bench outside the door. He gathered his twine, and half-closing one eye he tried to thread his netting needle; after several attempts he succeeded and began to work.
From time to time he watched Kasya. She was walking on the left side of the lake; against the background of the sandy banks she stood out in relief as if in a picture. Her white waist and red striped skirt and yellow kerchief glistened in the sunlight like a variegated flower. Though it was spring the heat was unbearable. After she had gone about half a mile she turned aside and disappeared into the woods. The afternoon hours were hot in the sun, but in the shade of the trees it was quite cool. Kasya pressed forward, suddenly stopped, smiled, and blushed like a rose.
In front of her in the pathway stood a youth about eighteen years of age.
This youth was the turpentine worker, from the edge of the woods, who was now on his way to visit Stephan.
"Forever and ever," answered she, and in her confusion she covered her face with her apron, peeping shyly out of a corner of it and smiling at her companion.
The turpentine worker, poor fellow, perhaps desired to speak of something else beside the father, but somehow he was frightened and unconsciously inquired for him; then he became silent and waited for Kasya to speak to him first. She stood confused, twisting the corners of her apron.
"Does the turpentine works smoke to-day?" She also wished to speak of something else.
"Why should it not? The turpentine works never stop. I left lame Frank there; but dost thou wish to go there?"
"I will go with thee, and on our return, if thou dost not chase me away, I will come to thy house."
"If thou dost like me thou wilt not chase me away, and if thou dost not, then thou wilt. Tell me, Kasya, dost thou like me?"
"Fate, my fate," and Kasya covered her face with her hands. "What can I say to thee? I like thee, John, very much I like thee," she whispered faintly.
Then before he could reply she uncovered her blushing face and cried out, "Let us go and gather plants; let us hurry."
And so went they, John and Kasya. The radiance of love surrounded them, but these simple children of nature dared not speak of it. They felt it, although they knew not what they felt; they were embarrassed but happy. Never before had the forest sung so wonderfully over their heads, never was the wind so sweet and caressing, never at any time had the noises of the forest, the rustling of the breeze in the trees, the voices of the birds, the echoes of the woods, seemed to merge into such an angelic choir, so sweet and grand, as at this moment, full of unconscious happiness.