The sun had come out from behind the pear-tree that had shaded the wagon, and even through the branches that Ústenka had fixed up it scorched the faces of the sleeping girls. Maryánka woke up and began arranging the kerchief on her head. Looking about her, beyond the pear-tree she noticed their lodger, who with his gun on his shoulder stood talking to her father. She nudged Ústenka and smilingly pointed him out to her.
“I went yesterday and didn’t find a single one,” Olénin was saying as he looked about uneasily, not seeing Maryánka through the branches.
“Ah, you should go out there in that direction, go right as by compasses, there in a disused vineyard denominated as the Waste, hares are always to be found,” said the cornet, having at once changed his manner of speech.
“A fine thing to go looking for hares in these busy times! You had better come and help us, and do some work with the girls,” the old woman said merrily. “Now then, girls, up with you!” she cried.
Maryánka and Ústenka under the cart were whispering and could hardly restrain their laughter.
Since it had become known that Olénin had given a horse worth fifty rubles to Lukáshka, his hosts had become more amiable and the cornet in particular saw with pleasure his daughter’s growing intimacy with Olénin.
“But I don’t know how to do the work,” replied Olénin, trying not to look through the green branches under the wagon where he had now noticed Maryánka’s blue smock and red kerchief.
“Come, I’ll give you some peaches,” said the old woman.
“It’s only according to the ancient Cossack hospitality. It’s her old woman’s silliness,” said the cornet, explaining and apparently correcting his wife’s words. “In Russia, I expect, it’s not so much peaches as pineapple jam and preserves you have been accustomed to eat at your pleasure.”
“So you say hares are to be found in the disused vineyard?” asked Olénin. “I will go there,” and throwing a hasty glance through the green branches he raised his cap and disappeared between the regular rows of green vines.