Olénin could only see a knee, and one of her shapely legs hanging down from the oven. He treated the old woman to tea. She treated her guest to clotted cream which she sent Maryánka to fetch. But having put a plateful on the table Maryánka again sprang on the oven from whence Olénin felt her eyes upon him. They talked about household matters. Granny Ulítka became animated and went into raptures of hospitality. She brought Olénin preserved grapes and a grape tart and some of her best wine, and pressed him to eat and drink with the rough yet proud hospitality of country folk, only found among those who produce their bread by the labour of their own hands.
The old woman, who had at first struck Olénin so much by her rudeness, now often touched him by her simple tenderness towards her daughter.
“Yes, we need not offend the Lord by grumbling! We have enough of everything, thank God. We have pressed sufficient chikhir and have preserved and shall sell three or four barrels of grapes and have enough left to drink. Don’t be in a hurry to leave us. We will make merry together at the wedding.”
“And when is the wedding to be?” asked Olénin, feeling his blood suddenly rush to his face while his heart beat irregularly and painfully.
He heard a movement on the oven and the sound of seeds being cracked.
“Well, you know, it ought to be next week. We are quite ready,” replied the old woman, as simply and quietly as though Olénin did not exist. “I have prepared and have procured everything for Maryánka. We will give her away properly. Only there’s one thing not quite right. Our Lukáshka has been running rather wild. He has been too much on the spree! He’s up to tricks! The other day a Cossack came here from his company and said he had been to Nogáy.”
“He must mind he does not get caught,” said Olénin.
“Yes, that’s what I tell him. ‘Mind, Lukáshka, don’t you get into mischief. Well, of course, a young fellow naturally wants to cut a dash. But there’s a time for everything. Well, you’ve captured or stolen something and killed an abrek! Well, you’re a fine fellow! But now you should live quietly for a bit, or else there’ll be trouble.’”
“Yes, I saw him a time or two in the division, he was always merry-making. He has sold another horse,” said Olénin, and glanced towards the oven. A pair of large, dark, and hostile eyes glittered as they gazed severely at him.
He became ashamed of what he had said. “What of it? He does no one any harm,” suddenly remarked Maryánka. “He makes merry with his own money,” and lowering her legs she jumped down from the oven and went out banging the door.