“Come with me, and we’ll pick some fresh ones.”
“Wait,” called Tatiana Markovna. “You can never sit quiet, you have hardly had time to show your nose, the perspiration still stands on your forehead, and you are aching to be off. First you must have breakfast. And you, Marfinka, find out if that person, Markushka, will have anything. But don’t go yourself, send Egorka.”
Marfinka seized the carp’s head with two fingers, but when he began to wave his tail hither and thither, she uttered a loud cry, hastily dropped him on the floor, and fled down the corridor.
Vikentev hurried after, and a few moments later Tatiana Markovna heard a gay waltz in progress and a vigorous stampede, as if someone were rolling down the steps. Soon the two of them tore across the courtyard to the garden, Marfinka leading, and from the garden came the sound of chattering, singing and laughter. Tatiana Markovna shook her head as she looked through the window. Cocks, hens and ducks fled in panic, the dogs dashed barking at Marfinka’s heels, the servants put their heads out of the windows of their quarters, in the garden the tall plants swayed hither and hither, the flower beds were broken by the print of flying feet, two or three vases were overturned, and every bird sought refuge in the depths of the trees.
A quarter of an hour later, the two culprits sat with Tatiana Markovna as politely as if nothing had happened. They looked gaily about the room and at one another, as Vikentev wiped the perspiration from his face and Marfinka fanned her burning face with her handkerchief.
“You are a nice pair,” remarked Tatiana Markovna.
“He is always like that,” complained Marfinka, “he chased me. Tell him to sit quiet.”
“It wasn’t my fault, Tatiana Markovna. Marfa Vassilievna told me to go into the garden, and she herself ran on in front.”
“He is a man. But it does not become you, who are a girl, to do these things.”
“You see what I have to endure through you,” said Marfinka.