Boris nodded:--"Yes, about Billy."
"Dear Boris," said the old lady, bending her head back a little so as to look her nephew in the eyes, "must that be, just at this time? It will excite Billy so--and your uncle, and me, and us all, and we have just been so happy and so jolly together. Can't you put it off?"
But Boris grew still more solemn: "I am sorry, dear aunt, that I must disturb the contentment here. That is, I fear, the part which I am once and for all destined to play," and he laughed bitterly; "no, I am a kill-joy, but I do what I have to."
"Oh, oh yes," said Countess Betty anxiously, "well in that case--perhaps ail will be well. I will go right up to see Billy, for in any case she must stay in bed for the present; I will take her breakfast to her." Busily she hurried away, and Boris again seated himself in his chair, pale and resolute, and waited.
When Boris was called to his uncle, he found the latter in his study, sitting by the window. He was smoking his morning cigar and looking out into the courtyard. There the agricultural work of the forenoon was actively going on. In the pond horses were being watered, quite shiny in the sun. Harvest wagons rolled past, bright yellow against the blue sky. The count turned carelessly toward his nephew, nodded to him, and then immediately looked out of the window again.
"Good morning, Boris," he said; "you wanted to speak to me: very well, be seated, please."
When Boris had seated himself, it was quite still in the room. He had prepared so many big words to say, but here in this room before this old man, whose thoughts seemed to be so far removed from all that concerned Boris, nothing of what he had prepared now seemed to be in keeping. "Is he really only interested in the passing harvest wagons," thought Boris, "or is he maliciously shamming!"
"How that lad yonder lies on top of the load of barley," the count now began, "lolling for all the world like a king. He really has the feeling of ownership now, even though not a straw belongs to him. He has more feeling of ownership at this moment than I have here at my window. Remarkable, isn't it?" He turned to Boris. As he noticed the tense expression on the pale face, he raised his eyebrows a little and remarked, "Oh, I remember, you wish to speak of yourself; I am listening." Then he again looked out of the window.
"Yes, uncle," said Boris, and his voice sounded vexed and quarrelsome, "I wanted to tell you that I ... I love Billy."
The count pulled at his cigar and then said slowly and with marked nasal intonation,