Chapter 51

September 29th.

MY OWN BARBARA ALEXIEVNA,--Today, dearest, I saw Thedora, who
informed me that you are to be married tomorrow, and on the
following day to go away--for which purpose Bwikov has ordered a
post-chaise....

Well, of the incident of his Excellency, I have already told you.
Also I have verified the bill from the shop in Gorokhovaia
Street. It is correct, but very long. Why is Monsieur Bwikov so
out of humour with you? Nay, but you must be of good cheer, my
darling. I am so, and shall always be so, so long as you are
happy. I should have come to the church tomorrow, but, alas,
shall be prevented from doing so by the pain in my loins. Also, I
would have written an account of the ceremony, but that there
will be no one to report to me the details. . . .

Yes, you have been a very good friend to Thedora, dearest. You
have acted kindly, very kindly, towards her. For every such deed
God will bless you. Good deeds never go unrewarded, nor does
virtue ever fail to win the crown of divine justice, be it early
or be it late. Much else should I have liked to write to you.
Every hour, every minute I could occupy in writing. Indeed I
could write to you forever! Only your book, "The Stories of
Bielkin", is left to me. Do not deprive me of it, I pray you, but
suffer me to keep it. It is not so much because I wish to read
the book for its own sake, as because winter is coming on, when
the evenings will be long and dreary, and one will want to read
at least SOMETHING.

Do you know, I am going to move from my present quarters into
your old ones, which I intend to rent from Thedora; for I could
never part with that good old woman. Moreover, she is such a
splendid worker. Yesterday I inspected your empty room in detail,
and inspected your embroidery-frame, with the work still hanging
on it. It had been left untouched in its corner. Next, I
inspected the work itself, of which there still remained a few
remnants, and saw that you had used one of my letters for a spool
upon which to wind your thread. Also, on the table I found a
scrap of paper which had written on it, "My dearest Makar
Alexievitch I hasten to--" that was all. Evidently, someone had
interrupted you at an interesting point. Lastly, behind a screen
there was your little bed. . . . Oh darling of darlings!!! . . .
Well, goodbye now, goodbye now, but for God's sake send me
something in answer to this letter!

MAKAR DIEVUSHKIN.