Artwork garnet bracelet read. Read online the book "Garnet Bracelet

Russian writer, translator.

Date and place of birth - September 7, 1870, Narovchatsky district, Penza province, Russian Empire.

Kuprin's first literary experience was poetry, which remained unpublished. The first printed work is the story "The Last Debut" (1889).

In 1910, Kuprin wrote the story " Garnet bracelet". which was based on real events.

"Garnet bracelet"

Heroes

Prince Vasily Lvovich Shein

Is one of the main characters, the husband of Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, and the brother of Lyudmila Lvovna Durasova; prince and marshal of the nobility. Vasily Lvovich is highly revered in society. He has a well-established life and outwardly prosperous family in all respects. In fact, his wife has nothing but friendly feelings and respect for him. Financial position Prince also leaves much to be desired. Princess Vera tried with all her might to help Vasily Lvovich refrain from complete ruin.

Vera Nikolaevna Sheina

Georgy Stepanovich Zheltkov

Anna Nikolaevna Friesse

Nikolai Nikolaevich Mirza-Bulat-Tuganovskiy

General Yakov Mikhailovich Anosov

Ludmila Lvovna Durasova

Gustav Ivanovich Friesse

Ponamarev

Bakhtinsky

"Garnet Bracelet" summary

Source - I

In September, a small festive dinner was being prepared at the dacha in honor of the name day of the hostess. Vera Nikolaevna Sheina received earrings as a gift from her husband in the morning. She was glad that the holiday was to be arranged at the dacha, since her husband's financial affairs were not in the best way. Sister Anna came to help Vera Nikolaevna prepare dinner. Guests were arriving. The weather turned out to be good, and the evening passed with warm, sincere conversations. The guests sat down to play poker. At this time, the messenger brought a bundle. It contained a gold bracelet with garnets and a small green stone in the middle. The gift was accompanied by a note. It said that the bracelet is a family heirloom of the donor, and the green stone is a rare garnet that has the properties of a talisman.

The holiday was in full swing. The guests played cards, sang, joked, looked at an album with satirical pictures and stories made by the host. Among the stories was a story about a telegraph operator who was in love with Princess Vera, who pursued his beloved, despite the refusal. The unrequited feeling drove him to a madhouse.

Almost all the guests have left. Those who remained had a conversation with General Anosov, whom the sisters called grandfather, about his military life and love affairs. Walking in the garden, the general tells Vera about the story of his unsuccessful marriage. The conversation turns to understanding true love. Anosov tells stories about men who valued love more than own life. He is interested in Vera's story about the telegraph operator. It turned out that the princess had never seen him and did not know who he really was.

Returning, Vera found her husband and brother Nikolai having an unpleasant conversation. Together they decided that these letters and gifts defame the name of the princess and her husband, so this story must be put to an end. Knowing nothing about the admirer of the princess, Nikolai and Vasily Lvovich Shein tracked him down. Vera's brother attacked this pathetic man with threats. Vasily Lvovich showed generosity and listened to him. Zheltkov admitted that he loves Vera Nikolaevna hopelessly, but too much to be able to overcome this feeling. In addition, he said that he would no longer disturb the princess, as he had squandered government money and was forced to leave. The next day, from a newspaper article, it became known about the suicide of an official. The postman brought a letter from which Vera learned that love for her was for Zheltkov the greatest joy and grace. Standing at the coffin, Vera Nikolaevna understands that the wonderful deep feeling that Anosov spoke of has passed her by.

Source - II

en.wikipedia.org

On the day of her name day, Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina received from her longtime anonymous admirer a golden bracelet as a gift, with five large cabochon garnets of deep red color, surrounding a green stone - a rare variety of garnet. Being married woman, she considered herself not entitled to receive any gifts from strangers.

Her brother, Nikolai Nikolaevich, an assistant prosecutor, together with her husband, Prince Vasily Lvovich, found the sender. It turned out to be a modest official Georgy Zheltkov. Many years ago, at a circus performance, he accidentally saw Princess Vera in a box and fell in love with her with pure and unrequited love. Several times a year for big holidays he allowed himself to write letters to her.

When brother Nikolai Nikolayevich, having arrived at Zheltkov’s dwelling with her husband, returned the garnet bracelet to him and in a conversation mentioned the possibility of applying to the authorities to stop the persecution, according to him, of Princess Vera Nikolaevna, Zheltkov asked permission from her husband and the princess’s brother to call her. She told him that if he were not there, she would be calmer. Zheltkov asked to listen to Beethoven's Sonata No. 2. Then he took the bracelet returned to him to the landlady with a request to hang the decoration on the icon. Mother of God(according to Catholic custom), locked himself in his room and shot himself so that Princess Vera could live in peace. He did it all out of love for Vera and for her good. Zheltkov left a suicide note in which he explained that he had shot himself because of the waste of state money.

Vera Nikolaevna, having learned about Zheltkov’s death, asked her husband’s permission and went to the suicide’s apartment to look at least once at the person who had loved her unrequitedly for so many years. Returning home, she asked Jenny Reiter to play something, no doubt that she would play exactly the part of the sonata that Zheltkov wrote about. Sitting in the flower garden to the sound of beautiful music, Vera Nikolaevna clung to the trunk of an acacia tree and wept. She realized that the love that General Anosov spoke about, which every woman dreams of, passed her by. When the pianist finished playing and went out to the princess, she began to kiss her with the words: “No, no, he has forgiven me now. Things are good".

Source - III

A bundle with a small jewelry case in the name of Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina was handed over by the messenger through the maid. The princess reprimanded her, but Dasha said that the messenger immediately ran away, and she did not dare to tear the birthday girl away from the guests.

Inside the case was a gold, low-grade puffy bracelet covered with garnets, among which was a small green stone. The letter enclosed in the case contained congratulations on the day of the angel and a request to accept the bracelet that belonged to the great-grandmother. A green stone is a very rare green garnet that communicates the gift of providence and protects men from violent death. The letter ended with the words: “Your obedient servant G.S.Zh. before death and after death.”

Vera took the bracelet in her hands - inside the stones, alarming dense red living lights lit up. "Just like blood!" she thought as she returned to the living room.

Prince Vasily Lvovich was demonstrating at that moment his humorous home album, which had just been opened on the “tale” “Princess Vera and the Telegraph Operator in Love”. “Better not,” she pleaded. But the husband has already begun commenting on his own drawings full of brilliant humor. Here a girl named Vera receives a letter with kissing doves, signed by the telegraph operator P.P.Zh. Here young Vasya Shein returns to Vera wedding ring: "I dare not interfere with your happiness, and yet it is my duty to warn you: telegraphers are seductive, but insidious." But Vera marries the handsome Vasya Shein, but the telegraph operator continues to persecute. Here he, disguised as a chimney sweep, enters the boudoir of Princess Vera. Here, having changed clothes, he enters their kitchen as a dishwasher. Here, at last, he is in a lunatic asylum, etc.

"Gentlemen, who wants tea?" Vera asked. After tea, the guests began to leave. The old general Anosov, whom Vera and her sister Anna called grandfather, asked the princess to explain what was true in the prince's story.

G.S.Z. (and not P.P.Z.) began harassing her with letters two years before her marriage. Obviously, he constantly watched her, knew where she was at the parties, how she was dressed. When Vera, also in writing, asked not to bother her with his persecutions, he fell silent about love and limited himself to congratulations on holidays, as well as today, on her name day.

The old man was silent. "Could it be a maniac? Or maybe, Verochka, your life path crossed precisely the kind of love that women dream of and that men are no longer capable of.”

After the guests left, Vera's husband and her brother Nikolai decided to find an admirer and return the bracelet. The next day they already knew the address of G.S.Zh. It turned out to be a man of about thirty to thirty-five. He did not deny anything and recognized the indecency of his behavior. Finding some understanding and even sympathy in the prince, he explained to him that, alas, he loves his wife and neither deportation nor prison will kill this feeling. Except death. He must confess that he has squandered government money and will be forced to flee the city, so that they will not hear from him again.

The next day, in the newspaper, Vera read about the suicide of G. S. Zheltkov, an official of the control chamber, and in the evening the postman brought his letter.

Zheltkov wrote that for him all life consisted only in her, in Vera Nikolaevna. It is the love that God rewarded him for something. Leaving, he repeats in delight: “Let the your name". If she remembers him, then let her play the D major part of Beethoven's Appassionata, he thanks her from the bottom of his heart for the fact that she was his only joy in life.

Vera could not help but go to say goodbye to this man. Her husband fully understood her impulse.

The face of the person lying in the coffin was serene, as if he had learned a deep secret. Vera raised his head, placed a large red rose under his neck, and kissed him on the forehead. She understood that the love that every woman dreams of had passed her by.

Returning home, she found only her college friend, the famous pianist Jenny Reiter. "Play something for me," she asked.

And Jenny (wonder!) began to play the part of "Appassionata", which Zheltkov indicated in the letter. She listened, and in her mind words were composed, like couplets, ending with a prayer: “Hallowed be thy name.” "What happened to you?" asked Jenny, seeing her tears. “…He has forgiven me now. Everything is fine,” Vera replied.

L. van Beethoven. 2 Son. (op. 2, no. 2).

I

In the middle of August, before the birth new moon, suddenly came disgusting weather, which is so characteristic of the northern coast of the Black Sea. Sometimes for whole days a thick fog lay heavily over the land and the sea, and then the huge siren in the lighthouse roared day and night like a mad bull. Then from morning till morning it rained incessantly, fine as water dust, turning clay roads and paths into solid thick mud, in which wagons and carriages got bogged down for a long time. Then a fierce hurricane blew from the northwest, from the side of the steppe; from him the tops of the trees swayed, bending down and straightening up, like waves in a storm, the iron roofs of the dachas rattled at night, it seemed as if someone were running on them in shod boots, the window frames trembled, the doors slammed, and howled wildly in chimneys. Several fishing boats got lost in the sea, and two did not return at all: only a week later the corpses of fishermen were thrown out in different places on the coast.

Residents of a suburban seaside resort - for the most part Greeks and Jews, cheerful and suspicious, like all southerners, hurriedly moved to the city. Cargo drogs stretched endlessly along the softened highway, overloaded with all sorts of household items: mattresses, sofas, chests, chairs, washstands, samovars. It was pitiful, and sad, and disgusting to look through the muddy muslin of rain at this miserable belongings, which seemed so worn out, dirty and beggarly; on the maids and cooks sitting on top of the wagon on a wet tarpaulin with some kind of irons, tins and baskets in their hands, on sweaty, exhausted horses, which now and then stopped, trembling at the knees, smoking and often carrying sides, on hoarsely cursing quails, wrapped up from the rain in mats. It was even sadder to see the abandoned dachas with their sudden spaciousness, emptiness and bareness, with mutilated flower beds, broken glasses, abandoned dogs and all sorts of country rubbish from cigarette butts, pieces of paper, shards, boxes and pharmaceutical vials.

But by the beginning of September, the weather suddenly changed abruptly and quite unexpectedly. Quiet, cloudless days immediately set in, so clear, sunny and warm that there were none even in July. On the dry, compressed fields, on their prickly yellow bristles, autumn cobwebs shone with a mica sheen. The calmed trees silently and obediently dropped their yellow leaves.

Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, could not leave the dachas, because the repairs in their city house had not yet been completed. And now she was very happy about the lovely days that had come, the silence, the solitude, clean air chirping on the telegraph wires of swallows flocking to fly away, and a gentle salty breeze that weakly pulled from the sea.

II

In addition, today was her name day - September 17th. According to sweet, distant memories of childhood, she always loved this day and always expected something happy and wonderful from him. Her husband, leaving in the morning on urgent business in the city, put a case with beautiful pear-shaped pearl earrings on her night table, and this gift amused her even more.

She was alone in the whole house. Her unmarried brother Nikolai, a fellow prosecutor, who usually lived with them, also went to the city, to the court. For dinner, the husband promised to bring a few and only the closest acquaintances. It turned out well that the name day coincided with summer time. In the city, one would have to spend money on a big ceremonial dinner, perhaps even on a ball, but here, in the country, one could manage with the smallest expenses. Prince Shein, despite his prominent position in society, and perhaps thanks to him, could barely make ends meet. The huge family estate was almost completely upset by his ancestors, and he had to live above his means: to make receptions, do charity, dress well, keep horses, etc. Princess Vera, who had a former passionate love to her husband has long passed into a feeling of strong, faithful, true friendship, tried with all her might to help the prince refrain from complete ruin. She in many ways, imperceptibly for him, denied herself and, as far as possible, economized in the household.

Now she was walking in the garden and carefully cutting flowers for the dinner table with scissors. The flower beds were empty and looked disordered. Multi-colored terry carnations were blooming, as well as levka - half in flowers, and half in thin green pods that smelled of cabbage, rose bushes still gave - for the third time this summer - buds and roses, but already shredded, rare, as if degenerate. On the other hand, dahlias, peonies and asters bloomed magnificently with their cold, arrogant beauty, spreading an autumnal, grassy, ​​sad smell in the sensitive air. The rest of the flowers, after their luxurious love and excessive abundant summer motherhood, quietly showered countless seeds of a future life on the ground.

Close by on the highway came the familiar sound of a three-ton car horn. It was the sister of Princess Vera, Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, who had promised in the morning to come by phone to help her sister receive guests and take care of the house.

Subtle hearing did not deceive Vera. She walked towards. A few minutes later a graceful carriage came to an abrupt halt at the dacha gate, and the driver, deftly jumping down from the seat, flung open the door.

The sisters kissed happily. They are from the very early childhood were attached to each other by a warm and caring friendship. In appearance, they were strangely not similar to each other. The eldest, Vera, took after her mother, a beautiful Englishwoman, with her tall, flexible figure, gentle, but cold and proud face, beautiful, although rather big hands and that charming sloping of the shoulders, which can be seen in old miniatures. The youngest, Anna, on the contrary, inherited the Mongolian blood of her father, a Tatar prince, whose grandfather was baptized only in early XIX century and ancient family who ascended to Tamerlane himself, or Lang-Temir, as her father proudly called, in Tatar, this great bloodsucker. She was half a head shorter than her sister, somewhat broad in the shoulders, lively and frivolous, a mocker. Her face was of a strongly Mongolian type, with rather noticeable cheekbones, with narrow eyes, which, moreover, she screwed up due to myopia, with an haughty expression in her small, sensual mouth, especially in her full lower lip slightly protruding forward - this face, however, captivated some then an elusive and incomprehensible charm, which consisted, perhaps, in a smile, perhaps in the deep femininity of all features, perhaps in a piquant, provocatively coquettish facial expression. Her graceful ugliness excited and attracted the attention of men much more often and stronger than her sister's aristocratic beauty.

In August, a vacation at a suburban seaside resort was spoiled by bad weather. The deserted dachas were sadly soaked in the rain. But in September the weather changed again, the sunny days. Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina did not leave the dacha - repairs were underway in her house - and now she is enjoying the warm days.

The princess's birthday is coming. She is glad that it fell on the summer season - in the city they would have to give a ceremonial dinner, and the Sheins "barely made ends meet."

Princess Vera, whose former passionate love for her husband had long since turned into a feeling of lasting, faithful, true friendship, tried with all her might to help the prince refrain from complete ruin.

Vera's younger sister Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, the wife of a very rich and very stupid man, and her brother Nikolai come to Vera's name day. Toward evening, Prince Vasily Lvovich Shein brings the rest of the guests.

A bundle with a small jewelry case in the name of Princess Vera Nikolaevna is brought in the midst of simple country entertainment. Inside the case is a gold, low-grade puffy bracelet covered with garnets that surround a small green pebble.

When Vera... turned the bracelet in front of the light of the electric light bulb, then in them, deep under their smooth egg-shaped surface, lovely deep red living lights suddenly lit up.

In addition to the garnet bracelet, a letter is found in the case. An unknown donor congratulates Vera on the day of the angel and asks to accept a bracelet that belonged to his great-grandmother. The green pebble is a very rare green garnet that communicates the gift of providence and protects men from violent death. The author of the letter reminds the princess how he wrote her "stupid and wild letters" seven years ago. The letter ends with the words: “Your obedient servant G.S.Zh. before death and after death.”

Prince Vasily Lvovich demonstrates at this moment his humorous home album, opened on the "story" "Princess Vera and the telegraph operator in love." “Better not,” Vera asks. But the husband nevertheless begins a commentary on his own drawings full of brilliant humor. Here the girl Vera receives a letter with kissing doves signed by the telegrapher P.P.Zh. Here the young Vasya Shein returns the wedding ring to Vera: “I dare not interfere with your happiness, and yet it is my duty to warn you: telegraphists are seductive, but insidious.” But Vera marries the handsome Vasya Shein, but the telegraph operator continues to persecute. Here he, disguised as a chimney sweep, enters the boudoir of Princess Vera. Here, having changed clothes, he enters their kitchen as a dishwasher. Here, at last, he is in a lunatic asylum.

After tea, the guests leave. Whispering to her husband to look at the case with the bracelet and read the letter, Vera sets off to see off General Yakov Mikhailovich Anosov. The old general, whom Vera and her sister Anna call grandfather, asks the princess to explain what is true in the prince's story.

G. S. J. pursued her with letters two years before her marriage. Obviously, he constantly watched her, knew where she was at the parties, how she was dressed. He served not at the telegraph office, but in "some government institution as a small official." When Vera, also in writing, asked not to disturb her with her persecution, he fell silent about love and limited himself to congratulations on the holidays, as well as today, on her name day. Inventing a funny story, the prince replaced the initials of the unknown admirer with his own.

The old man suggests that the unknown may be a maniac.

Or maybe, Verochka, it was precisely the kind of love that women dream of and which more men are incapable of having crossed your life path.

Vera finds her brother Nikolai very annoyed - he also read the letter and believes that his sister will get "in a ridiculous position" if she accepts this ridiculous gift. Together with Vasily Lvovich, he is going to find an admirer and return the bracelet.

The next day they find out the address of G.S.Zh. It turns out to be a blue-eyed man “with a gentle girlish face” about thirty or thirty-five years old named Zheltkov. Nikolai returns the bracelet to him. Zheltkov does not deny anything and recognizes the indecency of his behavior. Finding some understanding and even sympathy in the prince, he explains to him that he loves his wife, and this feeling will only kill death. Nikolai is outraged, but Vasily Lvovich treats him with pity.

Is he to blame for love, and is it possible to control such a feeling as love - a feeling that has not yet found an interpreter for itself.

Zheltkov admits that he squandered government money and is forced to flee the city, so that they will not hear from him again. He asks Vasily Lvovich for permission to write to his wife last letter. Having heard from her husband a story about Zheltkov, Vera felt "that this man would kill himself."

In the morning, Vera learns from the newspaper about the suicide of G. S. Zheltkov, an official of the control chamber, and in the evening the postman brings his letter.

Zheltkov writes that for him all life consists only in her, in Vera Nikolaevna. It is the love that God rewarded him for something. As he leaves, he repeats in delight: "Hallowed be thy name." If she remembers him, then let her play the D major part of Beethoven's "Sonata No. 2", he thanks her from the bottom of his heart for the fact that she was his only joy in life.

Vera is going to say goodbye to this man. The husband fully understands her impulse and lets his wife go.

The coffin with Zheltkov stands in the middle of his poor room. His lips smile blissfully and serenely, as if he has learned a deep secret. Vera lifts his head, puts a big red rose under his neck and kisses him on the forehead. She understands that the love that every woman dreams of has passed her by. In the evening, Vera asks a familiar pianist to play Beethoven's Appassionata for her, listens to music and cries. When the music ends, Vera feels that Zheltkov has forgiven her.

But what is "love"? A terrible question that Mitya asks himself. He himself does not find the answer, and, perhaps, even the author, Ivan Alekseevich Bunin, does not know him. Bunin's friend Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin fought over the same problem. His story "Garnet Bracelet" is often perceived as a hymn of sacrificial, unrequited love. It is possible that Kuprin himself in his mind built it in the same way. In any case, the famous refrain "Hallowed be thy name" allows us to make such an assumption. But Kuprin himself was by no means a platonic personality and understood how terribly love can disfigure a person. Let us recall two stories of General Anosov, a friend of the father of the heroine of the story: about officers who became victims of women who are commonly called “vamps”. The word comes from the title of Rudyard Kipling's poem "The Vampire". It was translated into Russian by Konstantin Simonov, titled “Fool”. He had the right to do so, since the original also begins with a mention of a fool: “A fool there was ...” (“Once upon a time there was a fool ...”) The English poet tells about a man who had the difficult fate of falling in love with a woman who sucked all his strength out of him. “What a fool squandered, you can’t count everything, // (However, like you and me) // Future, faith, money and honor, // But a lady could eat more, // And a fool is a fool for that // (However, like you and me) ... "

Stories about such fools are offered to us by Kuprin in the first part of the story. And then a reasonable question arises - does not Zheltkov himself act as the third fool? He devoted his life to a woman who cannot even look at him and does not want to hear about him. Too unequal social roles both. At first, the attention of an outsider is even painful for Princess Vera. After all, she does not show signs of attention Grand Duke, and - a petty official. And the garnet bracelet itself - a symbol of great love - in the eyes of her husband and brother looks like only a tasteless craft: "this idiotic bracelet ... this monstrous priestly little thing ...".

Kuprin kills his Zheltkov, since this story cannot get any development. “A fool didn't put a barrel to his temple…” – Kipling and Simonov rejoiced for their character. But to stay alive difficult situation, you need forces almost greater than for suicide. The lover commits suicide, allegedly wasting government money. And Princess Vera has a memory of something great: “The love that every woman dreams of has passed her by ...” Of course, she regrets, she is upset, but let's look at things realistically: could a titled lady and a nondescript employee get closer? What happens to people, even equals, who decide to carry out this great love, Leo Tolstoy clearly showed in the novel Anna Karenina.

No, for the characters of Russian stories, love brings only misfortunes. Having fallen in love, they die, like a slave from Heine's poem. Is it possible to love great and eternal? Contemporary writer Frederic Begbeder claims that love only lasts for three years. This is the title of one of his books. The approach is definitely not romantic. The heroes of famous novels sought the desired object and intended to live happily ever after with it. However, Nikolai Gogol is trying to show us the way of existence of people who are unconditionally in love with each other. But in order to save their lives, both of them closed themselves off from the world. “Not a single desire will fly over the palisade ...” - the author notes. Vissarion Belinsky at first looked at Gogol's characters almost with disgust. Petty feelings dominate these people, no social movement they won't be attracted. Therefore, they say, they could live to old age in serene contentment. But not everyone aspired to the same romantic heroes? Recall the famous novels: "The Black Arrow" by Robert Stevenson and "Quentin Dorward" by Sir Walter Scott. Joanna Sadley and Dick Shelton in one book, Quentin Dorward and Isabella de Croix in another, as soon as they join, they immediately hide in the family estates, forgetting both the Duke of Gloucester and King Louis Eleventh. Could it be that Gogol's story was originally conceived as a satirical response to contemporary romanticism? Like, look, dear brother-reader, what fate awaits the heroes with whom you empathized and sympathized; what kind of roses the Greek god of marriage prepared for them. That is why, we can conclude, the Chekhov artist did not dare to go in search of Zhenya, but only sighed: “Miss, where are you?”

A century later, romantically minded people reappeared in Russian literature, concluding the life of a character with a heroic death. They did not want to write about insignificant people, and the conscience of the artist did not allow them to bring two strong natures into one pair. Not only in friendship, but also in love, one turns out to be the slave of the other. What to do if no one wants to submit? It was then that Maxim Gorky in the story “Makar Chudra” forces Loiko Zobar to slaughter the proud beauty Radda, and after that he kills the hero ... But if two people want to live together to a natural end, they have to humble themselves, descend to the level of old-world landowners. Perhaps, in such humility lies the wisdom of life ...

In mid-August, before the birth of the new moon, the bad weather suddenly set in, which is so characteristic of the northern coast of the Black Sea. Sometimes for whole days a thick fog lay heavily over the land and the sea, and then the huge siren in the lighthouse roared day and night like a mad bull. Then from morning till morning it rained incessantly, fine as water dust, turning clay roads and paths into solid thick mud, in which wagons and carriages got bogged down for a long time. Then a fierce hurricane blew from the northwest, from the side of the steppe; from him the tops of the trees swayed, bending down and straightening up, like waves in a storm, the iron roofs of the dachas rattled at night, it seemed as if someone was running on them in shod boots, the window frames trembled, the doors slammed, and the chimneys howled wildly. Several fishing boats got lost in the sea, and two did not return at all: only a week later the corpses of fishermen were thrown out in different places on the coast.

The inhabitants of the suburban seaside resort - mostly Greeks and Jews, cheerful and suspicious, like all southerners - hurriedly moved to the city. Cargo drogs stretched endlessly along the softened highway, overloaded with all sorts of household items: mattresses, sofas, chests, chairs, washstands, samovars. It was pitiful, and sad, and disgusting to look through the muddy muslin of rain at this miserable belongings, which seemed so worn out, dirty and beggarly; on the maids and cooks sitting on top of the wagon on a wet tarpaulin with some kind of irons, tins and baskets in their hands, on sweaty, exhausted horses, which now and then stopped, trembling at the knees, smoking and often carrying sides, on hoarsely cursing quails, wrapped up from the rain in mats. It was even sadder to see the abandoned dachas with their sudden spaciousness, emptiness and bareness, with mutilated flowerbeds, broken glass, abandoned dogs and all sorts of dacha rubbish from cigarette butts, pieces of paper, shards, boxes and apothecary's vials.

But by the beginning of September, the weather suddenly changed abruptly and quite unexpectedly. Quiet, cloudless days immediately set in, so clear, sunny and warm that there were none even in July. On the dry, compressed fields, on their prickly yellow bristles, autumn cobwebs shone with a mica sheen. The calmed trees silently and obediently dropped their yellow leaves.

Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, could not leave the dachas, because the repairs in their city house had not yet been completed. And now she was very glad of the lovely days that had come, the silence, the solitude, the clean air, the chirping on the telegraph wires of the swallows flocking to fly away, and the gentle salty breeze that weakly blew from the sea.

II

In addition, today was her name day - September 17th. According to sweet, distant memories of childhood, she always loved this day and always expected something happy and wonderful from him. Her husband, leaving in the morning on urgent business in the city, put a case with beautiful pear-shaped pearl earrings on her night table, and this gift amused her even more.

She was alone in the whole house. Her unmarried brother Nikolai, a fellow prosecutor, who usually lived with them, also went to the city, to the court. For dinner, the husband promised to bring a few and only the closest acquaintances. It turned out well that the name day coincided with summer time. In the city, one would have to spend money on a big ceremonial dinner, perhaps even on a ball, but here, in the country, one could manage with the smallest expenses. Prince Shein, despite his prominent position in society, and perhaps thanks to him, could barely make ends meet. The huge family estate was almost completely upset by his ancestors, and he had to live above his means: to make receptions, do charity, dress well, keep horses, etc. Princess Vera, whose former passionate love for her husband had long since passed into a strong, faithful feeling, true friendship, tried with all her might to help the prince refrain from complete ruin. She in many ways, imperceptibly for him, denied herself and, as far as possible, economized in the household.

Now she was walking in the garden and carefully cutting flowers for the dinner table with scissors. The flower beds were empty and looked disordered. Multi-colored terry carnations were blooming, as well as levka - half in flowers, and half in thin green pods that smelled of cabbage, rose bushes still gave - for the third time this summer - buds and roses, but already shredded, rare, as if degenerate. On the other hand, dahlias, peonies and asters bloomed magnificently with their cold, arrogant beauty, spreading an autumnal, grassy, ​​sad smell in the sensitive air. The rest of the flowers, after their luxurious love and excessive abundant summer motherhood, quietly showered countless seeds of a future life on the ground.

Close by on the highway came the familiar sound of a three-ton car horn. It was the sister of Princess Vera, Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, who had promised in the morning to come by phone to help her sister receive guests and take care of the house.

Subtle hearing did not deceive Vera. She walked towards. A few minutes later a graceful carriage came to an abrupt halt at the dacha gate, and the driver, deftly jumping down from the seat, flung open the door.

The sisters kissed happily. From early childhood, they were attached to each other by a warm and caring friendship. In appearance, they were strangely not similar to each other. The eldest, Vera, took after her mother, a beautiful Englishwoman, with her tall, flexible figure, gentle, but cold and proud face, beautiful, although rather large hands, and that charming sloping of her shoulders, which can be seen in old miniatures. The youngest, Anna, on the contrary, inherited the Mongol blood of her father, a Tatar prince, whose grandfather was baptized only at the beginning of the 19th century and whose ancient family went back to Tamerlane, or Lang-Temir, as her father proudly called her, in Tatar, this great bloodsucker. She was half a head shorter than her sister, somewhat broad in the shoulders, lively and frivolous, a mocker. Her face was of a strongly Mongolian type, with rather noticeable cheekbones, with narrow eyes, which, moreover, she screwed up due to myopia, with an haughty expression in her small, sensual mouth, especially in her full lower lip slightly protruding forward - this face, however, captivated some then an elusive and incomprehensible charm, which consisted, perhaps, in a smile, perhaps in the deep femininity of all features, perhaps in a piquant, provocatively coquettish facial expression. Her graceful ugliness excited and attracted the attention of men much more often and stronger than her sister's aristocratic beauty.

She was married to a very rich and very stupid person, who did absolutely nothing, but was listed at some charitable institution and had the title of chamber junker. She could not stand her husband, but she gave birth to two children from him - a boy and a girl; She decided not to have any more children, and never did. As for Vera, she greedily wanted children, and even, it seemed to her, the more the better, but for some reason they were not born to her, and she painfully and ardently adored pretty anemic children younger sister, always decent and obedient, with pale, powdery faces and curled flaxen doll hair.

Anna consisted entirely of cheerful carelessness and sweet, sometimes strange contradictions. She willingly indulged in the most risky flirting in all the capitals and in all the resorts of Europe, but she never cheated on her husband, whom, however, she contemptuously ridiculed both in the eyes and behind the eyes; she was extravagant, terribly fond of gambling, dancing, strong impressions, sharp spectacles, visited dubious cafes abroad, but at the same time she was distinguished by generous kindness and deep, sincere piety, which forced her even to secretly accept Catholicism. She had a rare beauty back, chest and shoulders. Going to big balls, she was exposed much more than the limits allowed by decency and fashion, but it was said that under the low neckline she always wore a sackcloth.

Vera, on the other hand, was strictly simple, coldly and a little condescendingly kind to everyone, independent and royally calm.

III

- My God, how good it is here! How good! - Anna said, walking with quick and small steps next to her sister along the path. - If possible, let's sit a little on the bench above the cliff. I haven't seen the sea in such a long time. And what a wonderful air: you breathe - and your heart rejoices. In the Crimea, in Miskhor, last summer I made an amazing discovery. Do you know what it smells like? sea ​​water during the surf? Imagine - mignonette.

Vera smiled softly.

- You are a dreamer.

- No no. I also remember the time everyone laughed at me when I said that there is some kind of pink tint in the moonlight. And the other day the artist Boritsky - that's the one who paints my portrait - agreed that I was right and that artists have long known about this.

– Is the artist your new hobby?

- You can always figure it out! - Anna laughed and, quickly going to the very edge of the cliff, which fell like a sheer wall deep into the sea, looked down and suddenly screamed in horror and staggered back with a pale face.

- Oh, how high! she said in a weak and trembling voice. - When I look from such a height, I always somehow tickle sweetly and disgustingly in my chest ... and my toes ache ... And yet it pulls, pulls ...

She wanted to bend over the cliff again, but her sister stopped her.

- Anna, my dear, for God's sake! It makes my head spin when you do that. Please sit down.

- Well, well, well, sat down ... But just look, what beauty, what joy - just the eye will not get enough. If you knew how grateful I am to God for all the miracles that he has done for us!

Both thought for a moment. Deep, deep beneath them lay the sea. The shore was not visible from the bench, and therefore the feeling of infinity and grandeur of the expanse of the sea intensified even more. The water was tenderly calm and cheerfully blue, brightening only in oblique smooth stripes in the places of the current and turning into a deep deep blue color on the horizon.

Fishing boats, hardly marked by the eye - they seemed so small - dozed motionless in the sea surface, not far from the shore. And then, as if standing in the air, not moving forward, a three-masted ship, all dressed from top to bottom with monotonous white slender sails, bulging from the wind.

“I understand you,” she said thoughtfully. older sister, but it's not the same for me as it is for you. When I see the sea for the first time after a long time, it both excites me, and pleases, and amazes me. As if for the first time I see a huge, solemn miracle. But then, when I get used to it, it starts to crush me with its flat emptiness ... I miss looking at it, and I try not to look anymore. Bored.

Anna smiled.

- What are you? the sister asked.