Forty Stories

The Proposal

A STORY FOR GIRLS

Valentin Petrovich Peredyorkin, a handsome young man, put on a frock coat, laced his patent-leather boots with their sharp toecaps, clapped an opera hat on his head, and then, hardly able to restrain his excitement, he drove off to the house of Princess Vera Zapiskina.

How sad, dear reader, that you have never met the Princess. She is a gentle and enchanting creature with soft heavenly-blue eyes and hair like a silken wave.

The waves of the sea break on rocks, but the waves of her hair, on the contrary, would shatter and crumble into dust the hardest stone. Only an insensitive nincompoop could resist her smile or the soft charms of her very small and perfectly formed bust. Only a blockhead could fail to register feelings of absolute joy when she speaks or smiles or shows her dazzling white teeth.

Peredyorkin was received.…

He sat down facing the Princess, and he was beside himself with excitement when he said: “Princess, would you listen to something I have to say?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Princess, forgive me. I don’t know where to begin. It will be so sudden for you … so extempore.… Promise me you won’t be angry.…”

He put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and began to mop his face. All the while the Princess was smiling gently and gazing inquiringly at him.

“Princess!” he went on. “From the moment I set eyes on you, my soul … yes, my soul has been filled with unquenchable desires. These desires give me no peace during the day or during the night … and if these desires are to remain unfulfilled, I will be utterly miserable.…”

The Princess lowered her gaze meditatively.

Peredyorkin was silent for a moment, and went on: “Oh, my dear, it will come as a surprise to you.… You are above all earthly concerns, but … I regard you as the most suitable.…”

A silence followed.

“Most especially,” Peredyorkin sighed, “because our estates are contiguous.… I am rich.…”

“Yes, but what is all this about?” the Princess asked in a soft voice.

“What is it all about? Oh, Princess!” Peredyorkin exclaimed impetuously, rising to his feet. “I entreat you, do not refuse me.… Do not ruin my plans with your refusal. My dear, permit me to propose to you …”

Valentin Petrovich suddenly sat down, leaned over toward the Princess, and whispered: “I am making the most profitable proposal possible.… This way we shall be able to sell a million poods of tallow in a single year.… Let us start on our adjoining estates a limited liability company dedicated to tallow boiling!”

The Princess reflected for a moment, and then she said: “With great pleasure!”

The feminine reader, who expected a melodramatic ending, may relax.

October 1886