More Tales from Tolstoi
to stop till the winter season," said the doctor, shaking his head significantly—"and then the roads might be bad."
"Aksusha! Aksusha!" screamed the daughter of the post-master, throwing a shawl round her head, and dashing down the muddy back staircase, "come and look at Lady Shirkinskaya, they say she's going abroad for breast sickness. I have never seen how consumptives look before."
Aksusha leaped across the threshold, and the pair of them, taking each other by the hand, ran out to the gate. Slackening their steps, they passed close to the carriage and stared into the open window. The invalid turned her head towards them, but, observing their curiosity, frowned and turned away.
"Little mother!" cried the post-master's daughter, quickly turning her head round, "how wonderfully beautiful she used to be, and what is she now! It is frightful. Did you see her—did you see her, Aksusha?"
"And how lean!" chimed in Aksusha. "Come, let us see what is in the bottom of the coach. Look, she has turned away, and I have not seen half. What a pity, Masha!"
"Yes, and how muddy it is!"—and they both ran back through the gate again.
"I suppose I do look frightful," thought the invalid.
"Oh, only let us make haste, make haste and go abroad, and then I shall soon pick up again."
"Well, how are you now, my friend?" said the husband, coming to the carriage, and still chewing a morsel of something.
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