During Zoya's illness Shura did a lot of drawing work. He would draw till late at night and sometimes even in the morning before going to school. Then he handed in the drawings and received the money, but did not give it to me as he had always done in the past.
I asked no questions, knowing that in good time he himself would say what he wanted to do with the money. I was not mistaken. The day before we were to go to the hospital to fetch Zoya, Shura said, "Here you are, Mum. Here's the money for a new dress for Zoya. Thought I'd buy the cloth, but she'd better do that herself. Let her choose what she likes."
Zoya came out of the ward to meet us, pale and thin, but her eyes were shining. She hugged me and Shura, who at once looked round in fright to see if anyone was watching.
"Come on, I want to go home!" said Zoya hurriedly, as if afraid they would put her back into the ward.
And we started off very gently, halting every now and then because we were afraid of tiring her. But Zoya wanted to go quicker. She kept staring at everything hungrily, like one, who had been locked up indoors for a long time. She would screw up her eyes at the cold bright sun and smile. I could see that she was thrilled by the crunch of snow under her feet, the trees fluffy with hoarfrost, and the tiny glittering sparks that danced merrily in the air. A faint pink glow appeared on her cheeks.
At home she went slowly round the room, touching everything: she smoothed her pillow, patted the tablecloth and the edge of the cupboard, turned over the pages of one or two books, as if she were making the acquaintance of all these ordinary things all over again. And then Shura came up to her. He was at once grave and bashful.
"This is for you to buy a new dress with," he said holding out the money.
"Thank you very much," answered Zoya gravely.
She did not argue or protest as she usually did when there was a suggestion of buying something for her. And her face showed that she was pleased and touched.
"Lie down now, you're tired!" Shura commanded her, and Zoya complied just as obediently and gratefully.
While I was busy arranging sanatorium accommodation for Zoya, she did not attend school. She stayed at home and took up her books.
"I would very much like you to stay for a second term," I said cautiously. "You must not study seriously yet."
"No, not on any account!" answered Zoya shaking her head obstinately. "After I've been to the sanatorium I'm going to study like a tiger (she smiled fleetingly, as she used one of Shura's sayings). And in the summer I will study, too. I mean to catch up. Or else, what a nice thing it will be: Shura younger than me and finishing school first! No, not for anything!"
Zoya delighted in life like one who has just escaped mortal danger.
She would sing from morning till night: when doing her hair in front of the mirror, sweeping the floor, sewing…Often she would sing Beethoven's Klärchen's Song, which she liked very much:
The drums are heating, the flute doth play,
My dear one is leading his men to the fray,
The regiment marches at his behest.
Oh, how my heart burns in my breast!
Oh, were but a helmet and mail to hand,
I would defend my native land!
Where'er they went in their steps I'd march.
Behold, the enemy's line doth wave,
What joy to be a soldier brave!
Zoya's voice rang with the joy of living. And as she sang them even the melancholy lines of Mountain Heights seemed full of quiet joy and hope:
No dust upon the way,
No leaf stirs in the dell.
Wait a little, pray,
You shall rest as well.
During these days Shura would often wake Zoya sit by the window and draw her.
"You know what," he said thoughtfully once, "I read once that from his childhood days Surikov loved to study people's faces to see how their eyes were placed, how their features were formed. And he discovered that a beautiful face is one where the features harmonize with each other. You see, someone can have a snub nose and prominent cheekbones, but if it all harmonizes then the face is beautiful."
"And have I got a snub nose? Is that what you're driving at?" asked Zoya laughing.
"No," answered Shura shyly, with unusual tenderness in his voice. "I mean that your face is harmonious. Everything matches: the forehead, the eyes, the mouth…
Next: Arkadi Petrovich