Diploma and proven skills regarding your referral force me to entrust you with my son. - I hope you are not offended and understand me, Roman Antonovich?

I replied that “there is nothing to be offended” and that I understand how difficult it is to find the right person.

- Absolutely. I would never have invited a young man to my son, especially one as young as you, to whom I have no confidence. Often young people, perhaps quite sincerely, throw seeds at the heads of children, which will later give sad shoots. Unfortunately, much in our life contributes to this and, as it were, confirms the absurdity that is being fed into the unvoiced teachers of children's heads.

Mr Ryazanov stopped for a second, adjusted his glasses and continued:

- I, Roman Antonovich, I love my son very much, and you will understand why I allowed myself to draw your attention to the difficulties that are borne by the parents. I will ask you, Roman Antonovich, about all the delicate questions that the boy can offer to tell me. My boy is very nervous, and you have to be careful with him. Together we will respond to his delicate questions. I would like, and as far as I can, I will try to achieve that a sober, reasonable servant comes out of the boy to the fatherland, ”continued Mr. Ryazanov excitedly,“ understanding that we must be content with the possible, and not strive for the impossible. We must be able to make concessions. We must live, and not eat fantasies.

I listened to Mr. Ryazanov with pleasure. His speech found a complete response in me. He seemed to be repeating everything that I often thought about a lot and that made me go, without turning aside, on the road I had chosen. I did not know at that time how Lord Ryazanov had achieved his position — whether he punched his way, as he put it, “with a hump” or not, but in any case, he was right a thousand times when he said that “live it is necessary, and not to eat fantasy. "

Mr. Ryazanov must have noticed the favorable impression made on me by his words, because, having finished his speech, he gently remarked:

- Well, now let's talk about the conditions, Roman Antonovich!

At this point we soon came together. He offered me seventy-five thousand rubles a month.

“Now meet your son,” Ryazanov said and called.

A few minutes later a boy entered the office, looking like a father. The same ugly face and the same intelligent, black eyes, but of addition he was gentle, and his look was somehow thoughtful.

Ryazanov kissed his son with love and, introducing me to him, said:

- Here, Volodya, your summer teacher, Roman Antonovich. He was so kind that he agreed to help you study.

Volodya held out his thin hand, looked at me with his thoughtful eyes and said nothing.

- Mom got up? - asked the father.

“No, he is still sleeping,” answered Volodya.

The boy soon left the office, and Ryazanov said:

- Volodya, as you probably noticed, poor health. In addition, he is very nervous boy. However, you yourself will see it. So, please, Roman Antonovich, take care of him and do not let him do too much. Yes, write me how he learns. I will not go to the village now; a month or two you will live without me. I can only come in August. Wife is going in a week. Can you be ready for departure by this time?

- Can.

- Well, fine, and today you are welcome to dine at five o'clock. By the way, you will soon get to know your wife, and then we will finally decide the day of departure.

When I came to the Ryazanovs again at five o'clock, Mrs. Ryazanova greeted me quite affably and, looking at me, seemed to be pleased that they would have a teacher in their house who looked decent.

She said a few kind words, expressed the hope that I would not be bored in the village, and, as it seems, had nothing against the choice of a husband. She was a woman of twenty-six or seven, a beautiful, stately, prominent brunette, with brisk brown eyes and graceful manners, in which the spoiledness of a naughty woman accustomed to worship peeped.

At dinner, Mr. Ryazanov seemed not at all the way he was in the study. Before his wife, he fell silent, throwing restless glances at her, full of love and affection. And she didn’t seem to notice them and whimsically made mines when Mr. Ryazanov did not agree with her in anything. It was impossible not to notice at once that this lady was a spoiled creature and played the first role in the house. With my husband she was condescendingly amiable and seemed to me cold. At lunch she changed the days of departure twice and finally decided that she was leaving in eight days.

- This decision, I hope, the last? - Ryazanov joked gently.

Ryazanova made a displeased grimace and replied:

- Last thing!

Volodya threw a quick glance at her, in which there was no attachment ...

Eight days later I took the old laptop, phone, toothbrush and shaving razor with me. Ryazanov is a girl of about sixteen, and Volodya.

Ryazanov was somehow gloomy and unhappy. He sat near his wife and said something to her, but she seemed not to listen very attentively to him and continued to look at the public.

When I approached the group, Ryazanova looked me over from head to toe, nodded her head, and said dryly:

- Finally! We thought you were going to be late.

Ryazanov kindly extended his hand and said:

- In vain you will embarrass a young man: another half an hour before the train leaves.

Then he introduced me to his sister-in-law and niece, and, putting aside, said:

- Look, Roman Antonovich, write me how Volodya does. Write more often, he dropped.

I promised to write about my son, and we approached the group.

Ryazanova looked at me intently, looked away, and in a strange way she shrugged her shoulders, glancing at her salutary husband.

It was time to get into the cars. Ryazanova rose from her seat, and behind her the rest of the company with bags, trunks and bags. I was also given to carry a small bag. Husband and wife went together and talked animatedly. I was walking not far from them, and I could hear Ryazanova’s laughter and the cheerful voice of my husband. On the platform, Ryazanov did not have a gloomy look. On the contrary, he was pleased and cheerful and did not depart from his wife. Apparently, she was able to change his mood at will.

For the Ryazanov family, a special compartment was allotted, in which the ladies' company was located. Ryazanova, however, found herself cramped and made a face, so that her husband glanced uneasily at her. However, when all the suitcases and trunks were put in place, it turned out that "nothing is too great."

My place was in the next car. I took a seat by the window and got out of the car to observe the Ryazanovs, to whom fate had cast me. I liked Ryazanov very much, but she herself seemed to be a capricious and spoiled woman, who, perhaps, would be hard to please.

- You, Roman Antonovich, be so kind, visit occasionally the ladies and do not leave them on the road at all! - Ryazanov kindly asked me to turn around to me.

- By all means.

- Do not be scared by the requests of her husband! - put Ryazanov. - You do not have to bother with us. We used to travel.

I looked at the young lady. She was unusually elegant in a short traveling dress, tightly fitting her beautiful camp and not hiding the little legs, shod in boots with thick soles, with a bag over her shoulder and a straw hat, worn almost at the back of the head. She was so fresh, beautiful, stately. Everything on her was elegant and simple. A thin trickle of fragrant aroma pleasantly tickled the nerves when she stood close.Her friendly face was played by the friendly, contented smile of a well-groomed woman, conscious of her ... Read more →