The Sweet-Scented Name. Fyodor Sologub
was barefoot when you met her first and had very little clothing. But we don't know what kind of garments she will want to wear in a town."
Peter Antònovitch himself was rather pessimistic at first. But by and by he remembered how he had found a dress for Turandina in the little bag. A bold thought came into his mind, and he smiled and said:
"I found a house-frock for Turandina in her little bag. Perhaps if I were to rummage in it again I might find a ball-dress for her."
But the teacher's wife, a kind young woman with a genius for housekeeping, said:
"Much better if you could find some money. If only she had five hundred roubles we could manage to get her a good trousseau."
"We ought to find five hundred thousand—for a princess's dowry," said Peter Antònovitch, laughing.
"Oh, a hundred thousand would be quite enough for you," laughed his cousin in reply.
Just then Turandina came quietly up the steps leading from the garden, and Peter Antònovitch called to her and said:
"Turandina, show me your little bag, dear. Perhaps you have a hundred thousand roubles there."
Turandina held out her little bag to him and said:
"If it's necessary, you will find it in the bag."
And Peter Antònovitch again put his hand into the little bag and drew forth a large packet of notes. He began to count them, but without counting he could see they represented a large quantity of money.
VII
So this great fairy-tale came into the young man's life. And though it didn't seem well suited to the taking-in of a fairy-tale, yet room was found for it somewhere. The fairy-tale bought a place in his life—with its own charm and the treasures of the enchanted bag.
Turandina and the young lawyer were married. And Turandina had first a little son and then a daughter. The boy was like his mother, and grew up to be a gentle dreamy child. The girl was like her father, gay and intelligent.
And so the years went by. Every summer, when the days were at their longest, a strange melancholy overshadowed Turandina. She used to go out in the mornings to the edge of the forest and stand there listening to the forest voices. And after some time she would walk home again slowly and sadly.
And once, standing there at midday, she heard a loud voice calling to her:
"Turandina, come. Your father has forgiven you."
And so she went away and never returned. Her little son was then seven years old and her daughter three.
Thus the fairy-tale departed from this life and never came back. But Turandina's little son never forgot his mother.
Sometimes he would wander away by himself so as to be quite alone. And when he came home again there was such an expression upon his face that the teacher's wife said to her husband in a whisper:
"He has been with Turandina."
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