Murdoc Niccals from the very morning waited for Miss Pot to return to the mansion and out of boredom he occupied himself with everything that came to hand, although nothing could captivate him and he dropped everything as soon as he took it. Finally, an hour before dinner, he heard a coachman drive up to the house. He dropped everything and jumped off. He met Miss Pot at the servants' entrance.
"Good afternoon, sir," said Miss Pot coldly.
"Something happened?" Murdoc asked. "With your relatives."
"It's okay, sir, thanks for asking," Miss said indifferently. "With your permission, I will go up to my room, because dinner is coming soon."
Murdoc nodded and Miss Pot wanted to walk past, but Murdoc tried to touch her hand and she, startled, jerked it back.
"You scared me," the miss muttered.
"Sorry," Murdoc said, also a little startled.
"Please don't do that," Miss Pot said, bowing down and leaving the room.
For the rest of the day, she, as before, tried to avoid the company of Murdoc, and he, in despair, stopped pursuing her. But when night fell, he came to her door.
"Miss," he called.
This time he was not answered. He stood at the door for some time and was forced to go to his room.
This state of affairs continued for some time. During the day, Miss Pot was busy with housework, not paying much attention to the young master, and at night, when he tried to find out at the locked door what had happened, she remained speechless.
At first, Murdoc humbly agreed with her will, but one day he couldn't stand it and did what he did not allow himself before - entered his younger brother's study room, while Miss Pot was giving a writing lesson. Murdoc knew that she couldn't get him out of the room, which meant he could talk to her anyway.
"Good afternoon," Miss Pot said, instantly rising to her feet as Murdoc entered.
"Good," he said.
'Do you want something?" She asked, fiddling with a book.
"Never mind me," Murdoc said, walking over to the bookcase. "I'll stay here for a while and leave."
Miss Pot, bewildered, sank back down to her desk.
"Where did we leave off?" She asked Niccals Jr.
"On the branches," the boy said, looking at Miss Pot.
"So, a second…" - exhaling, said the miss, running her finger along the lines. "Spring has come... Now… Here! We write: The branches are swollen on the buds of trees in the forest. Stop! Don't write. I mean... The branches are swollen on the buds…"
"The branches are swollen on the buds..."
"Oh, no!" stopped Miss Pot. "I wanted to say… Ah. Let's start with this sentence." she paused to calm down. "The buds are swollen on the branches of trees in the forest. So true. Write. The buds...
"The buds..."
"Are swollen. Do you have time? The buds are swollen on the branches... of trees... on the branches of trees in the forest. The buds are swollen on the branches of trees in the forest"
Miss Pot exhaled heavily, defeating the unfortunate branches with buds.
"Done," said Niccals Jr.
"Oh, let me see... Right. Young green grass... Further, we write further. Young green grass appeared from under the ground.
"Young… green…"
"...grass appeared from under the ground."
"Grass appeared…"
"...from under the ground." Miss Pot lifted her head and glanced furtively at the back of Murdoc, who was sorting through the books by the bookcase. "Young... green grass ... Young green grass appeared. Oh! It's not green here, but fresh... Although it's good, right?"
"Yes, miss," agreed Niccals Jr.
"The last sentence," Miss Pot said, feeling her fever rush. "Birds sing loudly, welcoming the sun."
"Birds...
"Birds sing loudly…"
Murdoc turned, noticing the gaze, and Miss Pot immediately buried herself in her book, twisting her fingers around the pendant around her neck.
"Further?" the student hastened.
"The birds are singing loudly, welcoming the sun," said Miss Pot.
"Birds…"
"Are singing loudly, welcoming the sun," repeated the miss quickly.
"Welcoming…"
"The sun," muttered Miss Pot.
"That's a point," said the boy. "Are we done, miss?"
"With that, yes," replied Miss Pot.
"Can I get some rest?"
"Yes... uh... Let's stop for a minute. I'll check it out for now, then we'll continue."
"Can I go to the kitchen, miss? And I'll be right back!" said the boy..
"Yes, good," said Miss Pot.
The boy jumped up from behind the desk, almost dropping it, and slowly reached the door, jumped into the corridor, and then rushed to the kitchen.
"Miss Pot," Murdoc called out to her, choosing one book.
Miss continued to pretend to check the dictation. Murdoc walked across the room and sat down at the low student's desk opposite her.
"Miss?" He repeated softly, bending down and looking at Miss Pot right in the face.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"Have I offended you in any way?"
"You haven't, sir."
"You are angry at some of my words?"
"By no means."
"In that case, what's the matter?
"I don't know what you mean, sir. I'm just checking the dictation."
"Why don't you want to talk to me and avoid me again? What can I do or say to let me just be with you?"
"What do you want?" Miss Pot asked, looking up. "Stop coming to me at night. Why are you doing this? If someone sees you, do you understand how this could turn out? Leave me, please. Does this sound interesting to you? Do you consider me to be some kind of an actor from the troupe of the circus freaks?"
"What are you saying?.." Murdoc asked in amazement. "I don't…"
"I think you should find some other amusement," said Miss Pot.
"I don't see it as amusement at all…" Murdoc muttered. "It's just that you are with me ...
"I'm not with you," snapped the miss. "It's just spring, flowers and damn branches with swollen buds. You must understand this. This is not about us. It's about spring."
"But what if we could…"
"I'll tell you this once," continued Miss Pot, indignant. "Don't dare to come to me!.." She lowered her tone. "Don't you dare come today. My door will be locked as always. Don't come to me anymore. I forbid you."
Saying this, Miss Pot rose from the table. Murdoc, repeating her movements, also got out from behind the desk.
"Miss, I just wanted…" he began.
At that moment, his brother returned to the room.
"Have you finished checking?" He asked, wiping his mouth from the drink he had just drunk in the kitchen.
"Yes, sir, let's get on with it," Miss Pot said with a smile. "We still have a lot of work to do today. The sooner we start, the faster we finish."
Murdoc stepped aside, letting him in and continuing to stare at Miss Pot.
"Sir?" She turned to Murdoc.
He lowered the volume of a book he didn't need on the edge of her desk, then went out and closed the door.
Murdoc saw Miss Pot bid Mrs. Niccals good night that evening. He silently watched as she left to go to her room. He leaned back in his chair, sat for a while and, having also said good night to his mother, went to his room.
In his room he sat for a long time, staring into the smoldering fireplace and thinking. He was not going to sleep, but he could not do anything either. He got up, walked around the room, went to the window and, pulling back the edge of the curtain, looked at the pale moon that had risen over the garden.
At some point, he made up his mind, turned around and left the room. Not really hiding, he went to the part of the house where the servants lived and in the usual way went up to Miss Pot's room. He was going to apologize until Miss Pot forgives him for everything he did wrong.
Stopping at her door, he was about to knock and call her, but the door creaked and swayed under his hand. Murdoc pressed on her and realized that she was not locked. Looking around like a thief, he pushed the door harder and, when it swung open, stepped into the room.
Closing the door behind him, he peered into the dark room.
Miss Pot stood staring at the moonlight by the opposite window, all in white night clothes. Clicking the lock, Murdoc closed the door. Miss Pot looked over her shoulder and dropped her hand to pull off the shawl. She turned to Murdoc, and in the dimness of the room he clearly saw that she was looking at him directly, and not as usual, turning away and hiding her gaze.
Murdoc stepped closer carefully. Miss Pot said nothing, just looked at him without embarrassment. When he got very close, just enough to see her lips, she said almost inaudibly:
"You were not scared, you came."
"Why did I have to be afraid? I am the master here," Murdoc said.
Miss Pot smiled.
"Fool," she said, looking into his eyes.
She reached out to him, and he, feeling some kind of fright, suddenly knelt down, hugging her around the waist and pressing against her legs in a fit of sudden happy euphoria.
"Saints…" the miss murmured, stroking his hair. "What are you?.."
Murdoc climbed up and, wrapping his arms around Miss Pot's neck, finally kissed her. Hearing, as if from the side, the sound of his own kiss, he froze, not believing that this was happening in reality.
"I can leave," Murdoc said in a shaky voice.
"Do you want to leave?" She asked.
Murdoc shook his head.
"And you?" He asked with a sinking heart.
Miss Pot bent down to his ear and whispered:
"I want you to stay."
Lying naked in someone else's bed, Murdoc still felt uncomfortable, despite everything that had happened during the time he spent in the room, but looking at Stu - that was now Miss Pot's name for him, he didn't allow himself to show shyness, trying to look confident and calm.
"You will not regret it?" He asked, remaining, however, very foolish.
After a little pause, Stu replied:
"That you finally said you love me?.. No. Not at all."
Murdoc hugged him tighter with a sweet shiver all over his body.
"I wouldn't like to part with you ... But you have to go," closing his eyes, Stu said quietly.
"Yes," Murdoc agreed without moving.
Stu reached for Murdoc's shirt and tossed it over his shoulder on the bed.
"Sir, please…" Stu muttered.
"Oh, please don't," Murdoc growled softly into his neck as he kicked the shirt off his head.
"Murdoc…" Stu turned to face him and, smoothing his hair with both hands, said: "If you have a desire, you can come tomorrow. Not! Day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, Mrs. has guests, we will make pudding and everything else."
"I'll go into the kitchen to try," Murdoc muttered and kissed him.
"Don't," Stu said, humbly accepting the kisses. "Better just come the day after tomorrow. Now, please, go and get some sleep. You should get some sleep."
"Yes, miss," Murdoc said, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm.
"Should I dress you or you do it yourself?.."
Hearing this, Murdoc found the strength to rise. He quickly got dressed, pulled on his boots, while Stu put on his nightgown and, straightening his hair, also got out of bed. At the door, Murdoc kissed him again, wanted to say something, but said nothing and just walked out into the corridor.
Back in his room, he flew on wings, not noticing anything around. As he went to bed, he thought smugly that everything was not bad at all in his life, he must admit it. With these thoughts he fell asleep.