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diff --git a/2637-h/2637-h.htm b/2637-h/2637-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c876d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/2637-h/2637-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7584 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Youth, by Leo Tolstoy + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Youth, by Leo Tolstoy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Youth + +Author: Leo Tolstoy + +Translator: C. J. Hogarth + +Release Date: January 10, 2009 [EBook #2637] +Last Updated: September 11, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUTH *** + + + + +Produced by Martin Adamson, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + YOUTH + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Leo Tolstoy/Tolstoi + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by C. J. Hogarth + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. WHAT I CONSIDER TO HAVE BEEN THE BEGINNING + OF MY YOUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. SPRINGTIME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. DREAMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. OUR FAMILY CIRCLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. MY RULES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. THE EXPEDITION TO THE MONASTERY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. THE SECOND CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. HOW I PREPARED MYSELF FOR THE EXAMINATIONS + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. THE EXAMINATION IN HISTORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. MY EXAMINATION IN MATHEMATICS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. MY EXAMINATION IN LATIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XIII. I BECOME GROWN-UP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIV. HOW WOLODA AND DUBKOFF AMUSED THEMSELVES + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XV. I AM FETED AT DINNER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XVI. THE QUARREL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVII. I GET READY TO PAY SOME CALLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVIII. THE VALAKHIN FAMILY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XIX. THE KORNAKOFFS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XX. THE IWINS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XXI. PRINCE IVAN IVANOVITCH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXII. INTIMATE CONVERSATION WITH MY FRIEND + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXIII. THE NECHLUDOFFS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIV. LOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXV. I BECOME BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE + NECHLUDOFFS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXVI. I SHOW OFF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXVII. DIMITRI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVIII. IN THE COUNTRY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXIX. RELATIONS BETWEEN THE GIRLS AND + OURSELVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXX. HOW I EMPLOYED MY TIME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXXI. “COMME IL FAUT” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXXII. YOUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXXIII. OUR NEIGHBOURS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> XXXIV. MY FATHER’S SECOND MARRIAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXXV. HOW WE RECEIVED THE NEWS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXVI. THE UNIVERSITY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XXXVII. AFFAIRS OF THE HEART </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XXXVIII. THE WORLD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> XXXIX. THE STUDENTS’ FEAST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> XL. MY FRIENDSHIP WITH THE NECHLUDOFFS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> XLI. MY FRIENDSHIP WITH THE NECHLUDOFFS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> XLII. OUR STEPMOTHER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> XLIII. NEW COMRADES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> XLIV. ZUCHIN AND SEMENOFF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> XLV. I COME TO GRIEF </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. WHAT I CONSIDER TO HAVE BEEN THE BEGINNING OF MY YOUTH + </h2> + <p> + I have said that my friendship with Dimitri opened up for me a new view of + my life and of its aim and relations. The essence of that view lay in the + conviction that the destiny of man is to strive for moral improvement, and + that such improvement is at once easy, possible, and lasting. Hitherto, + however, I had found pleasure only in the new ideas which I discovered to + arise from that conviction, and in the forming of brilliant plans for a + moral, active future, while all the time my life had been continuing along + its old petty, muddled, pleasure-seeking course, and the same virtuous + thoughts which I and my adored friend Dimitri (“my own marvellous Mitia,” + as I used to call him to myself in a whisper) had been wont to exchange + with one another still pleased my intellect, but left my sensibility + untouched. Nevertheless there came a moment when those thoughts swept into + my head with a sudden freshness and force of moral revelation which left + me aghast at the amount of time which I had been wasting, and made me feel + as though I must at once—that very second—apply those thoughts + to life, with the firm intention of never again changing them. + </p> + <p> + It is from that moment that I date the beginning of my youth. + </p> + <p> + I was then nearly sixteen. Tutors still attended to give me lessons, St. + Jerome still acted as general supervisor of my education, and, + willy-nilly, I was being prepared for the University. In addition to my + studies, my occupations included certain vague dreamings and ponderings, a + number of gymnastic exercises to make myself the finest athlete in the + world, a good deal of aimless, thoughtless wandering through the rooms of + the house (but more especially along the maidservants’ corridor), and much + looking at myself in the mirror. From the latter, however, I always turned + away with a vague feeling of depression, almost of repulsion. Not only did + I feel sure that my exterior was ugly, but I could derive no comfort from + any of the usual consolations under such circumstances. I could not say, + for instance, that I had at least an expressive, clever, or refined face, + for there was nothing whatever expressive about it. Its features were of + the most humdrum, dull, and unbecoming type, with small grey eyes which + seemed to me, whenever I regarded them in the mirror, to be stupid rather + than clever. Of manly bearing I possessed even less, since, although I was + not exactly small of stature, and had, moreover, plenty of strength for my + years, every feature in my face was of the meek, sleepy-looking, + indefinite type. Even refinement was lacking in it, since, on the + contrary, it precisely resembled that of a simple-looking moujik, while I + also had the same big hands and feet as he. At the time, all this seemed + to me very shameful. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. SPRINGTIME + </h2> + <p> + Easter of the year when I entered the University fell late in April, so + that the examinations were fixed for St. Thomas’s Week, [Easter week.] and + I had to spend Good Friday in fasting and finally getting myself ready for + the ordeal. + </p> + <p> + Following upon wet snow (the kind of stuff which Karl Ivanitch used to + describe as “a child following, its father”), the weather had for three + days been bright and mild and still. Not a clot of snow was now to be seen + in the streets, and the dirty slush had given place to wet, shining + pavements and coursing rivulets. The last icicles on the roofs were fast + melting in the sunshine, buds were swelling on the trees in the little + garden, the path leading across the courtyard to the stables was soft + instead of being a frozen ridge of mud, and mossy grass was showing green + between the stones around the entrance-steps. It was just that particular + time in spring when the season exercises the strongest influence upon the + human soul—when clear sunlight illuminates everything, yet sheds no + warmth, when rivulets run trickling under one’s feet, when the air is + charged with an odorous freshness, and when the bright blue sky is + streaked with long, transparent clouds. + </p> + <p> + For some reason or another the influence of this early stage in the birth + of spring always seems to me more perceptible and more impressive in a + great town than in the country. One sees less, but one feels more. I was + standing near the window—through the double frames of which the + morning sun was throwing its mote-flecked beams upon the floor of what + seemed to me my intolerably wearisome schoolroom—and working out a + long algebraical equation on the blackboard. In one hand I was holding a + ragged, long-suffering “Algebra” and in the other a small piece of chalk + which had already besmeared my hands, my face, and the elbows of my + jacket. Nicola, clad in an apron, and with his sleeves rolled up, was + picking out the putty from the window-frames with a pair of nippers, and + unfastening the screws. The window looked out upon the little garden. At + length his occupation and the noise which he was making over it arrested + my attention. At the moment I was in a very cross, dissatisfied frame of + mind, for nothing seemed to be going right with me. I had made a mistake + at the very beginning of my algebra, and so should have to work it out + again; twice I had let the chalk drop. I was conscious that my hands and + face were whitened all over; the sponge had rolled away into a corner; and + the noise of Nicola’s operations was fast getting on my nerves. I had a + feeling as though I wanted to fly into a temper and grumble at some one, + so I threw down chalk and “Algebra” alike, and began to pace the room. + Then suddenly I remembered that to-day we were to go to confession, and + that therefore I must refrain from doing anything wrong. Next, with equal + suddenness I relapsed into an extraordinarily goodhumoured frame of mind, + and walked across to Nicola. + </p> + <p> + “Let me help you, Nicola,” I said, trying to speak as pleasantly as I + possibly could. The idea that I was performing a meritorious action in + thus suppressing my ill-temper and offering to help him increased my + good-humour all the more. + </p> + <p> + By this time the putty had been chipped out, and the screws removed, yet, + though Nicola pulled with might and main at the cross-piece, the + window-frame refused to budge. + </p> + <p> + “If it comes out as soon as he and I begin to pull at it together,” I + thought, “it will be rather a shame, as then I shall have nothing more of + the kind to do to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the frame yielded a little at one side, and came out. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall I put it?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Let ME see to it, if you please,” replied Nicola, evidently surprised as + well as, seemingly, not over-pleased at my zeal. “We must not leave it + here, but carry it away to the lumber-room, where I keep all the frames + stored and numbered.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I can manage it,” I said as I lifted it up. I verily believe that + if the lumber-room had been a couple of versts away, and the frame twice + as heavy as it was, I should have been the more pleased. I felt as though + I wanted to tire myself out in performing this service for Nicola. When I + returned to the room the bricks and screws had been replaced on the + windowsill, and Nicola was sweeping the debris, as well as a few torpid + flies, out of the open window. The fresh, fragrant air was rushing into + and filling all the room, while with it came also the dull murmur of the + city and the twittering of sparrows in the garden. Everything was in + brilliant light, the room looked cheerful, and a gentle spring breeze was + stirring Nicola’s hair and the leaves of my “Algebra.” Approaching the + window, I sat down upon the sill, turned my eyes downwards towards the + garden, and fell into a brown study. + </p> + <p> + Something new to me, something extraordinarily potent and unfamiliar, had + suddenly invaded my soul. The wet ground on which, here and there, a few + yellowish stalks and blades of bright-green grass were to be seen; the + little rivulets glittering in the sunshine, and sweeping clods of earth + and tiny chips of wood along with them; the reddish twigs of the lilac, + with their swelling buds, which nodded just beneath the window; the fussy + twitterings of birds as they fluttered in the bush below; the blackened + fence shining wet from the snow which had lately melted off it; and, most + of all, the raw, odorous air and radiant sunlight—all spoke to me, + clearly and unmistakably, of something new and beautiful, of something + which, though I cannot repeat it here as it was then expressed to me, I + will try to reproduce so far as I understood it. Everything spoke to me of + beauty, happiness, and virtue—as three things which were both easy + and possible for me—and said that no one of them could exist without + the other two, since beauty, happiness, and virtue were one. “How did I + never come to understand that before?” I cried to myself. “How did I ever + manage to be so wicked? Oh, but how good, how happy, I could be—nay, + I WILL be—in the future! At once, at once—yes, this very + minute—I will become another being, and begin to live differently!” + For all that, I continued sitting on the window-sill, continued merely + dreaming, and doing nothing. Have you ever, on a summer’s day, gone to bed + in dull, rainy weather, and, waking just at sunset, opened your eyes and + seen through the square space of the window—the space where the + linen blind is blowing up and down, and beating its rod upon the + window-sill—the rain-soaked, shadowy, purple vista of an avenue of + lime-trees, with a damp garden path lit up by the clear, slanting beams of + the sun, and then suddenly heard the joyous sounds of bird life in the + garden, and seen insects flying to and fro at the open window, and + glittering in the sunlight, and smelt the fragrance of the rain-washed + air, and thought to yourself, “Am I not ashamed to be lying in bed on such + an evening as this?” and, leaping joyously to your feet, gone out into the + garden and revelled in all that welter of life? If you have, then you can + imagine for yourself the overpowering sensation which was then possessing + me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. DREAMS + </h2> + <p> + “To-day I will make my confession and purge myself of every sin,” I + thought to myself. “Nor will I ever commit another one.” At this point I + recalled all the peccadilloes which most troubled my conscience. “I will + go to church regularly every Sunday, as well as read the Gospel at the + close of every hour throughout the day. What is more, I will set aside, + out of the cheque which I shall receive each month after I have gone to + the University, two-and-a-half roubles” (a tenth of my monthly allowance) + “for people who are poor but not exactly beggars, yet without letting any + one know anything about it. Yes, I will begin to look out for people like + that—orphans or old women—at once, yet never tell a soul what + I am doing for them. + </p> + <p> + “Also, I will have a room here of my very own (St. Jerome’s, probably), + and look after it myself, and keep it perfectly clean. I will never let + any one do anything for me, for every one is just a human being like + myself. Likewise I will walk every day, not drive, to the University. Even + if some one gives me a drozhki [Russian phaeton.] I will sell it, and + devote the money to the poor. Everything I will do exactly and always” + (what that “always” meant I could not possibly have said, but at least I + had a vivid consciousness of its connoting some kind of prudent, moral, + and irreproachable life). “I will get up all my lectures thoroughly, and + go over all the subjects beforehand, so that at the end of my first course + I may come out top and write a thesis. During my second course also I will + get up everything beforehand, so that I may soon be transferred to the + third course, and at eighteen come out top in the examinations, and + receive two gold medals, and go on to be Master of Arts, and Doctor, and + the first scholar in Europe. Yes, in all Europe I mean to be the first + scholar.—Well, what next?” I asked myself at this point. Suddenly it + struck me that dreams of this sort were a form of pride—a sin which + I should have to confess to the priest that very evening, so I returned to + the original thread of my meditations. “When getting up my lectures I will + go to the Vorobievi Gori, [Sparrow Hills—a public park near Moscow.] + and choose some spot under a tree, and read my lectures over there. + Sometimes I will take with me something to eat—cheese or a pie from + Pedotti’s, or something of the kind. After that I will sleep a little, and + then read some good book or other, or else draw pictures or play on some + instrument (certainly I must learn to play the flute). Perhaps SHE too + will be walking on the Vorobievi Gori, and will approach me one day and + say, ‘Who are you?’ and I shall look at her, oh, so sadly, and say that I + am the son of a priest, and that I am happy only when I am there alone, + quite alone. Then she will give me her hand, and say something to me, and + sit down beside me. So every day we shall go to the same spot, and be + friends together, and I shall kiss her. But no! That would not be right! + On the contrary, from this day forward I never mean to look at a woman + again. Never, never again do I mean to walk with a girl, nor even to go + near one if I can help it. Yet, of course, in three years’ time, when I + have come of age, I shall marry. Also, I mean to take as much exercise as + ever I can, and to do gymnastics every day, so that, when I have turned + twenty-five, I shall be stronger even than Rappo. On my first day’s + training I mean to hold out half a pood [The Pood = 40 Russian pounds.] at + arm’s length for five minutes, and the next day twenty-one pounds, and the + third day twenty-two pounds, and so on, until at last I can hold out four + poods in each hand, and be stronger even than a porter. Then, if ever any + one should try to insult me or should begin to speak disrespectfully of + HER, I shall take him so, by the front of his coat, and lift him up an + arshin [The arshin = 2 feet 3 inches.] or two with one hand, and just hold + him there, so that he may feel my strength and cease from his conduct. Yet + that too would not be right. No, no, it would not matter; I should not + hurt him, merely show him that I—” + </p> + <p> + Let no one blame me because the dreams of my youth were as foolish as + those of my childhood and boyhood. I am sure that, even if it be my fate + to live to extreme old age and to continue my story with the years, I, an + old man of seventy, shall be found dreaming dreams just as impossible and + childish as those I am dreaming now. I shall be dreaming of some lovely + Maria who loves me, the toothless old man, as she might love a Mazeppa; of + some imbecile son who, through some extraordinary chance, has suddenly + become a minister of state; of my suddenly receiving a windfall of a + million of roubles. I am sure that there exists no human being, no human + age, to whom or to which that gracious, consolatory power of dreaming is + totally a stranger. Yet, save for the one general feature of magic and + impossibility, the dreams of each human being, of each age of man, have + their own distinguishing characteristics. At the period upon which I look + as having marked the close of my boyhood and the beginning of my youth, + four leading sentiments formed the basis of my dreams. The first of those + sentiments was love for HER—for an imaginary woman whom I always + pictured the same in my dreams, and whom I somehow expected to meet some + day and somewhere. This she of mine had a little of Sonetchka in her, a + little of Masha as Masha could look when she stood washing linen over the + clothes-tub, and a little of a certain woman with pearls round her fair + white neck whom I had once seen long, long ago at a theatre, in a box + below our own. My second sentiment was a craving for love. I wanted every + one to know me and to love me. I wanted to be able to utter my name—Nicola + Irtenieff—and at once to see every one thunderstruck at it, and come + crowding round me and thanking me for something or another, I hardly knew + what. My third sentiment was the expectation of some extraordinary, + glorious happiness that was impending—some happiness so strong and + assured as to verge upon ecstasy. Indeed, so firmly persuaded was I that + very, very soon some unexpected chance would suddenly make me the richest + and most famous man in the world that I lived in constant, tremulous + expectation of this magic good fortune befalling me. I was always thinking + to myself that “IT is beginning,” and that I should go on thereafter to + attain everything that a man could wish for. Consequently, I was for ever + hurrying from place to place, in the belief that “IT” must be “beginning” + just where I happened not to be. Lastly, my fourth and principal sentiment + of all was abhorrence of myself, mingled with regret—yet a regret so + blended with the certain expectation of happiness to which I have referred + that it had in it nothing of sorrow. It seemed to me that it would be so + easy and natural for me to tear myself away from my past and to remake it—to + forget all that had been, and to begin my life, with all its relations, + anew—that the past never troubled me, never clung to me at all. I + even found a certain pleasure in detesting the past, and in seeing it in a + darker light than the true one. This note of regret and of a curious + longing for perfection were the chief mental impressions which I gathered + from that new stage of my growth—impressions which imparted new + principles to my view of myself, of men, and of God’s world. O good and + consoling voice, which in later days, in sorrowful days when my soul + yielded silently to the sway of life’s falseness and depravity, so often + raised a sudden, bold protest against all iniquity, as well as mercilessly + exposed the past, commanded, nay, compelled, me to love only the pure + vista of the present, and promised me all that was fair and happy in the + future! O good and consoling voice! Surely the day will never come when + you are silent? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. OUR FAMILY CIRCLE + </h2> + <p> + PAPA was seldom at home that spring. Yet, whenever he was so, he seemed + extraordinarily cheerful as he either strummed his favourite pieces on the + piano or looked roguishly at us and made jokes about us all, not excluding + even Mimi. For instance, he would say that the Tsarevitch himself had seen + Mimi at the rink, and fallen so much in love with her that he had + presented a petition to the Synod for divorce; or else that I had been + granted an appointment as secretary to the Austrian ambassador—a + piece of news which he imparted to us with a perfectly grave face. Next, + he would frighten Katenka with some spiders (of which she was very much + afraid), engage in an animated conversation with our friends Dubkoff and + Nechludoff, and tell us and our guests, over and over again, his plans for + the year. Although these plans changed almost from day to day, and were + for ever contradicting one another, they seemed so attractive that we were + always glad to listen to them, and Lubotshka, in particular, would glue + her eyes to his face, so as not to lose a single word. One day his plan + would be that he should leave my brother and myself at the University, and + go and live with Lubotshka in Italy for two years. Next, the plan would be + that he should buy an estate on the south coast of the Crimea, and take us + for an annual visit there; next, that we should migrate en masse to St. + Petersburg; and so forth. Yet, in addition to this unusual cheerfulness of + his, another change had come over him of late—a change which greatly + surprised me. This was that he had had some fashionable clothes made—an + olive-coloured frockcoat, smart trousers with straps at the sides, and a + long wadded greatcoat which fitted him to perfection. Often, too, there + was a delightful smell of scent about him when he came home from a party—more + especially when he had been to see a lady of whom Mimi never spoke but + with a sigh and a face that seemed to say: “Poor orphans! How dreadful! It + is a good thing that SHE is gone now!” and so on, and so on. From Nicola + (for Papa never spoke to us of his gambling) I had learnt that he (Papa) + had been very fortunate in play that winter, and so had won an + extraordinary amount of money, all of which he had placed in the bank + after vowing that he would play no more that spring. Evidently, it was his + fear of being unable to resist again doing so that was rendering him + anxious to leave for the country as soon as possible. Indeed, he ended by + deciding not to wait until I had entered the University, but to take the + girls to Petrovskoe immediately after Easter, and to leave Woloda and + myself to follow them at a later season. + </p> + <p> + All that winter, until the opening of spring, Woloda had been inseparable + from Dubkoff, while at the same time the pair of them had cooled greatly + towards Dimitri. Their chief amusements (so I gathered from conversations + overheard) were continual drinking of champagne, sledge-driving past the + windows of a lady with whom both of them appeared to be in love, and + dancing with her—not at children’s parties, either, but at real + balls! It was this last fact which, despite our love for one another, + placed a vast gulf between Woloda and myself. We felt that the distance + between a boy still taking lessons under a tutor and a man who danced at + real, grown-up balls was too great to allow of their exchanging mutual + ideas. Katenka, too, seemed grown-up now, and read innumerable novels; so + that the idea that she would some day be getting married no longer seemed + to me a joke. Yet, though she and Woloda were thus grown-up, they never + made friends with one another, but, on the contrary, seemed to cherish a + mutual contempt. In general, when Katenka was at home alone, nothing but + novels amused her, and they but slightly; but as soon as ever a visitor of + the opposite sex called, she at once grew lively and amiable, and used her + eyes for saying things which I could not then understand. It was only + later, when she one day informed me in conversation that the only thing a + girl was allowed to indulge in was coquetry—coquetry of the eyes, I + mean—that I understood those strange contortions of her features + which to every one else had seemed a matter for no surprise at all. + Lubotshka also had begun to wear what was almost a long dress—a + dress which almost concealed her goose-shaped feet; yet she still remained + as ready a weeper as ever. She dreamed now of marrying, not a hussar, but + a singer or an instrumentalist, and accordingly applied herself to her + music with greater diligence than ever. St. Jerome, who knew that he was + going to remain with us only until my examinations were over, and so had + obtained for himself a new post in the family of some count or another, + now looked with contempt upon the members of our household. He stayed + indoors very little, took to smoking cigarettes (then all the rage), and + was for ever whistling lively tunes on the edge of a card. Mimi daily grew + more and more despondent, as though, now that we were beginning to grow + up, she looked for nothing good from any one or anything. + </p> + <p> + When, on the day of which I am speaking, I went in to luncheon I found + only Mimi, Katenka, Lubotshka, and St. Jerome in the dining-room. Papa was + away, and Woloda in his own room, doing some preparation work for his + examinations in company with a party of his comrades: wherefore he had + requested that lunch should be sent to him there. Of late, Mimi had + usually taken the head of the table, and as none of us had any respect for + her, luncheon had lost most of its refinement and charm. That is to say, + the meal was no longer what it had been in Mamma’s or our grandmother’s + time, namely, a kind of rite which brought all the family together at a + given hour and divided the day into two halves. We allowed ourselves to + come in as late as the second course, to drink wine in tumblers (St. + Jerome himself set us the example), to roll about on our chairs, to depart + without saying grace, and so on. In fact, luncheon had ceased to be a + family ceremony. In the old days at Petrovskoe, every one had been used to + wash and dress for the meal, and then to repair to the drawing-room as the + appointed hour (two o’clock) drew near, and pass the time of waiting in + lively conversation. Just as the clock in the servants’ hall was beginning + to whirr before striking the hour, Foka would enter with noiseless + footsteps, and, throwing his napkin over his arm and assuming a dignified, + rather severe expression, would say in loud, measured tones: “Luncheon is + ready!” Thereupon, with pleased, cheerful faces, we would form a + procession—the elders going first and the juniors following, and, + with much rustling of starched petticoats and subdued creaking of boots + and shoes—would proceed to the dining-room, where, still talking in + undertones, the company would seat themselves in their accustomed places. + Or, again, at Moscow, we would all of us be standing before the table + ready-laid in the hall, talking quietly among ourselves as we waited for + our grandmother, whom the butler, Gabriel, had gone to acquaint with the + fact that luncheon was ready. Suddenly the door would open, there would + come the faint swish of a dress and the sound of footsteps, and our + grandmother—dressed in a mob-cap trimmed with a quaint old lilac + bow, and wearing either a smile or a severe expression on her face + according as the state of her health inclined her—would issue from + her room. Gabriel would hasten to precede her to her arm-chair, the other + chairs would make a scraping sound, and, with a feeling as though a cold + shiver (the precursor of appetite) were running down one’s back, one would + seize upon one’s damp, starched napkin, nibble a morsel or two of bread, + and, rubbing one’s hands softly under the table, gaze with eager, radiant + impatience at the steaming plates of soup which the butler was beginning + to dispense in order of ranks and ages or according to the favour of our + grandmother. + </p> + <p> + On the present occasion, however, I was conscious of neither excitement + nor pleasure when I went in to luncheon. Even the mingled chatter of Mimi, + the girls, and St. Jerome about the horrible boots of our Russian tutor, + the pleated dresses worn by the young Princesses Kornakoff, and so forth + (chatter which at any other time would have filled me with a sincerity of + contempt which I should have been at no pains to conceal—at all + events so far as Lubotshka and Katenka were concerned), failed to shake + the benevolent frame of mind into which I had fallen. I was unusually + good-humoured that day, and listened to everything with a smile and a + studied air of kindness. Even when I asked for the kvas I did so politely, + while I lost not a moment in agreeing with St. Jerome when he told me that + it was undoubtedly more correct to say “Je peux” than “Je puis.” Yet, I + must confess to a certain disappointment at finding that no one paid any + particular attention to my politeness and good-humour. After luncheon, + Lubotshka showed me a paper on which she had written down a list of her + sins: upon which I observed that, although the idea was excellent so far + as it went, it would be still better for her to write down her sins on her + SOUL—“a very different matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Why is it ‘a very different matter’?” asked Lubotshka. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind: that is all right; you do not understand me,” and I went + upstairs to my room, telling St. Jerome that I was going to work, but in + reality purposing to occupy the hour and a half before confession time in + writing down a list of my daily tasks and duties which should last me all + my life, together with a statement of my life’s aim, and the rules by + which I meant unswervingly to be guided. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. MY RULES + </h2> + <p> + I TOOK some sheets of paper, and tried, first of all, to make a list of my + tasks and duties for the coming year. The paper needed ruling, but, as I + could not find the ruler, I had to use a Latin dictionary instead. The + result was that, when I had drawn the pen along the edge of the dictionary + and removed the latter, I found that, in place of a line, I had only made + an oblong smudge on the paper, since the dictionary was not long enough to + reach across it, and the pen had slipped round the soft, yielding corner + of the book. Thereupon I took another piece of paper, and, by carefully + manipulating the dictionary, contrived to rule what at least RESEMBLED + lines. Dividing my duties into three sections—my duties to myself, + my duties to my neighbour, and my duties to God—I started to indite + a list of the first of those sections, but they seemed to me so numerous, + and therefore requiring to be divided into so many species and + subdivisions, that I thought I had better first of all write down the + heading of “Rules of My Life” before proceeding to their detailed + inscription. Accordingly, I proceeded to write “Rules of My Life” on the + outside of the six sheets of paper which I had made into a sort of folio, + but the words came out in such a crooked and uneven scrawl that for long I + sat debating the question, “Shall I write them again?”—for long, sat + in agonised contemplation of the ragged handwriting and disfigured + title-page. Why was it that all the beauty and clarity which my soul then + contained came out so misshapenly on paper (as in life itself) just when I + was wishing to apply those qualities to what I was thinking at the moment? + </p> + <p> + “The priest is here, so please come downstairs and hear his directions,” + said Nicola as he entered. + </p> + <p> + Hurriedly concealing my folio under the table-cloth, I looked at myself in + the mirror, combed my hair upwards (I imagined this to give me a pensive + air), and descended to the divannaia, [Room with divans, or ante-room] + where the table stood covered with a cloth and had an ikon and candles + placed upon it. Papa entered just as I did, but by another door: whereupon + the priest—a grey-headed old monk with a severe, elderly face—blessed + him, and Papa kissed his small, squat, wizened hand. I did the same. + </p> + <p> + “Go and call Woldemar,” said Papa. “Where is he? Wait a minute, though. + Perhaps he is preparing for the Communion at the University?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he is with the Prince,” said Katenka, and glanced at Lubotshka. + Suddenly the latter blushed for some reason or another, and then frowned. + Finally, pretending that she was not well, she left the room, and I + followed her. In the drawing-room she halted, and began to pencil + something fresh on her paper of peccadilloes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what new sin have you gone and committed?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” she replied with another blush. All at once we heard Dimitri’s + voice raised in the hall as he took his leave of Woloda. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me you are always experiencing some new temptation,” said + Katenka, who had entered the room behind us, and now stood looking at + Lubotshka. + </p> + <p> + What was the matter with my sister I could not conceive, but she was now + so agitated that the tears were starting from her eyes. Finally her + confusion grew uncontrollable, and vented itself in rage against both + herself and Katenka, who appeared to be teasing her. + </p> + <p> + “Any one can see that you are a FOREIGNER!” she cried (nothing offended + Katenka so much as to be called by that term, which is why Lubotshka used + it). “Just because I have the secret of which you know,” she went on, with + anger ringing through her tone, “you purposely go and upset me! Please do + understand that it is no joking matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what she has gone and written on her paper, Nicolinka?” cried + Katenka, much infuriated by the term “foreigner.” “She has written down + that—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I never could have believed that you could be so cruel!” exclaimed + Lubotshka, now bursting into open sobbing as she moved away from us. “You + chose that moment on purpose! You spend your whole time in trying to make + me sin! I’ll never go to YOU again for sympathy and advice!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + With these and other disjointed impressions in my mind, I returned to the + divannaia. As soon as every one had reassembled, the priest rose and + prepared to read the prayer before confession. The instant that the + silence was broken by the stern, expressive voice of the monk as he + recited the prayer—and more especially when he addressed to us the + words: “Reveal thou all thy sins without shame, concealment, or + extenuation, and let thy soul be cleansed before God: for if thou + concealest aught, then great will be thy sin”—the same sensation of + reverent awe came over me as I had felt during the morning. I even took a + certain pleasure in recognising this condition of mine, and strove to + preserve it, not only by restraining all other thoughts from entering my + brain, but also by consciously exerting myself to feel no other sensation + than this same one of reverence. + </p> + <p> + Papa was the first to go to confession. He remained a long, long time in + the room which had belonged to our grandmother, and during that time the + rest of us kept silence in the divannaia, or only whispered to one another + on the subject of who should precede whom. At length, the voice of the + priest again reading the prayer sounded from the doorway, and then Papa’s + footsteps. The door creaked as he came out, coughing and holding one + shoulder higher than the other, in his usual way, and for the moment he + did not look at any of us. + </p> + <p> + “YOU go now, Luba,” he said presently, as he gave her cheek a mischievous + pinch. “Mind you tell him everything. You are my greatest sinner, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + Lubotshka went red and pale by turns, took her memorandum paper out of her + apron, replaced it, and finally moved away towards the doorway with her + head sunk between her shoulders as though she expected to receive a blow + upon it from above. She was not long gone, and when she returned her + shoulders were shaking with sobs. + </p> + <p> + At length—next after the excellent Katenka (who came out of the + doorway with a smile on her face)—my turn arrived. I entered the + dimly-lighted room with the same vague feeling of awe, the same conscious + eagerness to arouse that feeling more and more in my soul, that had + possessed me up to the present moment. The priest, standing in front of a + reading-desk, slowly turned his face to me. + </p> + <p> + I was not more than five minutes in the room, but came out from it happy + and (so I persuaded myself) entirely cleansed—a new, a morally + reborn individual. Despite the fact that the old surroundings of my life + now struck me as unfamiliar (even though the rooms, the furniture, and my + own figure—would to heavens that I could have changed my outer man + for the better in the same way that I believed myself to have changed my + inner I—were the same as before), I remained in that comfortable + attitude of mine until the very moment of bedtime. + </p> + <p> + Yet, no sooner had I begun to grow drowsy with the conning over of my sins + than in a flash I recollected a particularly shameful sin which I had + suppressed at confession time. Instantly the words of the prayer before + confession came back to my memory and began sounding in my ears. My peace + was gone for ever. “For if thou concealest aught, then great will be thy + sin.” Each time that the phrase recurred to me I saw myself a sinner for + whom no punishment was adequate. Long did I toss from side to side as I + considered my position, while expecting every moment to be visited with + the divine wrath—to be struck with sudden death, perhaps!—an + insupportable thought! Then suddenly the reassuring thought occurred to + me: “Why should I not drive out to the monastery when the morning comes, + and see the priest again, and make a second confession?” Thereafter I grew + calmer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE EXPEDITION TO THE MONASTERY + </h2> + <p> + Several times that night I woke in terror at the thought that I might be + oversleeping myself, and by six o’clock was out of bed, although the dawn + was hardly peeping in at the window. I put on my clothes and boots (all of + which were lying tumbled and unbrushed beside the bed, since Nicola, of + course had not been in yet to tidy them up), and, without a prayer said or + my face washed, emerged, for the first time in my life, into the street + ALONE. + </p> + <p> + Over the way, behind the green roof of a large building, the dim, cold + dawn was beginning to blush red. The keen frost of the spring morning + which had stiffened the pools and mud and made them crackle under my feet + now nipped my face and hands also. Not a cab was to be seen, though I had + counted upon one to make the journey out and home the quicker. Only a file + of waggons was rumbling along the Arbat Prospect, and a couple of + bricklayers talking noisily together as they strode along the pavement. + However, after walking a verst or so I began to meet men and women taking + baskets to market or going with empty barrels to fetch the day’s water + supply; until at length, at the cross streets near the Arbat Gate, where a + pieman had set up his stall and a baker was just opening his shop, I + espied an old cabman shaking himself after indulging in a nap on the box + of his be-scratched old blue-painted, hobble-de-hoy wreck of a drozhki. He + seemed barely awake as he asked twenty copecks as the fare to the + monastery and back, but came to himself a moment afterwards, just as I was + about to get in, and, touching up his horse with the spare end of the + reins, started to drive off and leave me. “My horse wants feeding,” he + growled, “I can’t take you, barin.[Sir]” + </p> + <p> + With some difficulty and a promise of FORTY copecks I persuaded him to + stop. He eyed me narrowly as he pulled up, but nevertheless said: “Very + well. Get in, barin.” I must confess that I had some qualms lest he should + drive me to a quiet corner somewhere, and then rob me, but I caught hold + of the collar of his ragged driving-coat, close to where his wrinkled neck + showed sadly lean above his hunched-up back, and climbed on to the + blue-painted, curved, rickety scat. As we set off along Vozdvizhenka + Street, I noticed that the back of the drozhki was covered with a strip of + the same greenish material as that of which his coat was made. For some + reason or another this reassured me, and I no longer felt nervous of being + taken to a quiet spot and robbed. + </p> + <p> + The sun had risen to a good height, and was gilding the cupolas of the + churches, when we arrived at the monastery. In the shade the frost had not + yet given, but in the open roadway muddy rivulets of water were coursing + along, and it was through fast-thawing mire that the horse went + clip-clopping his way. Alighting, and entering the monastery grounds, I + inquired of the first monk whom I met where I could find the priest whom I + was seeking. + </p> + <p> + “His cell is over there,” replied the monk as he stopped a moment and + pointed towards a little building up to which a flight of steps led. + </p> + <p> + “I respectfully thank you,” I said, and then fell to wondering what all + the monks (who at that moment began to come filing out of the church) must + be thinking of me as they glanced in my direction. I was neither a + grown-up nor a child, while my face was unwashed, my hair unbrushed, my + clothes tumbled, and my boots unblacked and muddy. To what class of + persons were the brethren assigning me—for they stared at me hard + enough? Nevertheless I proceeded in the direction which the young priest + had pointed out to me. + </p> + <p> + An old man with bushy grey eyebrows and a black cassock met me on the + narrow path to the cells, and asked me what I wanted. For a brief moment I + felt inclined to say “Nothing,” and then run back to the drozhki and drive + away home; but, for all its beetling brows, the face of the old man + inspired confidence, and I merely said that I wished to see the priest + (whom I named). + </p> + <p> + “Very well, young sir; I will take you to him,” said the old man as he + turned round. Clearly he had guessed my errand at a stroke. “The father is + at matins at this moment, but he will soon be back,” and, opening a door, + the old man led me through a neat hall and corridor, all lined with clean + matting, to a cell. + </p> + <p> + “Please to wait here,” he added, and then, with a kind, reassuring glance, + departed. + </p> + <p> + The little room in which I found myself was of the smallest possible + dimensions, but extremely neat and clean. Its furniture only consisted of + a small table (covered with a cloth, and placed between two equally small + casement-windows, in which stood two pots of geraniums), a stand of ikons, + with a lamp suspended in front of them, a bench, and two chairs. In one + corner hung a wall clock, with little flowers painted on its dial, and + brass weights to its chains, while upon two nails driven into a screen + (which, fastened to the ceiling with whitewashed pegs, probably concealed + the bed) hung a couple of cassocks. The windows looked out upon a + whitewashed wall, about two arshins distant, and in the space between them + there grew a small lilac-bush. + </p> + <p> + Not a sound penetrated from without, and in the stillness the measured, + friendly stroke of the clock’s pendulum seemed to beat quite loudly. The + instant that I found myself alone in this calm retreat all other thoughts + and recollections left my head as completely as though they had never been + there, and I subsided into an inexpressibly pleasing kind of torpor. The + rusty alpaca cassocks with their frayed linings, the worn black leather + bindings of the books with their metal clasps, the dull-green plants with + their carefully watered leaves and soil, and, above all, the abrupt, + regular beat of the pendulum, all spoke to me intimately of some new life + hitherto unknown to me—a life of unity and prayer, of calm, restful + happiness. + </p> + <p> + “The months, the years, may pass,” I thought to myself, “but he remains + alone—always at peace, always knowing that his conscience is pure + before God, that his prayer will be heard by Him.” For fully half an hour + I sat on that chair, trying not to move, not even to breathe loudly, for + fear I should mar the harmony of the sounds which were telling me so much, + and ever the pendulum continued to beat the same—now a little louder + to the right, now a little softer to the left. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE SECOND CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + Suddenly the sound of the priest’s footsteps roused me from this reverie. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning to you,” he said as he smoothed his grey hair with his hand. + “What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + I besought him to give me his blessing, and then kissed his small, wizened + hand with great fervour. After I had explained to him my errand he said + nothing, but moved away towards the ikons, and began to read the + exhortation: whereupon I overcame my shame, and told him all that was in + my heart. Finally he laid his hands upon my head, and pronounced in his + even, resonant voice the words: “My son, may the blessing of Our Heavenly + Father be upon thee, and may He always preserve thee in faithfulness, + loving-kindness, and meekness. Amen.” + </p> + <p> + I was entirely happy. Tears of joy coursed down my face as I kissed the + hem of his cassock and then raised my head again. The face of the priest + expressed perfect tranquillity. So keenly did I feel the joy of + reconciliation that, fearing in any way to dispel it, I took hasty leave + of him, and, without looking to one side of me or the other (in order that + my attention might not be distracted), left the grounds and re-entered the + rickety, battered drozhki. Yet the joltings of the vehicle and the variety + of objects which flitted past my eyes soon dissipated that feeling, and I + became filled with nothing but the idea that the priest must have thought + me the finest-spirited young man he had ever met, or ever would meet, in + the whole of his life. Indeed, I reflected, there could not be many such + as myself—of that I felt sure, and the conviction produced in me the + kind of complacency which craves for self-communication to another. I had + a great desire to unbosom myself to some one, and as there was no one else + to speak to, I addressed myself to the cabman. + </p> + <p> + “Was I very long gone?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “No, not very long,” he replied. He seemed to have grown more cheerful + under the influence of the sunshine. “Yet now it is a good while past my + horse’s feeding-time. You see, I am a night cabman.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I only seemed to myself to be about a minute,” I went on. “Do you + know what I went there for?” I added, changing my seat to the well of the + drozhki, so as to be nearer the driver. + </p> + <p> + “What business is it of mine? I drive a fare where he tells me to go,” he + replied. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but, all the same, what do you think I went there for?” I persisted. + </p> + <p> + “I expect some one you know is going to be buried there, so you went to + see about a plot for the grave.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, my friend. Still, DO you know what I went there for?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course I cannot tell, barin,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + His voice seemed to me so kind that I decided to edify him by relating the + cause of my expedition, and even telling him of the feeling which I had + experienced. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you?” I said. “Well, you see,”—and I told him all, as + well as inflicted upon him a description of my fine sentiments. To this + day I blush at the recollection. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said the cabman non-committally, and for a long while + afterwards he remained silent and motionless, except that at intervals he + adjusted the skirt of his coat each time that it was jerked from beneath + his leg by the joltings of his huge boot on the drozhki’s step. I felt + sure that he must be thinking of me even as the priest had done. That is + to say, that he must be thinking that no such fine-spirited young man + existed in the world as I. Suddenly he shot at me: + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, barin. You ought to keep God’s affairs to yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Those affairs of yours—they are God’s business,” he repeated, + mumbling the words with his toothless lips. + </p> + <p> + “No, he has not understood me,” I thought to myself, and said no more to + him till we reached home. + </p> + <p> + Although it was not my original sense of reconciliation and reverence, but + only a sort of complacency at having experienced such a sense, that lasted + in me during the drive home (and that, too, despite the distraction of the + crowds of people who now thronged the sunlit streets in every direction), + I had no sooner reached home than even my spurious complacency was + shattered, for I found that I had not the forty copecks wherewith to pay + the cabman! To the butler, Gabriel, I already owed a small debt, and he + refused to lend me any more. Seeing me twice run across the courtyard in + quest of the money, the cabman must have divined the reason, for, leaping + from his drozhki, he—notwithstanding that he had seemed so kind—began + to bawl aloud (with an evident desire to punch my head) that people who do + not pay for their cab-rides are swindlers. + </p> + <p> + None of my family were yet out of bed, so that, except for the servants, + there was no one from whom to borrow the forty copecks. At length, on my + most sacred, sacred word of honour to repay (a word to which, as I could + see from his face, he did not altogether trust), Basil so far yielded to + his fondness for me and his remembrance of the many services I had done + him as to pay the cabman. Thus all my beautiful feelings ended in smoke. + When I went upstairs to dress for church and go to Communion with the rest + I found that my new clothes had not yet come home, and so I could not wear + them. Then I sinned headlong. Donning my other suit, I went to Communion + in a sad state of mental perturbation, and filled with complete distrust + of all my finer impulses. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. HOW I PREPARED MYSELF FOR THE EXAMINATIONS + </h2> + <p> + On the Thursday in Easter week Papa, my sister, Katenka, and Mimi went + away into the country, and no one remained in my grandmother’s great house + but Woloda, St. Jerome, and myself. The frame of mind which I had + experienced on the day of my confession and during my subsequent + expedition to the monastery had now completely passed away, and left + behind it only a dim, though pleasing, memory which daily became more and + more submerged by the impressions of this emancipated existence. + </p> + <p> + The folio endorsed “Rules of My Life” lay concealed beneath a pile of + school-books. Although the idea of the possibility of framing rules, for + every occasion in my life and always letting myself be guided by them + still pleased me (since it appeared an idea at once simple and + magnificent, and I was determined to make practical application of it), I + seemed somehow to have forgotten to put it into practice at once, and kept + deferring doing so until such and such a moment. At the same time, I took + pleasure in the thought that every idea which now entered my head could be + allotted precisely to one or other of my three sections of tasks and + duties—those for or to God, those for or to my neighbour, and those + for or to myself. “I can always refer everything to them,” I said to + myself, “as well as the many, many other ideas which occur to me on one + subject or another.” Yet at this period I often asked myself, “Was I + better and more truthful when I only believed in the power of the human + intellect, or am I more so now, when I am losing the faculty of developing + that power, and am in doubt both as to its potency and as to its + importance?” To this I could return no positive answer. + </p> + <p> + The sense of freedom, combined with the spring-like feeling of vague + expectation to which I have referred already, so unsettled me that I could + not keep myself in hand—could make none but the sorriest of + preparations for my University ordeal. Thus I was busy in the schoolroom + one morning, and fully aware that I must work hard, seeing that to-morrow + was the day of my examination in a subject of which I had the two whole + questions still to read up; yet no sooner had a breath of spring come + wafted through the window than I felt as though there were something quite + different that I wished to recall to my memory. My hands laid down my + book, my feet began to move of themselves, and to set me walking up and + down the room, and my head felt as though some one had suddenly touched in + it a little spring and set some machine in motion—so easily and + swiftly and naturally did all sorts of pleasing fancies of which I could + catch no more than the radiancy begin coursing through it. Thus one hour, + two hours, elapsed unperceived. Even if I sat down determinedly to my + book, and managed to concentrate my whole attention upon what I was + reading, suddenly there would sound in the corridor the footsteps of a + woman and the rustle of her dress. Instantly everything would escape my + mind, and I would find it impossible to remain still any longer, however + much I knew that the woman could only be either Gasha or my grandmother’s + old sewing-maid moving about in the corridor. “Yet suppose it should be + SHE all at once?” I would say to myself. “Suppose IT is beginning now, and + I were to lose it?” and, darting out into the corridor, I would find, each + time, that it was only Gasha. Yet for long enough afterwards I could not + recall my attention to my studies. A little spring had been touched in my + head, and a strange mental ferment started afresh. Again, that evening I + was sitting alone beside a tallow candle in my room. Suddenly I looked up + for a moment—to snuff the candle, or to straighten myself in my + chair—and at once became aware of nothing but the darkness in the + corners and the blank of the open doorway. Then, I also became conscious + how still the house was, and felt as though I could do nothing else than + go on listening to that stillness, and gazing into the black square of + that open doorway, and gradually sinking into a brown study as I sat there + without moving. At intervals, however, I would get up, and go downstairs, + and begin wandering through the empty rooms. Once I sat a long while in + the small drawing-room as I listened to Gasha playing “The Nightingale” + (with two fingers) on the piano in the large drawing-room, where a + solitary candle burned. Later, when the moon was bright, I felt obliged to + get out of bed and to lean out of the window, so that I might gaze into + the garden, and at the lighted roof of the Shaposnikoff mansion, the + straight tower of our parish church, and the dark shadows of the fence and + the lilac-bush where they lay black upon the path. So long did I remain + there that, when I at length returned to bed, it was ten o’clock in the + morning before I could open my eyes again. + </p> + <p> + In short, had it not been for the tutors who came to give me lessons, as + well as for St. Jerome (who at intervals, and very grudgingly, applied a + spur to my self-conceit) and, most of all, for the desire to figure as + “clever” in the eyes of my friend Nechludoff (who looked upon distinctions + in University examinations as a matter of first-rate importance)—had + it not been for all these things, I say, the spring and my new freedom + would have combined to make me forget everything I had ever learnt, and so + to go through the examinations to no purpose whatsoever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. THE EXAMINATION IN HISTORY + </h2> + <p> + ON the 16th of April I entered, for the first time, and under the wing of + St. Jerome, the great hall of the University. I had driven there with St. + Jerome in our smart phaeton and wearing the first frockcoat of my life, + while the whole of my other clothes—even down to my socks and linen—were + new and of a grander sort. When a Swiss waiter relieved me of my + greatcoat, and I stood before him in all the beauty of my attire, I felt + almost sorry to dazzle him so. Yet I had no sooner entered the bright, + carpeted, crowded hall, and caught sight of hundreds of other young men in + gymnasium [The Russian gymnasium = the English grammar or secondary + school.] uniforms or frockcoats (of whom but a few threw me an indifferent + glance), as well as, at the far end, of some solemn-looking professors who + were seated on chairs or walking carelessly about among some tables, than + I at once became disabused of the notion that I should attract the general + attention, while the expression of my face, which at home, and even in the + vestibule of the University buildings, had denoted only a kind of vague + regret that I should have to present so important and distinguished an + appearance, became exchanged for an expression of the most acute + nervousness and dejection. However, I soon picked up again when I + perceived sitting at one of the desks a very badly, untidily dressed + gentleman who, though not really old, was almost entirely grey. He was + occupying a seat quite at the back of the hall and a little apart from the + rest, so I hastened to sit down beside him, and then fell to looking at + the candidates for examination, and to forming conclusions about them. + Many different figures and faces were there to be seen there; yet, in my + opinion, they all seemed to divide themselves into three classes. First of + all, there were youths like myself, attending for examination in the + company of their parents or tutors. Among such I could see the youngest + Iwin (accompanied by Frost) and Ilinka Grap (accompanied by his old + father). All youths of this class wore the early beginnings of beards, + sported prominent linen, sat quietly in their places, and never opened the + books and notebooks which they had brought with them, but gazed at the + professors and examination tables with ill-concealed nervousness. The + second class of candidates were young men in gymnasium uniforms. Several + of them had attained to the dignity of shaving, and most of them knew one + another. They talked loudly, called the professors by their names and + surnames, occupied themselves in getting their subjects ready, exchanged + notebooks, climbed over desks, fetched themselves pies and sandwiches from + the vestibule, and ate them then and there merely lowering their heads to + the level of a desk for propriety’s sake. Lastly, the third class of + candidates (which seemed a small one) consisted of oldish men—some + of them in frock coats, but the majority in jackets, and with no linen to + be seen. These preserved a serious demeanour, sat by themselves, and had a + very dingy look. The man who had afforded me consolation by being worse + dressed than myself belonged to this class. Leaning forward upon his + elbows, and running his fingers through his grey, dishevelled hair as he + read some book or another, he had thrown me only a momentary glance—and + that not a very friendly one—from a pair of glittering eyes. Then, + as I sat down, he had frowned grimly, and stuck a shiny elbow out to + prevent me from coming any nearer. On the other hand, the gymnasium men + were over-sociable, and I felt rather afraid of their proximity. One of + them did not hesitate to thrust a book into my hands, saying, “Give that + to that fellow over there, will you?” while another of them exclaimed as + he pushed past me, “By your leave, young fellow!” and a third made use of + my shoulder as a prop when he wanted to scramble over a desk. All this + seemed to me a little rough and unpleasant, for I looked upon myself as + immensely superior to such fellows, and considered that they ought not to + treat me with such familiarity. At length, the names began to be called + out. The gymnasium men walked out boldly, answered their questions + (apparently) well, and came back looking cheerful. My own class of + candidates were much more diffident, as well as appeared to answer worse. + Of the oldish men, some answered well, and some very poorly. When the name + “Semenoff” was called out my neighbour with the grey hair and glittering + eyes jostled me roughly, stepped over my legs, and went up to one of the + examiners’ tables. It was plain from the aspect of the professors that he + answered well and with assurance, yet, on returning to his place, he did + not wait to see where he was placed on the list, but quietly collected his + notebooks and departed. Several times I shuddered at the sound of the + voice calling out the names, but my turn did not come in exact + alphabetical order, though already names had begun to be called beginning + with “I.” + </p> + <p> + “Ikonin and Tenieff!” suddenly shouted some one from the professors’ end + of the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Ikonin! You are being called,” said a tall, red-faced gymnasium + student near me. “But who is this BARtenieff or MORtenieff or somebody? I + don’t know him.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be you,” whispered St. Jerome loudly in my ear. + </p> + <p> + “MY name is IRtenieff,” I said to the red-faced student. “Do you think + that was the name they were calling out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Why on earth don’t you go up?” he replied. “Lord, what a dandy!” he + added under his breath, yet not so quietly but that I failed to hear the + words as they came wafted to me from below the desk. In front of me walked + Ikonin—a tall young man of about twenty-five, who was one of those + whom I had classed as oldish men. He wore a tight brown frockcoat and a + blue satin tie, and had wisps of flaxen hair carefully brushed over his + collar in the peasant style. His appearance had already caught my + attention when we were sitting among the desks, and had given me an + impression that he was not bad-looking. Also I had noticed that he was + very talkative. Yet what struck me most about his physiognomy was a tuft, + of queer red hairs which he had under his chin, as well as, still more, a + strange habit of continually unbuttoning his waistcoat and scratching his + chest under his shirt. + </p> + <p> + Behind the table to which we were summoned sat three Professors, none of + whom acknowledged our salutations. A youngish professor was shuffling a + bundle of tickets like a pack of cards; another one, with a star on his + frockcoat, was gazing hard at a gymnasium student, who was repeating + something at great speed about Charles the Great, and adding to each of + his sentences the word nakonetz [= the English colloquialism “you know.”] + while a third one—an old man in spectacles—proceeded to bend + his head down as we approached, and, peering at us through his glasses, + pointed silently to the tickets. I felt his glance go over both myself and + Ikonin, and also felt sure that something about us had displeased him + (perhaps it was Ikonin’s red hairs), for, after taking another look at the + pair of us, he motioned impatiently to us to be quick in taking our + tickets. I felt vexed and offended—firstly, because none of the + professors had responded to our bows, and, secondly, because they + evidently coupled me with Ikonin under the one denomination of + “candidates,” and so were condemning me in advance on account of Ikonin’s + red hairs. I took my ticket boldly and made ready to answer, but the + professor’s eye passed over my head and alighted upon Ikonin. Accordingly, + I occupied myself in reading my ticket. The questions printed on it were + all familiar to me, so, as I silently awaited my turn, I gazed at what was + passing near me, Ikonin seemed in no way diffident—rather the + reverse, for, in reaching for his ticket, he threw his body half-way + across the table. Then he gave his long hair a shake, and rapidly conned + over what was written on his ticket. I think he had just opened his mouth + to answer when the professor with the star dismissed the gymnasium student + with a word of commendation, and then turned and looked at Ikonin. At once + the latter seemed taken back, and stopped short. For about two minutes + there was a dead silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said the professor in the spectacles. + </p> + <p> + Once more Ikonin opened his mouth, and once more remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “Come! You are not the only one to be examined. Do you mean to answer or + do you not?” said the youngish professor, but Ikonin did not even look at + him. He was gazing fixedly at his ticket and uttered not a single word. + The professor in the spectacles scanned him through his glasses, then over + them, then without them (for, indeed, he had time to take them off, to + wipe their lenses carefully, and to replace them). Still not a word from + Ikonin. All at once, however, a smile spread itself over his face, and he + gave his long hair another shake. Next he reached across the table, laid + down his ticket, looked at each of the professors in turn and then at + myself, and finally, wheeling round on his heels, made a gesture with his + hand and returned to the desks. The professors stared blankly at one + another. + </p> + <p> + “Bless the fellow!” said the youngish professor. “What an original!” + </p> + <p> + It was now my turn to move towards the table, but the professors went on + talking in undertones among themselves, as though they were unaware of my + presence. At the moment, I felt firmly persuaded that the three of them + were engrossed solely with the question of whether I should merely PASS + the examination or whether I should pass it WELL, and that it was only + swagger which made them pretend that they did not care either way, and + behave as though they had not seen me. + </p> + <p> + When at length the professor in the spectacles turned to me with an air of + indifference, and invited me to answer, I felt hurt, as I looked at him, + to think that he should have so undeceived me: wherefore I answered + brokenly at first. In time, however, things came easier to my tongue, and, + inasmuch as all the questions bore upon Russian history (which I knew + thoroughly), I ended with eclat, and even went so far, in my desire to + convince the professors that I was not Ikonin and that they must not in + anyway confound me with him, as to offer to draw a second ticket. The + professor in the spectacles, however, merely nodded his head, said “That + will do,” and marked something in his register. On returning to the desks, + I at once learnt from the gymnasium men (who somehow seemed to know + everything) that I had been placed fifth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. MY EXAMINATION IN MATHEMATICS + </h2> + <p> + AT the subsequent examinations, I made several new acquaintances in + addition to the Graps (whom I considered unworthy of my notice) and Iwin + (who for some reason or other avoided me). With some of these new friends + I grew quite intimate, and even Ikonin plucked up sufficient courage to + inform me, when we next met, that he would have to undergo re-examination + in history—the reason for his failure this time being that the + professor of that faculty had never forgiven him for last year’s + examination, and had, indeed, “almost killed” him for it. Semenoff (who + was destined for the same faculty as myself—the faculty of + mathematics) avoided every one up to the very close of the examinations. + Always leaning forward upon his elbows and running his fingers through his + grey hair, he sat silent and alone. Nevertheless, when called up for + examination in mathematics (he had no companion to accompany him), he came + out second. The first place was taken by a student from the first + gymnasium—a tall, dark, lanky, pale-faced fellow who wore a black + folded cravat and had his cheeks and forehead dotted all over with + pimples. His hands were shapely and slender, but their nails were so + bitten to the quick that the finger-ends looked as though they had been + tied round with strips of thread. All this seemed to me splendid, and + wholly becoming to a student of the first gymnasium. He spoke to every + one, and we all made friends with him. To me in particular his walk, his + every movement, his lips, his dark eyes, all seemed to have in them + something extraordinary and magnetic. + </p> + <p> + On the day of the mathematical examination I arrived earlier than usual at + the hall. I knew the syllabus well, yet there were two questions in the + algebra which my tutor had managed to pass over, and which were therefore + quite unknown to me. If I remember rightly, they were the Theory of + Combinations and Newton’s Binomial. I seated myself on one of the back + benches and pored over the two questions, but, inasmuch as I was not + accustomed to working in a noisy room, and had even less time for + preparation than I had anticipated, I soon found it difficult to take in + all that I was reading. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is. This way, Nechludoff,” said Woloda’s familiar voice behind + me. + </p> + <p> + I turned and saw my brother and Dimitri—their gowns unbuttoned, and + their hands waving a greeting to me—threading their way through the + desks. A moment’s glance would have sufficed to show any one that they + were second-course students—persons to whom the University was as a + second home. The mere look of their open gowns expressed at once disdain + for the “mere candidate” and a knowledge that the “mere candidate’s” soul + was filled with envy and admiration of them. I was charmed to think that + every one near me could now see that I knew two real second-course + students: wherefore I hastened to meet them half-way. + </p> + <p> + Woloda, of course, could not help vaunting his superiority a little. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, you smug!” he said. “Haven’t you been examined yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what are you reading? Aren’t you sufficiently primed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, except in two questions. I don’t understand them at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, what?”—and Woloda straightway began to expound to me Newton’s + Binomial, but so rapidly and unintelligibly that, suddenly reading in my + eyes certain misgivings as to the soundness of his knowledge, he glanced + also at Dimitri’s face. Clearly, he saw the same misgivings there, for he + blushed hotly, though still continuing his involved explanations. + </p> + <p> + “No; hold on, Woloda, and let me try and do it,” put in Dimitri at length, + with a glance at the professors’ corner as he seated himself beside me. + </p> + <p> + I could see that my friend was in the best of humours. This was always the + case with him when he was satisfied with himself, and was one of the + things in him which I liked best. Inasmuch as he knew mathematics well and + could speak clearly, he hammered the question so thoroughly into my head + that I can remember it to this day. Hardly had he finished when St. Jerome + said to me in a loud whisper, “A vous, Nicolas,” and I followed Ikonin out + from among the desks without having had an opportunity of going through + the OTHER question of which I was ignorant. At the table which we now + approached were seated two professors, while before the blackboard stood a + gymnasium student, who was working some formula aloud, and knocking bits + off the end of the chalk with his too vigorous strokes. He even continued + writing after one of the Professors had said to him “Enough!” and bidden + us draw our tickets. “Suppose I get the Theory of Combinations?” I thought + to myself as my tremulous fingers took a ticket from among a bundle + wrapped in torn paper. Ikonin, for his part, reached across the table with + the same assurance, and the same sidelong movement of his whole body, as + he had done at the previous examination. Taking the topmost ticket without + troubling to make further selection, he just glanced at it, and then + frowned angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I always draw this kind of thing,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + I looked at mine. Horrors! It was the Theory of Combinations! + </p> + <p> + “What have you got?” whispered Ikonin at this point. + </p> + <p> + I showed him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Will you make an exchange, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Besides, it would be all the same for me if I did,” he contrived to + whisper just as the professor called us up to the blackboard. “I don’t + feel up to anything to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then everything is lost!” I thought to myself. Instead of the brilliant + result which I had anticipated I should be for ever covered with shame—more + so even than Ikonin! Suddenly, under the very eyes of the professor, + Ikonin turned to me, snatched my ticket out of my hands, and handed me his + own. I looked at his ticket. It was Newton’s Binomial! + </p> + <p> + The professor was a youngish man, with a pleasant, clever expression of + face—an effect chiefly due to the prominence of the lower part of + his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “What? Are you exchanging tickets, gentlemen?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No. He only gave me his to look at, professor,” answered Ikonin—and, + sure enough, the word “professor” was the last word that he uttered there. + Once again, he stepped backwards towards me from the table, once again he + looked at each of the professors in turn and then at myself, once again he + smiled faintly, and once again he shrugged his shoulders as much as to + say, “It is no use, my good sirs.” Then he returned to the desks. + Subsequently, I learnt that this was the third year he had vainly + attempted to matriculate. + </p> + <p> + I answered my question well, for I had just read it up; and the professor, + kindly informing me that I had done even better than was required, placed + me fifth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. MY EXAMINATION IN LATIN + </h2> + <p> + All went well until my examination in Latin. So far, a gymnasium student + stood first on the list, Semenoff second, and myself third. On the + strength of it I had begun to swagger a little, and to think that, for all + my youth, I was not to be despised. + </p> + <p> + From the first day of the examinations, I had heard every one speak with + awe of the Professor of Latin, who appeared to be some sort of a wild + beast who battened on the financial ruin of young men (of those, that is + to say, who paid their own fees) and spoke only in the Greek and Latin + tongues. However, St. Jerome, who had coached me in Latin, spoke + encouragingly, and I myself thought that, since I could translate Cicero + and certain parts of Horace without the aid of a lexicon, I should do no + worse than the rest. Yet things proved otherwise. All the morning the air + had been full of rumours concerning the tribulations of candidates who had + gone up before me: rumours of how one young fellow had been accorded a + nought, another one a single mark only, a third one greeted with abuse and + threatened with expulsion, and so forth. Only Semenoff and the first + gymnasium student had, as usual, gone up quietly, and returned to their + seats with five marks credited to their names. Already I felt a prescience + of disaster when Ikonin and myself found ourselves summoned to the little + table at which the terrible professor sat in solitary grandeur. + </p> + <p> + The terrible professor turned out to be a little thin, bilious-looking man + with hair long and greasy and a face expressive of extraordinary + sullenness. Handing Ikonin a copy of Cicero’s Orations, he bid him + translate. To my great astonishment Ikonin not only read off some of the + Latin, but even managed to construe a few lines to the professor’s + prompting. At the same time, conscious of my superiority over such a + feeble companion, I could not help smiling a little, and even looking + rather contemptuous, when it came to a question of analysis, and Ikonin, + as on previous occasions, plunged into a silence which promised never to + end. I had hoped to please the professor by that knowing, slightly + sarcastic smile of mine, but, as a matter of fact, I contrived to do quite + the contrary. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently you know better than he, since you are laughing,” he said to me + in bad Russian. “Well, we shall see. Tell me the answer, then.” + </p> + <p> + Later I learnt that the professor was Ikonin’s guardian, and that Ikonin + actually lived with him. I lost no time in answering the question in + syntax which had been put to Ikonin, but the professor only pulled a long + face and turned away from me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, your turn will come presently, and then we shall see how much you + know,” he remarked, without looking at me, but proceeding to explain to + Ikonin the point on which he had questioned him. + </p> + <p> + “That will do,” he added, and I saw him put down four marks to Ikonin in + his register. “Come!” I thought to myself. “He cannot be so strict after + all.” + </p> + <p> + When Ikonin had taken his departure the professor spent fully five minutes—five + minutes which seemed to me five hours—in setting his books and + tickets in order, in blowing his nose, in adjusting and sprawling about on + his chair, in gazing down the hall, and in looking here, there, and + everywhere—in doing everything, in fact, except once letting his eye + rest upon me. Yet even that amount of dissimulation did not seem to + satisfy him, for he next opened a book, and pretended to read it, for all + the world as though I were not there at all. I moved a little nearer him, + and gave a cough. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! You too, of course! Well, translate me something,” he remarked, + handing me a book of some kind. “But no; you had better take this,” and, + turning over the leaves of a Horace, he indicated to me a passage which I + should never have imagined possible of translation. + </p> + <p> + “I have not prepared this,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Then you only wish to answer things which you have got by heart, do + you? Indeed? No, no; translate me that.” + </p> + <p> + I started to grope for the meaning of the passage, but each questioning + look which I threw at the professor was met by a shake of the head, a + profound sigh, and an exclamation of “No, no!” Finally he banged the book + to with such a snap that he caught his finger between the covers. Angrily + releasing it, he handed me a ticket containing questions in grammar, and, + flinging himself back in his chair, maintained a menacing silence. I + should have tried to answer the questions had not the expression of his + face so clogged my tongue that nothing seemed to come from it right. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! That’s not it at all!” he suddenly exclaimed in his horrible + accent as he altered his posture to one of leaning forward upon the table + and playing with the gold signet-ring which was nearly slipping from the + little finger of his left hand. “That is not the way to prepare for + serious study, my good sir. Fellows like yourself think that, once they + have a gown and a blue collar to their backs, they have reached the summit + of all things and become students. No, no, my dear sir. A subject needs to + be studied FUNDAMENTALLY,” and so on, and so on. + </p> + <p> + During this speech (which was uttered with a clipped sort of intonation) I + went on staring dully at his lowered eyelids. Beginning with a fear lest I + should lose my place as third on the list, I went on to fear lest I should + pass at all. Next, these feelings became reinforced by a sense of + injustice, injured self-respect, and unmerited humiliation, while the + contempt which I felt for the professor as some one not quite (according + to my ideas) “comme il faut”—a fact which I deduced from the + shortness, strength, and roundness of his nails—flared up in me more + and more and turned all my other feelings to sheer animosity. Happening, + presently, to glance at me, and to note my quivering lips and tear-filled + eyes, he seemed to interpret my agitation as a desire to be accorded my + marks and dismissed: wherefore, with an air of relenting, he said (in the + presence of another professor who had just approached): + </p> + <p> + “Very well; I will accord you a ‘pass’” (which signified two marks), + “although you do not deserve it. I do so simply out of consideration for + your youth, and in the hope that, when you begin your University career, + you will learn to be less light-minded.” + </p> + <p> + The concluding phrase, uttered in the hearing of the other professor (who + at once turned his eyes upon me, as though remarking, “There! You see, + young man!”) completed my discomfiture. For a moment, a mist swam before + my eyes—a mist in which the terrible professor seemed to be far + away, as he sat at his table while for an instant a wild idea danced + through my brain. “What if I DID do such a thing?” I thought to myself. + “What would come of it?” However, I did not do the thing in question, but, + on the contrary, made a bow of peculiar reverence to each of the + professors, and with a slight smile on my face—presumably the same + smile as that with which I had derided Ikonin—turned away from the + table. + </p> + <p> + This piece of unfairness affected me so powerfully at the time that, had I + been a free agent, I should have attended for no more examinations. My + ambition was gone (since now I could not possibly be third), and I + therefore let the other examinations pass without any exertion, or even + agitation, on my part. In the general list I still stood fourth, but that + failed to interest me, since I had reasoned things out to myself, and come + to the conclusion that to try for first place was stupid—even “bad + form:” that, in fact, it was better to pass neither very well nor very + badly, as Woloda had done. This attitude I decided to maintain throughout + the whole of my University career, notwithstanding that it was the first + point on which my opinion had differed from that of my friend Dimitri. + </p> + <p> + Yet, to tell the truth, my thoughts were already turning towards a + uniform, a “mortar-board,” and the possession of a drozhki of my own, a + room of my own, and, above all, freedom of my own. And certainly the + prospect had its charm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. I BECOME GROWN-UP + </h2> + <p> + When, on May 8th, I returned home from the final, the divinity, + examination, I found my acquaintance, the foreman from Rozonoff’s, + awaiting me. He had called once before to fit me for my gown, as well as + for a tunic of glossy black cloth (the lapels of which were, on that + occasion, only sketched in chalk), but to-day he had come to bring me the + clothes in their finished state, with their gilt buttons wrapped in tissue + paper. + </p> + <p> + Donning the garments, and finding them splendid (notwithstanding that St. + Jerome assured me that the back of the tunic wrinkled badly), I went + downstairs with a complacent smile which I was powerless to banish from my + face, and sought Woloda, trying the while to affect unconsciousness of the + admiring looks of the servants, who came darting out of the hall and + corridor to gaze upon me with ravished eyes. Gabriel, the butler, overtook + me in the salle, and, after congratulating me with much empressement, + handed me, according to instructions from my father, four bank-notes, as + well as informed me that Papa had also given orders that, from that day + forth, the groom Kuzma, the phaeton, and the bay horse Krassavchik were to + be entirely at my disposal. I was so overjoyed at this not altogether + expected good-fortune that I could no longer feign indifference in + Gabriel’s presence, but, flustered and panting, said the first thing which + came into my head (“Krassavchik is a splendid trotter,” I think it was). + Then, catching sight of the various heads protruding from the doors of the + hall and corridor, I felt that I could bear no more, and set off running + at full speed across the salle, dressed as I was in the new tunic, with + its shining gilt buttons. Just as I burst into Woloda’s room, I heard + behind me the voices of Dubkoff and Nechludoff, who had come to + congratulate me, as well as to propose a dinner somewhere and the drinking + of much champagne in honour of my matriculation. Dimitri informed me that, + though he did not care for champagne, he would nevertheless join us that + evening and drink my health, while Dubkoff remarked that I looked almost + like a colonel, and Woloda omitted to congratulate me at all, merely + saying in an acid way that he supposed we should now—i.e. in two + days time—be off into the country. The truth was that Woloda, though + pleased at my matriculation, did not altogether like my becoming as + grown-up as himself. St. Jerome, who also joined us at this moment, said + in a very pompous manner that his duties were now ended, and that, + although he did not know whether they had been well done or ill, at least + he had done his best, and must depart to-morrow to his Count’s. In + replying to their various remarks I could feel, in spite of myself, a + pleased, agreeable, faintly self-sufficient smile playing over my + countenance, as well as could remark that that smile, communicated itself + to those to whom I was speaking. + </p> + <p> + So here was I without a tutor, yet with my own private drozhki, my name + printed on the list of students, a sword and belt of my own, and a chance + of an occasional salute from officials! In short, I was grownup and, I + suppose, happy. + </p> + <p> + Finally, we arranged to go out and dine at five o’clock, but since Woloda + presently went off to Dubkoff’s, and Dimitri disappeared in his usual + fashion (saying that there was something he MUST do before dinner), I was + left with two whole hours still at my disposal. For a time I walked + through the rooms of the house, and looked at myself in all the mirrors—firstly + with the tunic buttoned, then with it unbuttoned, and lastly with only the + top button fastened. Each time it looked splendid. Eventually, though + anxious not to show any excess of delight, I found myself unable to + refrain from crossing over to the coach-house and stables to gaze at + Krassovchik, Kuzma, and the drozhki. Then I returned and once more began + my tour of the rooms, where I looked at myself in all the mirrors as + before, and counted my money over in my pocket—my face smiling + happily the while. Yet not an hour had elapsed before I began to feel + slightly ennuye—to feel a shade of regret that no one was present to + see me in my splendid position. I began to long for life and movement, and + so sent out orders for the drozhki to be got ready, since I had made up my + mind to drive to the Kuznetski Bridge and make some purchases. + </p> + <p> + In this connection I recalled how, after matriculating, Woloda had gone + and bought himself a lithograph of horses by Victor Adam and some pipes + and tobacco: wherefore I felt that I too must do the same. Amid glances + showered upon me from every side, and with the sunlight reflected from my + buttons, cap-badge, and sword, I drove to the Kuznetski Bridge, where, + halting at a Picture shop, I entered it with my eyes looking to every + side. It was not precisely horses by Adam which I meant to buy, since I + did not wish to be accused of too closely imitating Woloda; wherefore, out + of shame for causing the obsequious shopmen such agitation as I appeared + to do, I made a hasty selection, and pitched upon a water-colour of a + woman’s head which I saw displayed in the window—price twenty + roubles. Yet no sooner had I paid the twenty roubles over the counter than + my heart smote me for having put two such beautifully dressed + shop-assistants to so much trouble for such a trifle. Moreover, I fancied + that they were regarding me with some disdain. Accordingly, in my desire + to show them what manner of man I was, I turned my attention to a silver + trifle which I saw displayed in a show-case, and, recognising that it was + a porte-crayon (price eighteen roubles), requested that it should + forthwith be wrapped in paper for me. Next, the money paid, and the + information acquired that splendid pipes and tobacco were to be obtained + in an adjacent emporium, I bowed to the two shopmen politely, and issued + into the street with the picture under my arm. At the shop next door + (which had painted on its sign-board a negro smoking a cigar) I bought + (likewise out of a desire to imitate no one) some Turkish tobacco, a + Stamboul hookah, and two pipes. On coming out of the shop, I had just + entered the drozhki when I caught sight of Semenoff, who was walking + hurriedly along the pavement with his head bent down. Vexed that he should + not have recognised me, I called out to him pretty loudly, “Hold on a + minute!” and, whipping up the drozhki, soon overtook him. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “My respects to you,” he replied, but without stopping. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you not in your University uniform?” I next inquired. + </p> + <p> + At this he stopped short with a frown, and parted his white teeth as + though the sun were hurting his eyes. The next moment, however, he threw a + glance of studied indifference at my drozhki and uniform, and continued on + his way. + </p> + <p> + From the Kuznetski Bridge, I drove to a confectioner’s in Tverskaia + Street, and, much as I should have liked it to be supposed that it was the + newspapers which most interested me, I had no choice but to begin falling + upon tartlet after tartlet. In fact, for all my bashfulness before a + gentleman who kept regarding me with some curiosity from behind a + newspaper, I ate with great swiftness a tartlet of each of the eight + different sorts which the confectioner kept. + </p> + <p> + On reaching home, I experienced a slight touch of stomach-ache, but paid + no attention to it, and set to work to inspect my purchases. Of these, the + picture so much displeased me that, instead of having it framed and hung + in my room, as Woloda had done with his, I took pains to hide it behind a + chest of drawers, where no one could see it. Likewise, though I also found + the porte-crayon distasteful, I was able, as I laid it on my table, to + comfort myself with the thought that it was at least a SILVER article—so + much capital, as it were—and likely to be very useful to a student. + As for the smoking things, I decided to put them into use at once, and try + their capabilities. + </p> + <p> + Unsealing the four packages, and carefully filling the Stamboul pipe with + some fine-cut, reddish-yellow Turkish tobacco, I applied a hot cinder to + it, and, taking the mouthpiece between my first and second fingers (a + position of the hand which greatly caught my fancy), started to inhale the + smoke. + </p> + <p> + The smell of the tobacco seemed delightful, yet something burnt my mouth + and caught me by the breath. Nevertheless, I hardened my heart, and + continued to draw abundant fumes into my interior. Then I tried blowing + rings and retaining the smoke. Soon the room became filled with blue + vapours, while the pipe started to crackle and the tobacco to fly out in + sparks. Presently, also, I began to feel a smarting in my mouth and a + giddiness in my head. Accordingly, I was on the point of stopping and + going to look at myself and my pipe in the mirror, when, to my surprise, I + found myself staggering about. The room was whirling round and round, and + as I peered into the mirror (which I reached only with some difficulty) I + perceived that my face was as white as a sheet. Hardly had I thrown myself + down upon a sofa when such nausea and faintness swept over me that, making + up my mind that the pipe had proved my death, I expected every moment to + expire. Terribly frightened, I tried to call out for some one to come and + help me, and to send for the doctor. + </p> + <p> + However, this panic of mine did not last long, for I soon understood what + the matter with me was, and remained lying on the sofa with a racking + headache and my limbs relaxed as I stared dully at the stamp on the + package of tobacco, the Pipe-tube coiled on the floor, and the odds and + ends of tobacco and confectioner’s tartlets which were littered about. + “Truly,” I thought to myself in my dejection and disillusionment, “I + cannot be quite grown-up if I cannot smoke as other fellows do, and should + be fated never to hold a chibouk between my first and second fingers, or + to inhale and puff smoke through a flaxen moustache!” + </p> + <p> + When Dimitri called for me at five o’clock, he found me in this unpleasant + predicament. After drinking a glass of water, however, I felt nearly + recovered, and ready to go with him. + </p> + <p> + “So much for your trying to smoke!” said he as he gazed at the remnants of + my debauch. “It is a silly thing to do, and waste of money as well. I long + ago promised myself never to smoke. But come along; we have to call for + Dubkoff.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. HOW WOLODA AND DUBKOFF AMUSED THEMSELVES + </h2> + <p> + THE moment that Dimitri entered my room I perceived from his face, manner + of walking, and the signs which, in him, denoted ill-humour—a + blinking of the eyes and a grim holding of his head to one side, as though + to straighten his collar—that he was in the coldly-correct frame of + mind which was his when he felt dissatisfied with himself. It was a frame + of mind, too, which always produced a chilling effect upon my feelings + towards him. Of late I had begun to observe and appraise my friend’s + character a little more, but our friendship had in no way suffered from + that, since it was still too young and strong for me to be able to look + upon Dimitri as anything but perfect, no matter in what light I regarded + him. In him there were two personalities, both of which I thought + beautiful. One, which I loved devotedly, was kind, mild, forgiving, gay, + and conscious of being those various things. When he was in this frame of + mind his whole exterior, the very tone of his voice, his every movement, + appeared to say: “I am kind and good-natured, and rejoice in being so, and + every one can see that I so rejoice.” The other of his two personalities—one + which I had only just begun to apprehend, and before the majesty of which + I bowed in spirit—was that of a man who was cold, stern to himself + and to others, proud, religious to the point of fanaticism, and + pedantically moral. At the present moment he was, as I say, this second + personality. + </p> + <p> + With that frankness which constituted a necessary condition of our + relations I told him, as soon as we entered the drozhki, how much it + depressed and hurt me to see him, on this my fete-day in a frame of mind + so irksome and disagreeable to me. + </p> + <p> + “What has upset you so?” I asked him. “Will you not tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Nicolas,” was his slow reply as he gave his head a nervous twitch + to one side and blinked his eyes, “since I have given you my word never to + conceal anything from you, you have no reason to suspect me of + secretiveness. One cannot always be in exactly the same mood, and if I + seem at all put out, that is all there is to say about it.” + </p> + <p> + “What a marvellously open, honourable character his is!” I thought to + myself, and dropped the subject. + </p> + <p> + We drove the rest of the way to Dubkoff’s in silence. Dubkoff’s flat was + an unusually fine one—or, at all events, so it seemed to me. + Everywhere were rugs, pictures, gardenias, striped hangings, photographs, + and curved settees, while on the walls hung guns, pistols, pouches, and + the mounted heads of wild beasts. It was the appearance of this apartment + which made me aware whom, it was that Woloda had imitated in the scheme of + his own sitting-room. We found Dubkoff and Woloda engaged in cards, while + seated also at the table, and watching the game with close attention, was + a gentleman whom I did not know, but who appeared to be of no great + importance, judging by the modesty of his attitude. Dubkoff himself was in + a silk dressing-gown and soft slippers, while Woloda—seated opposite + him on a divan—was in his shirtsleeves, as well as (to judge by his + flushed face and the impatient, cursory glance which he gave us for a + second as he looked up from the cards) much taken up with the game. On + seeing me, he reddened still more. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is for you to deal,” he remarked to Dubkoff. In an instant I + divined that he did not altogether relish my becoming acquainted with the + fact that he gambled. Yet his expression had nothing in it of confusion—only + a look which seemed to me to say: “Yes, I play cards, and if you are + surprised at that, it is only because you are so young. There is nothing + wrong about it—it is a necessity at our age.” Yes, I at once divined + and understood that. + </p> + <p> + Instead of dealing, however, Dubkoff rose and shook hands with us; after + which he bade us both be seated, and then offered us pipes, which we + declined. + </p> + <p> + “Here is our DIPLOMAT, then—the hero of the day!” he said to me, + “Good Lord! how you look like a colonel!” + </p> + <p> + “H-m!” I muttered in reply, though once more feeling a complacent smile + overspread my countenance. + </p> + <p> + I stood in that awe of Dubkoff which a sixteen-year-old boy naturally + feels for a twenty-seven-year-old man of whom his elders say that he is a + very clever young man who can dance well and speak French, and who, though + secretly despising one’s youth, endeavours to conceal the fact. Yet, + despite my respect for him, I somehow found it difficult and + uncomfortable, throughout my acquaintanceship with him, to look him in the + eyes, I have since remarked that there are three kinds of men whom I + cannot face easily, namely those who are much better than myself, those + who are much worse, and those between whom and myself there is a mutual + determination not to mention some particular thing of which we are both + aware. Dubkoff may have been a much better fellow than myself, or he may + have been a much worse; but the point was that he lied very frequently + without recognising the fact that I was aware of his doing so, yet had + determined not to mention it. + </p> + <p> + “Let us play another round,” said Woloda, hunching one shoulder after the + manner of Papa, and reshuffling the cards. + </p> + <p> + “How persistent you are!” said Dubkoff. “We can play all we want to + afterwards. Well, one more round, then.” + </p> + <p> + During the play, I looked at their hands. Woloda’s hands were large and + red, whilst in the crook of the thumb and the way in which the other + fingers curved themselves round the cards as he held them they so exactly + resembled Papa’s that now and then I could not help thinking that Woloda + purposely held the cards thus so as to look the more like a grownup. Yet + the next moment, looking at his face, I could see that he had not a + thought in his mind beyond the game. Dubkoff’s hands, on the contrary, + were small, puffy, and inclined to clench themselves, as well as extremely + neat and small-fingered. They were just the kind of hands which generally + display rings, and which are most to be seen on persons who are both + inclined to use them and fond of objets de vertu. + </p> + <p> + Woloda must have lost, for the gentleman who was watching the play + remarked that Vladimir Petrovitch had terribly bad luck, while Dubkoff + reached for a note book, wrote something in it, and then, showing Woloda + what he had written, said: + </p> + <p> + “Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” said Woloda, glancing with feigned carelessness at the note book. + “Now let us go.” + </p> + <p> + Woloda took Dubkoff, and I gave Dimitri a lift in my drozhki. + </p> + <p> + “What were they playing at?” I inquired of Dimitri. + </p> + <p> + “At piquet. It is a stupid game. In fact, all such games are stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “And were they playing for much?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not very much, but more than they ought to.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you ever play yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I swore never to do so; but Dubkoff will play with any one he can get + hold of.” + </p> + <p> + “He ought not to do that,” I remarked. “So Woloda does not play so well as + he does?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Dubkoff ought not to, as you say, yet there is nothing especially + bad about it all. He likes playing, and plays well, but he is a good + fellow all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea of this,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “We must not think ill of him,” concluded Dimitri, “since he is a simply + splendid fellow. I like him very much, and always shall like him, in spite + of his weakness.” + </p> + <p> + For some reason or another the idea occurred to me that, just BECAUSE + Dimitri stuck up so stoutly for Dubkoff, he neither liked nor respected + him in reality, but was determined, out of stubbornness and a desire not + to be accused of inconstancy, never to own to the fact. He was one of + those people who love their friends their life long, not so much because + those friends remain always dear to them, as because, having once—possibly + mistakenly—liked a person, they look upon it as dishonourable to + cease ever to do so. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. I AM FETED AT DINNER + </h2> + <p> + Dubkoff and Woloda knew every one at the restaurant by name, and every + one, from the waiters to the proprietor, paid them great respect. No time + was lost in allotting us a private room, where a bottle of iced + champagne-upon which I tried to look with as much indifference as I could—stood + ready waiting for us, and where we were served with a most wonderful + repast selected by Dubkoff from the French menu. The meal went off most + gaily and agreeably, notwithstanding that Dubkoff, as usual, told us + blood-curdling tales of doubtful veracity (among others, a tale of how his + grandmother once shot dead three robbers who were attacking her—a + recital at which I blushed, closed my eyes, and turned away from the + narrator), and that Woloda reddened visibly whenever I opened my mouth to + speak—which was the more uncalled for on his part, seeing that never + once, so far as I can remember, did I say anything shameful. After we had + been given champagne, every one congratulated me, and I drank “hands + across” with Dimitri and Dubkoff, and wished them joy. Since, however, I + did not know to whom the bottle of champagne belonged (it was explained to + me later that it was common property), I considered that, in return, I + ought to treat my friends out of the money which I had never ceased to + finger in my pocket. Accordingly, I stealthily extracted a ten-rouble + note, and, beckoning the waiter to my side, handed him the money, and told + him in a whisper (yet not so softly but that every one could hear me, + seeing that every one was staring at me in dead silence) to “bring, if you + please, a half-bottle of champagne.” At this Woloda reddened again, and + began to fidget so violently, and to gaze upon myself and every one else + with such a distracted air, that I felt sure I had somehow put my foot in + it. However, the half-bottle came, and we drank it with great gusto. After + that, things went on merrily. Dubkoff continued his unending fairy tales, + while Woloda also told funny stories—and told them well, too—in + a way I should never have credited him: so that our laughter rang long and + loud. Their best efforts lay in imitation, and in variants of a certain + well-known saw. “Have you ever been abroad?” one would say to the other, + for instance. “No,” the one interrogated would reply, “but my brother + plays the fiddle.” Such perfection had the pair attained in this species + of comic absurdity that they could answer any question by its means, while + they would also endeavour to unite two absolutely unconnected matters + without a previous question having been asked at all, yet say everything + with a perfectly serious face and produce a most comic effect. I too began + to try to be funny, but as soon as ever I spoke they either looked at me + askance or did not look at me until I had finished: so that my anecdotes + fell flat. Yet, though Dubkoff always remarked, “Our DIPLOMAT is lying, + brother,” I felt so exhilarated with the champagne and the company of my + elders that the remark scarcely touched me. Only Dimitri, though he drank + level with the rest of us, continued in the same severe, serious frame of + mind—a fact which put a certain check upon the general hilarity. + </p> + <p> + “Now, look here, gentlemen,” said Dubkoff at last. “After dinner we ought + to take the DIPLOMAT in hand. How would it be for him to go with us to see + Auntie? There we could put him through his paces.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but Nechludoff will not go there,” objected Woloda. + </p> + <p> + “O unbearable, insupportable man of quiet habits that you are!” cried + Dubkoff, turning to Dimitri. “Yet come with us, and you shall see what an + excellent lady my dear Auntie is.” + </p> + <p> + “I will neither go myself nor let him go,” replied Dimitri. + </p> + <p> + “Let whom go? The DIPLOMAT? Why, you yourself saw how he brightened up at + the very mention of Auntie.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not so much that I WILL NOT LET HIM go,” continued Dimitri, rising + and beginning to pace the room without looking at me, “as that I neither + wish him nor advise him to go. He is not a child now, and if he must go he + can go alone—without you. Surely you are ashamed of this, Dubkoff?—ashamed + of always wanting others to do all the wrong things that you yourself do?” + </p> + <p> + “But what is there so very wrong in my inviting you all to come and take a + cup of tea with my Aunt?” said Dubkoff, with a wink at Woloda. “If you + don’t like us going, it is your affair; yet we are going all the same. Are + you coming, Woloda?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” assented Woloda. “We can go there, and then return to my rooms + and continue our piquet.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to go with them or not?” said Dimitri, approaching me. + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, at the same time making room for him to sit down beside + me on the divan. “I did not wish to go in any case, and since you advise + me not to, nothing on earth will make me go now. Yet,” I added a moment + later, “I cannot honestly say that I have NO desire to go. All I say is + that I am glad I am not going.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right,” he said. “Live your own life, and do not dance to any + one’s piping. That is the better way.” + </p> + <p> + This little tiff not only failed to mar our hilarity, but even increased + it. Dimitri suddenly reverted to the kindly mood which I loved best—so + great (as I afterwards remarked on more than one occasion) was the + influence which the consciousness of having done a good deed exercised + upon him. At the present moment the source of his satisfaction was the + fact that he had stopped my expedition to “Auntie’s.” He grew + extraordinarily gay, called for another bottle of champagne (which was + against his rules), invited some one who was a perfect stranger into our + room, plied him with wine, sang “Gaudeamus igitur,” requested every one to + join him in the chorus, and proposed that we should and rink at the + Sokolniki. [Mews.] + </p> + <p> + “Let us enjoy ourselves to-night,” he said with a laugh. “It is in honour + of his matriculation that you now see me getting drunk for the first time + in my life.” + </p> + <p> + Yet somehow this merriment sat ill upon him. He was like some good-natured + father or tutor who is pleased with his young charges, and lets himself go + for their amusement, yet at the same time tries to show them that one can + enjoy oneself decently and in an honourable manner. However, his + unexpected gaiety had an infectious influence upon myself and my + companions, and the more so because each of us had now drunk about half a + bottle of champagne. + </p> + <p> + It was in this pleasing frame of mind that I went out into the main salon + to smoke a cigarette which Dubkoff had given me. In rising I noticed that + my head seemed to swim a little, and that my legs and arms retained their + natural positions only when I bent my thoughts determinedly upon them. At + other moments my legs would deviate from the straight line, and my arms + describe strange gestures. I concentrated my whole attention upon the + members in question, forced my hands first to raise themselves and button + my tunic, and then to smooth my hair (though they ruffled my locks in + doing so), and lastly commanded my legs to march me to the door—a + function which they duly performed, though at one time with too much + reluctance, and at another with too much ABANDON (the left leg, in + particular, coming to a halt every moment on tiptoe). Some one called out + to me, “Where are you going to? They will bring you a cigar-light + directly,” but I guessed the voice to be Woloda’s, and, feeling satisfied, + somehow, that I had succeeded in divining the fact, merely smiled airily + in reply, and continued on my way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. THE QUARREL + </h2> + <p> + In the main salon I perceived sitting at a small table a short, squat + gentleman of the professional type. He had a red moustache, and was + engaged in eating something or another, while by his side sat a tall, + clean-shaven individual with whom he was carrying on a conversation in + French. Somehow the aspect of these two persons displeased me; yet I + decided, for all that, to light my cigarette at the candelabrum which was + standing before them. Looking from side to side, to avoid meeting their + gaze, I approached the table, and applied my cigarette to the flame. When + it was fairly alight, I involuntarily threw a glance at the gentleman who + was eating, and found his grey eyes fixed upon me with an expression of + intense displeasure. Just as I was turning away his red moustache moved a + little, and he said in French: + </p> + <p> + “I do not like people to smoke when I am dining, my good sir.” + </p> + <p> + I murmured something inaudible. + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not like it at all,” he went on sternly, and with a glance at + his clean-shaven companion, as though inviting him to admire the way in + which he was about to deal with me. “I do not like it, my good sir, nor do + I like people who have the impudence to puff their smoke up one’s very + nose.” + </p> + <p> + By this time I had gathered that it was myself he was scolding, and at + first felt as though I had been altogether in the wrong. + </p> + <p> + “I did not mean to inconvenience you,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you did not suppose you were being impertinent, at least I did! + You are a cad, young sir!” he shouted in reply. + </p> + <p> + “But what right have you to shout at me like that?” I exclaimed, feeling + that it was now HE that was insulting ME, and growing angry accordingly. + </p> + <p> + “This much right,” he replied, “that I never allow myself to be overlooked + by any one, and that I always teach young fellows like yourself their + manners. What is your name, young sir, and where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + At this I felt so hurt that my teeth chattered, and I felt as though I + were choking. Yet all the while I was conscious of being in the wrong, and + so, instead of offering any further rudeness to the offended one, humbly + told him my name and address. + </p> + <p> + “And MY name, young sir,” he returned, “is Kolpikoff, and I will trouble + you to be more polite to me in future.—However, You will hear from + me again” (“vous aurez de mes nouvelles”—the conversation had been + carried on wholly in French), was his concluding remark. + </p> + <p> + To this I replied, “I shall be delighted,” with an infusion of as much + hauteur as I could muster into my tone. Then, turning on my heel, I + returned with my cigarette—which had meanwhile gone out—to our + own room. + </p> + <p> + I said nothing, either to my brother or my friends, about what had + happened (and the more so because they were at that moment engaged in a + dispute of their own), but sat down in a corner to think over the strange + affair. The words, “You are a cad, young sir,” vexed me more and more the + longer that they sounded in my ears. My tipsiness was gone now, and, in + considering my conduct during the dispute, the uncomfortable thought came + over me that I had behaved like a coward. + </p> + <p> + “Yet what right had he to attack me?” I reflected. “Why did he not simply + intimate to me that I was annoying him? After all, it may have been he + that was in the wrong. Why, too, when he called me a young cad, did I not + say to him, ‘A cad, my good sir, is one who takes offence’? Or why did I + not simply tell him to hold his tongue? That would have been the better + course. Or why did I not challenge him to a duel? No, I did none of those + things, but swallowed his insults like a wretched coward.” + </p> + <p> + Still the words, “You are a cad, young sir,” kept sounding in my ears with + maddening iteration. “I cannot leave things as they are,” I at length + decided as I rose to my feet with the fixed intention of returning to the + gentleman and saying something outrageous to him—perhaps, also, of + breaking the candelabrum over his head if occasion offered. Yet, though I + considered the advisability of this last measure with some pleasure, it + was not without a good deal of trepidation that I re-entered the main + salon. As luck would have it, M. Kolpikoff was no longer there, but only a + waiter engaged in clearing the table. For a moment I felt like telling the + waiter the whole story, and explaining to him my innocence in the matter, + but for some reason or another I thought better of it, and once more + returned, in the same hazy condition of mind, to our own room. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of our DIPLOMAT?” Dubkoff was just saying. “Upon him now + hang the fortunes of Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, leave me alone,” I said, turning moodily away. Then, as I paced the + room, something made me begin to think that Dubkoff was not altogether a + good fellow. “There is nothing very much to admire in his eternal jokes + and his nickname of ‘DIPLOMAT,’” I reflected. “All he thinks about is to + win money from Woloda and to go and see his ‘Auntie.’ There is nothing + very nice in all that. Besides, everything he says has a touch of + blackguardism in it, and he is forever trying to make people laugh. In my + opinion he is simply stupid when he is not absolutely a brute.” I spent + about five minutes in these reflections, and felt my enmity towards + Dubkoff continually increasing. For his part, he took no notice of me, and + that angered me the more. I actually felt vexed with Woloda and Dimitri + because they went on talking to him. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, gentlemen: the DIPLOMAT ought to be christened,” said + Dubkoff suddenly, with a glance and a smile which seemed to me derisive, + and even treacherous. “Yet, O Lord, what a poor specimen he is!” + </p> + <p> + “You yourself ought to be christened, and you yourself are a sorry + specimen!” I retorted with an evil smile, and actually forgetting to + address him as “thou.” [In Russian as in French, the second person + singular is the form of speech used between intimate friends.] + </p> + <p> + This reply evidently surprised Dubkoff, but he turned away + good-humouredly, and went on talking to Woloda and Dimitri. I tried to + edge myself into the conversation, but, since I felt that I could not keep + it up, I soon returned to my corner, and remained there until we left. + </p> + <p> + When the bill had been paid and wraps were being put on, Dubkoff turned to + Dimitri and said: “Whither are Orestes and Pedalion going now? Home, I + suppose, to talk about love. Well, let US go and see my dear Auntie. That + will be far more entertaining than your sour company.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you speak like that, and laugh at us?” I burst out as I + approached him with clenched fists. “How dare you laugh at feelings which + you do not understand? I will not have you do it! Hold your tongue!” At + this point I had to hold my own, for I did not know what to say next, and + was, moreover, out of breath with excitement. At first Dubkoff was taken + aback, but presently he tried to laugh it off, and to take it as a joke. + Finally I was surprised to see him look crestfallen, and lower his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I NEVER laugh at you or your feelings. It is merely my way of speaking,” + he said evasively. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” I cried; yet the next moment I felt ashamed of myself and sorry + for him, since his flushed, downcast face had in it no other expression + than one of genuine pain. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” said Woloda and Dimitri simultaneously. “No + one was trying to insult you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he DID try to insult me!” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “What an extraordinary fellow your brother is!” said Dubkoff to Woloda. At + that moment he was passing out of the door, and could not have heard what + I said. Possibly I should have flung myself after him and offered him + further insult, had it not been that just at that moment the waiter who + had witnessed my encounter with Kolpikoff handed me my greatcoat, and I at + once quietened down—merely making such a pretence of having had a + difference with Dimitri as was necessary to make my sudden appeasement + appear nothing extraordinary. Next day, when I met Dubkoff at Woloda’s, + the quarrel was not raked up, yet he and I still addressed each other as + “you,” and found it harder than ever to look one another in the face. + </p> + <p> + The remembrance of my scene with Kolpikoff—who, by the way, never + sent me “de ses nouvelles,” either the following day or any day afterwards—remained + for years a keen and unpleasant memory. Even so much as five years after + it had happened I would begin fidgeting and muttering to myself whenever I + remembered the unavenged insult, and was fain to comfort myself with the + satisfaction of recollecting the sort of young fellow I had shown myself + to be in my subsequent affair with Dubkoff. In fact, it was only later + still that I began to regard the matter in another light, and both to + recall with comic appreciation my passage of arms with Kolpikoff, and to + regret the undeserved affront which I had offered my good friend Dubkoff. + </p> + <p> + When, at a later hour on the evening of the dinner, I told Dimitri of my + affair with Kolpikoff, whose exterior I described in detail, he was + astounded. + </p> + <p> + “That is the very man!” he cried. “Don’t you know that this precious + Kolpikoff is a known scamp and sharper, as well as, above all things, a + coward, and that he was expelled from his regiment by his brother officers + because, having had his face slapped, he would not fight? But how came you + to let him get away?” he added, with a kindly smile and glance. “Surely he + could not have said more to you than he did when he called you a cad?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I admitted with a blush. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was not right, but there is no great harm done,” said Dimitri + consolingly. + </p> + <p> + Long afterwards, when thinking the matter over at leisure, I suddenly came + to the conclusion that it was quite possible that Kolpikoff took the + opportunity of vicariously wiping off upon me the slap in the face which + he had once received, just as I myself took the opportunity of vicariously + wiping off upon the innocent Dubkoff the epithet “cad” which Kolpikoff had + just applied to me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. I GET READY TO PAY SOME CALLS + </h2> + <p> + On awaking next morning my first thoughts were of the affair with + Kolpikoff. Once again I muttered to myself and stamped about the room, but + there was no help for it. To-day was the last day that I was to spend in + Moscow, and it was to be spent, by Papa’s orders, in my paying a round of + calls which he had written out for me on a piece of paper—his first + solicitude on our account being not so much for our morals or our + education as for our due observance of the convenances. On the piece of + paper was written in his swift, broken hand-writing: “(1) Prince Ivan + Ivanovitch WITHOUT FAIL; (2) the Iwins WITHOUT FAIL; (3) Prince Michael; + (4) the Princess Nechludoff and Madame Valakhina if you wish.” Of course I + was also to call upon my guardian, upon the rector, and upon the + professors. + </p> + <p> + These last-mentioned calls, however, Dimitri advised me not to pay: saying + that it was not only unnecessary to do so, but not the thing. However, + there were the other visits to be got through. It was the first two on the + list—those marked as to be paid “WITHOUT FAIL”—that most + alarmed me. Prince Ivan Ivanovitch was a commander-in-chief, as well as + old, wealthy, and a bachelor. Consequently, I foresaw that vis-a-vis + conversation between him and myself—myself a sixteen-year-old + student!—was not likely to be interesting. As for the Iwins, they + too were rich—the father being a departmental official of high rank + who had only on one occasion called at our house during my grandmother’s + time. Since her death, I had remarked that the younger Iwin had fought shy + of us, and seemed to give himself airs. The elder of the pair, I had + heard, had now finished his course in jurisprudence, and gone to hold a + post in St. Petersburg, while his brother Sergius (the former object of my + worship) was also in St. Petersburg, as a great fat cadet in the Corps of + Pages. + </p> + <p> + When I was a young man, not only did I dislike intercourse with people who + thought themselves above me, but such intercourse was, for me, an + unbearable torture, owing partly to my constant dread of being snubbed, + and partly to my straining every faculty of my intellect to prove to such + people my independence. Yet, even if I failed to fulfil the latter part of + my father’s instructions, I felt that I must carry out the former. I paced + my room and eyed my clothes ready disposed on chairs—the tunic, the + sword, and the cap. Just as I was about to set forth, old Grap called to + congratulate me, bringing with him Ilinka. Grap pere was a Russianised + German and an intolerably effusive, sycophantic old man who was more often + than not tipsy. As a rule, he visited us only when he wanted to ask for + something, and although Papa sometimes entertained him in his study, old + Grap never came to dinner with us. With his subserviency and begging + propensities went such a faculty of good-humour and a power of making + himself at home that every one looked upon his attachment to us as a great + honour. For my part, however, I never liked him, and felt ashamed when he + was speaking. + </p> + <p> + I was much put out by the arrival of these visitors, and made no effort to + conceal the fact. Upon Ilinka I had been so used to look down, and he so + used to recognise my right to do so, that it displeased me to think that + he was now as much a matriculated student as myself. In some way he + appeared to me to have made a POINT of attaining that equality. I greeted + the pair coldly, and, without offering them any refreshment (since it went + against the grain to do so, and I thought they could ask for anything, if + they wanted it, without my first inviting them to state their + requirements), gave orders for the drozhki to be got ready. Ilinka was a + good-natured, extremely moral, and far from stupid young fellow; yet, for + all that, what people call a person of moods. That is to say, for no + apparent reason he was for ever in some PRONOUNCED frame of mind—now + lachrymose, now frivolous, now touchy on the very smallest point. At the + present moment he appeared to be in the last-named mood. He kept looking + from his father to myself without speaking, except when directly + addressed, at which times he smiled the self-deprecatory, forced smile + under which he was accustomed to conceal his feelings, and more especially + that feeling of shame for his father which he must have experienced in our + house. + </p> + <p> + “So, Nicolas Petrovitch,” the old man said to me, following me everywhere + about the room as I went through the operation of dressing, while all the + while his fat fingers kept turning over and over a silver snuff-box with + which my grandmother had once presented me, “as soon as ever I heard from + my son that you had passed your examinations so well (though of course + your abilities are well-known to everyone), I at once came to congratulate + you, my dear boy. Why, I have carried you on my shoulders before now, and + God knows that I love you as though you were my own son. My Ilinka too has + always been fond of you, and feels quite at home with you.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the said Ilinka remained sitting silently by the window, + apparently absorbed in contemplation of my three-cornered cap, and every + now and then angrily muttering something in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I also wanted to ask you, Nicolas Petrovitch.” His father went on, + “whether my son did well in the examinations? He tells me that he is going + to be in the same faculty as yourself, and that therefore you will be able + to keep an eye on him, and advise him, and so on.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I suppose he passed well,” I replied, with a glance at Ilinka, + who, conscious of my gaze, reddened violently and ceased to move his lips + about. “And might he spend the day with you?” was the father’s next + request, which he made with a deprecatory smile, as though he stood in + actual awe of me, yet always keeping so close to me, wherever I moved, + that the fumes of the drink and tobacco in which he had been indulging + were constantly perceptible to my nostrils. I felt greatly vexed at his + placing me in such a false position towards his son, as well as at his + distracting my attention from what was, to me, a highly important + operation—namely, the operation of dressing; while, over and above + all, I was annoyed by the smell of liquor with which he followed me about. + Accordingly, I said very coldly that I could not have the pleasure of + Ilinka’s company that day, since I should be out. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I suppose you are going to see your sister?” put in Ilinka with a + smile, but without looking at me. “Well, I too have business to attend + to.” At this I felt even more put out, as well as pricked with + compunction; so, to soften my refusal a little, I hastened to say that the + reason why I should not be at home that day was that I had to call upon + the PRINCE Ivan Ivanovitch, the PRINCESS Kornakoff, and the Monsieur Iwin + who held such an influential post, as well as, probably, to dine with the + PRINCESS Nechludoff (for I thought that, on learning what important folk I + was in the habit of mixing with, the Graps would no longer think it worth + while to pretend to me). However, just as they were leaving, I invited + Ilinka to come and see me another day; but he only murmured something + unintelligible, and it was plain that he meant never to set foot in the + house again. + </p> + <p> + When they had departed, I set off on my round of calls. Woloda, whom I had + asked that morning to come with me, in order that I might not feel quite + so shy as when altogether alone, had declined on the ground that for two + brothers to be seen driving in one drozhki would appear so horribly + “proper.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. THE VALAKHIN FAMILY + </h2> + <p> + Accordingly I set off alone. My first call on the route lay at the + Valakhin mansion. It was now three years since I had seen Sonetchka, and + my love for her had long become a thing of the past, yet there still + lingered in my heart a sort of clear, touching recollection of our bygone + childish affection. At intervals, also, during those three years, I had + found myself recalling her memory with such force and vividness that I had + actually shed tears, and imagined myself to be in love with her again, but + those occasions had not lasted more than a few minutes at a time, and had + been long in recurring. + </p> + <p> + I knew that Sonetchka and her mother had been abroad—that, in fact, + they had been so for the last two years. Also, I had heard that they had + been in a carriage accident, and that Sonetchka’s face had been so badly + cut with the broken glass that her beauty was marred. As I drove to their + house, I kept recalling the old Sonetchka to my mind, and wondering what + she would look like when I met her. Somehow I imagined that, after her two + years’ sojourn abroad, she would look very tall, with a beautiful waist, + and, though sedate and imposing, extremely attractive. Somehow, also, my + imagination refused to picture her with her face disfigured with scars, + but, on the contrary, since I had read somewhere of a lover who remained + true to his adored one in spite of her disfigurement with smallpox, strove + to imagine that I was in love with Sonetchka, for the purpose of priding + myself on holding to my troth in spite of her scars—Yet, as a matter + of fact, I was not really in love with her during that drive, but having + once stirred up in myself old MEMORIES of love, felt PREPARED to fall into + that condition, and the more so because, of late, my conscience had often + been pricking me for having discarded so many of my old flames. + </p> + <p> + The Valakhins lived in a neat little wooden mansion approached by a + courtyard. I gained admittance by ringing a bell (then a rarity in + Moscow), and was received by a mincing, smartly-attired page. He either + could not or made no attempt to inform me whether there was any one at + home, but, leaving me alone in the dark hall, ran off down a still darker + corridor. For a long time I waited in solitude in this gloomy place, out + of which, in addition to the front door and the corridor, there only + opened a door which at the moment was closed. Rather surprised at the + dismal appearance of the house, I came to the conclusion that the reason + was that its inmates were still abroad. After five minutes, however, the + door leading into the salon was opened by the page boy, who then conducted + me into a neat, but not richly furnished, drawing-room, where presently I + was joined by Sonetchka. + </p> + <p> + She was now seventeen years old, and very small and thin, as well as of an + unhealthy pallor of face. No scars at all were visible, however, and the + beautiful, prominent eyes and bright, cheerful smile were the same as I + had known and loved in my childhood. I had not expected her to look at all + like this, and therefore could not at once lavish upon her the sentiment + which I had been preparing on the way. She gave me her hand in the English + fashion (which was then as much a novelty as a door-bell), and, bestowing + upon mine a frank squeeze, sat down on the sofa by my side. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! how glad I am to see you, my dear Nicolas!” she said as she looked me + in the face with an expression of pleasure so sincere that in the words + “my dear Nicolas” I caught the purely friendly rather than the patronising + note. To my surprise she seemed to me simpler, kinder, and more sisterly + after her foreign tour than she had been before it. True, I could now see + that she had two small scars between her nose and temples, but her + wonderful eyes and smile fitted in exactly with my recollections, and + shone as of old. + </p> + <p> + “But how greatly you have changed!” she went on. “You are quite grown-up + now. And I-I-well, what do you think of me?” + </p> + <p> + “I should never have known you,” I replied, despite the fact that at the + moment I was thinking that I should have known her anywhere and always. + </p> + <p> + “Why? Am I grown so ugly?” she inquired with a movement of her head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, decidedly not!” I hastened to reply. “But you have grown taller + and older. As for being uglier, why, you are even— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; never mind. Do you remember our dances and games, and St. + Jerome, and Madame Dorat?” (As a matter of fact, I could not recollect any + Madame Dorat, but saw that Sonetchka was being led away by the joy of her + childish recollections, and mixing them up a little). “Ah! what a lovely + time it was!” she went on—and once more there shone before me the + same eyes and smile as I had always carried in my memory. While she had + been speaking, I had been thinking over my position at the present moment, + and had come to the conclusion that I was in love with her. The instant, + however, that I arrived at that result my careless, happy mood vanished, a + mist seemed to arise before me which concealed even her eyes and smile, + and, blushing hotly, I became tongue-tied and ill-at-ease. + </p> + <p> + “But times are different now,” she went on with a sigh and a little + lifting of her eyebrows. “Everything seems worse than it used to be, and + ourselves too. Is it not so, Nicolas?” + </p> + <p> + I could return her no answer, but sat silently looking at her. + </p> + <p> + “Where are those Iwins and Kornakoffs now? Do you remember them?” she + continued, looking, I think, with some curiosity at my blushing, downcast + countenance. “What splendid times we used to have!” + </p> + <p> + Still I could not answer her. + </p> + <p> + The next moment, I was relieved from this awkward position by the entry of + old Madame Valakhin into the room. Rising, I bowed, and straightway + recovered my faculty of speech. On the other hand, an extraordinary change + now took place in Sonetchka. All her gaiety and bonhomie disappeared, her + smile became quite a different one, and, except for the point of her + shortness of stature, she became just the lady from abroad whom I had + expected to find in her. Yet for this change there was no apparent reason, + since her mother smiled every whit as pleasantly, and expressed in her + every movement just the same benignity, as of old. Seating herself in her + arm-chair, the old lady signed to me to come and sit beside her; after + which she said something to her daughter in English, and Sonetchka left + the room—a fact which still further helped to relieve me. Madame + then inquired after my father and brother, and passed on to speak of her + great bereavement—the loss of her husband. Presently, however, she + seemed to become sensible of the fact that I was not helping much in the + conversation, for she gave me a look as much as to say: “If, now, my dear + boy, you were to get up, to take your leave, and to depart, it would be + well.” But a curious circumstance had overtaken me. While she had been + speaking of her bereavement, I had recalled to myself, not only the fact + that I was in love, but the probability that the mother knew of it: + whereupon such a fit of bashfulness had come upon me that I felt powerless + to put any member of my body to its legitimate use. I knew that if I were + to rise and walk I should have to think where to plant each foot, what to + do with my head, what with my hands, and so on. In a word, I foresaw that + I should be very much as I had been on the night when I partook too freely + of champagne, and therefore, since I felt uncertain of being able to + manage myself if I DID rise, I ended by feeling UNABLE to rise. Meanwhile, + I should say, Sonetchka had returned to the room with her work, and seated + herself in a far corner—a corner whence, as I was nevertheless + sensible, she could observe me. Madame must have felt some surprise as she + gazed at my crimson face and noted my complete immobility, but I decided + that it was better to continue sitting in that absurd position than to + risk something unpleasant by getting up and walking. Thus I sat on and on, + in the hope that some unforeseen chance would deliver me from my + predicament. That unforeseen chance at length presented itself in the + person of an unforeseen young man, who entered the room with an air of + being one of the household, and bowed to me politely as he did so: + whereupon Madame rose, excused herself to me for having to speak with her + “homme d’affaires,” and finally gave me a glance which said: “Well, if you + DO mean to go on sitting there for ever, at least I can’t drive you away.” + Accordingly, with a great effort I also rose, but, finding it impossible + to do any leave-taking, moved away towards the door, followed by the + pitying glances of mother and daughter. All at once I stumbled over a + chair, although it was lying quite out of my route: the reason for my + stumbling being that my whole attention was centred upon not tripping over + the carpet. Driving through the fresh air, however—where at first I + muttered and fidgeted about so much that Kuzma, my coachman, asked me what + was the matter—I soon found this feeling pass away, and began to + meditate quietly concerning my love for Sonetchka and her relations with + her mother, which had appeared to me rather strange. When, afterwards, I + told my father that mother and daughter had not seemed on the best of + terms with one another, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame leads the poor girl an awful life with her meanness. Yet,” + added my father with a greater display of feeling than a man might + naturally conceive for a mere relative, “she used to be such an original, + dear, charming woman! I cannot think what has made her change so much. By + the way, you didn’t notice a secretary fellow about, did you? Fancy a + Russian lady having an affaire with a secretary!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I saw him,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “And was he at least good-looking?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “It is extraordinary!” concluded Papa, with a cough and an irritable hoist + of his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am in love!” was my secret thought to myself as I drove along in + my drozhki. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. THE KORNAKOFFS + </h2> + <p> + MY second call on the route lay at the Kornakoffs’, who lived on the first + floor of a large mansion facing the Arbat. The staircase of the building + looked extremely neat and orderly, yet in no way luxurious—being + lined only with drugget pinned down with highly-polished brass rods. + Nowhere were there any flowers or mirrors to be seen. The salon, too, with + its polished floor, which I traversed on my way to the drawing-room, was + decorated in the same cold, severe, unostentatious style. Everything in it + looked bright and solid, but not new, and pictures, flower-stands, and + articles of bric-a-brac were wholly absent. In the drawing-room I found + some of the young princesses seated, but seated with the sort of correct, + “company” air about them which gave one the impression that they sat like + that only when guests were expected. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma will be here presently,” the eldest of them said to me as she + seated herself by my side. For the next quarter of an hour, this young + lady entertained me with such an easy flow of small-talk that the + conversation never flagged a moment. Yet somehow she made so patent the + fact that she was just entertaining me that I felt not altogether pleased. + Amongst other things, she told me that their brother Stephen (whom they + called Etienne, and who had been two years at the College of Cadets) had + now received his commission. Whenever she spoke of him, and more + particularly when she told me that he had flouted his mother’s wishes by + entering the Hussars, she assumed a nervous air, and immediately her + sisters, sitting there in silence, also assumed a nervous air. When, + again, she spoke of my grandmother’s death, she assumed a MOURNFUL air, + and immediately the others all did the same. Finally, when she recalled + how I had once struck St. Jerome and been expelled from the room, she + laughed and showed her bad teeth, and immediately all the other princesses + laughed and showed their bad teeth too. + </p> + <p> + Next, the Princess-Mother herself entered—a little dried-up woman, + with a wandering glance and a habit of always looking at somebody else + when she was addressing one. Taking my hand, she raised her own to my lips + for me to kiss it—which otherwise, not supposing it to be necessary, + I should not have done. + </p> + <p> + “How pleased I am to see you!” she said with her usual clearness of + articulation as she gazed at her daughters. “And how like your mother you + look! Does he not, Lise?” + </p> + <p> + Lise assented, though I knew for a fact that I did not resemble my mother + in the least. + </p> + <p> + “And what a grown-up you have become! My Etienne, you will remember, is + your second cousin. No, not second cousin—what is it, Lise? My + mother was Barbara Dimitrievna, daughter of Dimitri Nicolaevitch, and your + grandmother was Natalia Nicolaevna.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is our THIRD cousin, Mamma,” said the eldest girl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how you always confuse me!” was her mother’s angry reply. “Not third + cousin, but COUSIN GERMAN—that is your relationship to Etienne. He + is an officer now. Did you know it? It is not well that he should have his + own way too much. You young men need keeping in hand, or—! Well, you + are not vexed because your old aunt tells you the plain truth? I always + kept Etienne strictly in hand, for I found it necessary to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is how our relationship stands,” she went on. “Prince Ivan + Ivanovitch is my uncle, and your late mother’s uncle also. Consequently I + must have been your mother’s first cousin—no, second cousin. Yes, + that is it. Tell me, have you been to call on Prince Ivan yet?” + </p> + <p> + I said no, but that I was just going to. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is it possible?” she cried. “Why, you ought to have paid him the + first call of all! Surely you know that he stands to you in the position + of a father? He has no children of his own, and his only heirs are + yourself and my children. You ought to pay him all possible deference, + both because of his age, and because of his position in the world, and + because of everything else. I know that you young fellows of the present + day think nothing of relationships and are not fond of old men, yet do you + listen to me, your old aunt, for I am fond of you, and was fond of your + mother, and had a great—a very great-liking and respect for your + grandmother. You must not fail to call upon him on any account.” + </p> + <p> + I said that I would certainly go, and since my present call seemed to me + to have lasted long enough, I rose, and was about to depart, but she + restrained me. + </p> + <p> + “No, wait a minute,” she cried. “Where is your father, Lise? Go and tell + him to come here. He will be so glad to see you,” she added, turning to + me. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Prince Michael entered. He was a short, thick-set + gentleman, very slovenly dressed and ill-shaven, yet wearing such an air + of indifference that he looked almost a fool. He was not in the least glad + to see me—at all events he did not intimate that he was; but the + Princess (who appeared to stand in considerable awe of him) hastened to + say: + </p> + <p> + “Is not Woldemar here” (she seemed to have forgotten my name) “exactly + like his mother?” and she gave her husband a glance which forced him to + guess what she wanted. Accordingly he approached me with his usual + passionless, half-discontented expression, and held out to me an unshaven + cheek to kiss. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are not dressed yet, though you have to go out soon!” was the + Princess’s next remark to him in the angry tone which she habitually + employed in conversation with her domestics. “It will only mean your + offending some one again, and trying to set people against you.” + </p> + <p> + “In a moment, in a moment, mother,” said Prince Michael, and departed. I + also made my bows and departed. + </p> + <p> + This was the first time I had heard of our being related to Prince Ivan + Ivanovitch, and the news struck me unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. THE IWINS + </h2> + <p> + As for the prospect of my call upon the Prince, it seemed even more + unpleasant. However, the order of my route took me first to the Iwins, who + lived in a large and splendid mansion in Tverskaia Street. It was not + without some nervousness that I entered the great portico where a Swiss + major-domo stood armed with his staff of office. + </p> + <p> + To my inquiry as to whether any one was at home he replied: “Whom do you + wish to see, sir? The General’s son is within.” + </p> + <p> + “And the General himself?” I asked with forced assurance. + </p> + <p> + “I must report to him your business first. What may it be, sir?” said the + major-domo as he rang a bell. Immediately the gaitered legs of a footman + showed themselves on the staircase above; whereupon I was seized with such + a fit of nervousness that I hastily bid the lacquey say nothing about my + presence to the General, since I would first see his son. By the time I + had reached the top of the long staircase, I seemed to have grown + extremely small (metaphorically, I mean, not actually), and had very much + the same feeling within me as had possessed my soul when my drozhki drew + up to the great portico, namely, a feeling as though drozhki, horse, and + coachman had all of them grown extremely small too. I found the General’s + son lying asleep on a sofa, with an open book before him. His tutor, + Monsieur Frost, under whose care he still pursued his studies at home, had + entered behind me with a sort of boyish tread, and now awoke his pupil. + Iwin evinced no particular pleasure at seeing me, while I also seemed to + notice that, while talking to me, he kept looking at my eyebrows. Although + he was perfectly polite, I conceived that he was “entertaining” me much as + the Princess Valakhin had done, and that he not only felt no particular + liking for me, but even that he considered my acquaintance in no way + necessary to one who possessed his own circle of friends. All this arose + out of the idea that he was regarding my eyebrows. In short, his bearing + towards me appeared to be (as I recognised with an awkward sensation) very + much the same as my own towards Ilinka Grap. I began to feel irritated, + and to interpret every fleeting glance which he cast at Monsieur Frost as + a mute inquiry: “Why has this fellow come to see me?” + </p> + <p> + After some conversation he remarked that his father and mother were at + home. Would I not like to visit them too? + </p> + <p> + “First I will go and dress myself,” he added as he departed to another + room, notwithstanding that he had seemed to be perfectly well dressed (in + a new frockcoat and white waistcoat) in the present one. A few minutes + later he reappeared in his University uniform, buttoned up to the chin, + and we went downstairs together. The reception rooms through which we + passed were lofty and of great size, and seemed to be richly furnished + with marble and gilt ornaments, chintz-covered settees, and a number of + mirrors. Presently Madame Iwin met us, and we went into a little room + behind the drawing-room, where, welcoming me in very friendly fashion, she + seated herself by my side, and began to inquire after my relations. + </p> + <p> + Closer acquaintance with Madame (whom I had seen only twice before, and + that but for a moment on each occasion) impressed me favourably. She was + tall, thin, and very pale, and looked as though she suffered from chronic + depression and fatigue. Yet, though her smile was a sad one, it was very + kind, and her large, mournful eyes, with a slight cast in their vision, + added to the pathos and attractiveness of her expression. Her attitude, + while not precisely that of a hunchback, made her whole form droop, while + her every movement expressed languor. Likewise, though her speech was + deliberate, the timbre of her voice, and the manner in which she lisped + her r’s and l’s, were very pleasing to the ear. Finally, she did not + “ENTERTAIN” me. Unfortunately, the answers which I returned to her + questions concerning my relations seemed to afford her a painful interest, + and to remind her of happier days: with the result that when, presently, + her son left the room, she gazed at me in silence for a moment, and then + burst into tears. As I sat there in mute bewilderment, I could not + conceive what I had said to bring this about. At first I felt sorry for + her as she sat there weeping with downcast eyes. Next I began to think to + myself: “Ought I not to try and comfort her, and how ought that to be + done?” Finally, I began to feel vexed with her for placing me in such an + awkward position. “Surely my appearance is not so moving as all that?” I + reflected. “Or is she merely acting like this to see what I shall do under + the circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it would not do for me to go,” I continued to myself, “for that would + look too much as though I were fleeing to escape her tears.” Accordingly I + began fidgeting about on my seat, in order to remind her of my presence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how foolish of me!” at length she said, as she gazed at me for a + moment and tried to smile. “There are days when one weeps for no reason + whatever.” She felt about for her handkerchief, and then burst out weeping + more violently than before. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear! How silly of me to be for ever crying like this! Yet I was so + fond of your mother! We were such friends! We-we—” + </p> + <p> + At this point she found her handkerchief, and, burying her face in it, + went on crying. Once more I found myself in the same protracted dilemma. + Though vexed, I felt sorry for her, since her tears appeared to be genuine—even + though I also had an idea that it was not so much for my mother that she + was weeping as for the fact that she was unhappy, and had known happier + days. How it would all have ended I do not know, had not her son + reappeared and said that his father desired to see her. Thereupon she + rose, and was just about to leave the room, when the General himself + entered. He was a small, grizzled, thick-set man, with bushy black + eyebrows, a grey, close-cropped head, and a very stern, haughty expression + of countenance. + </p> + <p> + I rose and bowed to him, but the General (who was wearing three stars on + his green frockcoat) not only made no response to my salutation, but + scarcely even looked at me; so that all at once I felt as though I were + not a human being at all, but only some negligible object such as a settee + or window; or, if I were a human being, as though I were quite + indistinguishable from such a negligible object. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have not yet written to the Countess, my dear?” he said to his + wife in French, and with an imperturbable, yet determined, expression on + his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Monsieur Irtenieff,” Madame said to me, in her turn, as she + made a proud gesture with her head and looked at my eyebrows just as her + son had done. I bowed to her, and again to her husband, but my second + salutation made no more impression upon him than if a window had just been + opened or closed. Nevertheless the younger Iwin accompanied me to the + door, and on the way told me that he was to go to St. Petersburg + University, since his father had been appointed to a post in that city + (and young Iwin named a very high office in the service). + </p> + <p> + “Well, his Papa may do whatsoever he likes,” I muttered to myself as I + climbed into the drozhki, “but at all events I will never set foot in that + house again. His wife weeps and looks at me as though I were the + embodiment of woe, while that old pig of a General does not even give me a + bow. However, I will get even with him some day.” How I meant to do that I + do not know, but my words nevertheless came true. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards, I frequently found it necessary to remember the advice of my + father when he said that I must cultivate the acquaintanceship of the + Iwins, and not expect a man in the position of General Iwin to pay any + attention to a boy like myself. But I had figured in that position long + enough. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. PRINCE IVAN IVANOVITCH + </h2> + <p> + “Now for the last call—the visit to Nikitskaia Street,” I said to + Kuzma, and we started for Prince Ivan Ivanovitch’s mansion. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end, a round of calls usually brings one a certain amount of + self-assurance: consequently I was approaching the Prince’s abode in quite + a tranquil frame of mind, when suddenly I remembered the Princess + Kornakoff’s words that I was his heir, and at the same moment caught sight + of two carriages waiting at the portico. Instantly, my former nervousness + returned. + </p> + <p> + Both the old major-domo who opened the door to me, and the footman who + took my coat, and the two male and three female visitors whom I found in + the drawing-room, and, most of all, Prince Ivan Ivanovitch himself (whom I + found clad in a “company” frockcoat and seated on a sofa) seemed to look + at me as at an HEIR, and so to eye me with ill-will. Yet the Prince was + very gracious and, after kissing me (that is to say, after pressing his + cold, dry, flabby lips to my cheek for a second), asked me about my plans + and pursuits, jested with me, inquired whether I still wrote verses of the + kind which I used to indite in honour of my grandmother’s birthdays, and + invited me to dine with him that day. Nevertheless, in proportion as he + grew the kinder, the more did I feel persuaded that his civility was only + intended to conceal from me the fact that he disliked the idea of my being + his heir. He had a custom (due to his false teeth, of which his mouth + possessed a complete set) of raising his upper lip a little as he spoke, + and producing a slight whistling sound from it; and whenever, on the + present occasion, he did so it seemed to me that he was saying to himself: + “A boy, a boy—I know it! And my heir, too—my heir!” + </p> + <p> + When we were children, we had been used to calling the Prince “dear + Uncle;” but now, in my capacity of heir, I could not bring my tongue to + the phrase, while to say “Your Highness,” as did one of the other + visitors, seemed derogatory to my self-esteem. Consequently, never once + during that visit did I call him anything at all. The personage, however, + who most disturbed me was the old Princess who shared with me the position + of prospective inheritor, and who lived in the Prince’s house. While + seated beside her at dinner, I felt firmly persuaded that the reason why + she would not speak to me was that she disliked me for being her co-heir, + and that the Prince, for his part, paid no attention to our side of the + table for the reason that the Princess and myself hoped to succeed him, + and so were alike distasteful in his sight. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot think how I hated it all!” I said to Dimitrieff the same + evening, in a desire to make a parade of disliking the notion of being an + heir (somehow I thought it the thing to do). “You cannot think how I + loathed the whole two hours that I spent there!—Yet he is a + fine-looking old fellow, and was very kind to me,” I added—wishing, + among other things, to disabuse my friend of any possible idea that my + loathing had arisen out of the fact that I had felt so small. “It is only + the idea that people may be classing me with the Princess who lives with + him, and who licks the dust off his boots. He is a wonderful old man, and + good and considerate to everybody, but it is awful to see how he treats + the Princess. Money is a detestable thing, and ruins all human relations. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, I think it would be far the best thing for me to have an + open explanation with the Prince,” I went on; “to tell him that I respect + him as a man, but think nothing of being his heir, and that I desire him + to leave me nothing, since that is the only condition on which I can, in + future, visit his house.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of bursting out laughing when I said this, Dimitri pondered awhile + in silence, and then answered: + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong. Either you ought to refrain from supposing that people may + be classing you with this Princess of whom you speak, or, if you DO + suppose such a thing, you ought to suppose further that people are + thinking what you yourself know quite well—namely, that such + thoughts are so utterly foreign to your nature that you despise them and + would never make them a basis for action. Suppose, however, that people DO + suppose you to suppose such a thing—Well, to sum up,” he added, + feeling that he was getting a little mixed in his pronouncements, “you had + much better not suppose anything of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + My friend was perfectly right, though it was not until long, long + afterwards that experience of life taught me the evil that comes of + thinking—still worse, of saying—much that seems very fine; + taught me that there are certain thoughts which should always be kept to + oneself, since brave words seldom go with brave deeds. I learnt then that + the mere fact of giving utterance to a good intention often makes it + difficult, nay, impossible, to carry that good intention into effect. Yet + how is one to refrain from giving utterance to the brave, self-sufficient + impulses of youth? Only long afterwards does one remember and regret them, + even as one incontinently plucks a flower before its blooming, and + subsequently finds it lying crushed and withered on the ground. + </p> + <p> + The very next morning I, who had just been telling my friend Dimitri that + money corrupts all human relations, and had (as we have seen) squandered + the whole of my cash on pictures and Turkish pipes, accepted a loan of + twenty roubles which he suggested should pay for my travelling expenses + into the country, and remained a long while thereafter in his debt! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. INTIMATE CONVERSATION WITH MY FRIEND + </h2> + <p> + THIS conversation of ours took place in a phaeton on the way to Kuntsevo. + Dimitri had invited me in the morning to go with him to his mother’s, and + had called for me after luncheon; the idea being that I should spend the + evening, and perhaps also pass the night, at the country-house where his + family lived. Only when we had left the city and exchanged its grimy + streets and the unbearably deafening clatter of its pavements for the open + vista of fields and the subdued grinding of carriage-wheels on a dusty + high road (while the sweet spring air and prospect enveloped us on every + side) did I awake from the new impressions and sensations of freedom into + which the past two days had plunged me. Dimitri was in his kind and + sociable mood. That is to say, he was neither frowning nor blinking + nervously nor straightening his neck in his collar. For my own part, I was + congratulating myself on those noble sentiments which I have expressed + above, in the belief that they had led him to overlook my shameful + encounter with Kolpikoff, and to refrain from despising me for it. Thus we + talked together on many an intimate subject which even a friend seldom + mentions to a friend. He told me about his family whose acquaintance I had + not yet made—about his mother, his aunt, and his sister, as also + about her whom Woloda and Dubkoff believed to be his “flame,” and always + spoke of as “the lady with the chestnut locks.” Of his mother he spoke + with a certain cold and formal commendation, as though to forestall any + further mention of her; his aunt he extolled enthusiastically, though with + a touch of condescension in his tone; his sister he scarcely mentioned at + all, as though averse to doing so in my presence; but on the subject of + “the lady with the chestnut locks” (whose real name was Lubov Sergievna, + and who was a grown-up young lady living on a family footing with the + Nechludoffs) he discoursed with animation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is a wonderful woman,” he said with a conscious reddening of the + face, yet looking me in the eyes with dogged temerity. “True, she is no + longer young, and even rather elderly, as well as by no means + good-looking; but as for loving a mere featherhead, a mere beauty—well, + I never could understand that, for it is such a silly thing to do.” + (Dimitri said this as though he had just discovered a most novel and + extraordinary truth.) “I am certain, too, that such a soul, such a heart + and principles, as are hers are not to be found elsewhere in the world of + the present day.” (I do not know whence he had derived the habit of saying + that few good things were discoverable in the world of the present day, + but at all events he loved to repeat the expression, and it somehow suited + him.) + </p> + <p> + “Only, I am afraid,” he went on quietly, after thus annihilating all such + men as were foolish enough to admire mere beauty, “I am afraid that you + will not understand or realise her quickly. She is modest, even secretive, + and by no means fond of exhibiting her beautiful and surprising qualities. + Now, my mother—who, as you will see, is a noble, sensible woman—has + known Lubov Sergievna, for many years; yet even to this day she does not + properly understand her. Shall I tell you why I was out of temper last + evening when you were questioning me? Well, you must know that the day + before yesterday Lubov asked me to accompany her to Ivan Yakovlevitch’s + (you have heard of him, I suppose? the fellow who seems to be mad, but + who, in reality, is a very remarkable man). Well, Lubov is extremely + religious, and understands Ivan Yakovlevitch to the full. She often goes + to see him, and converses with him, and gives him money for the poor—money + which she has earned herself. She is a marvellous woman, as you will see. + Well, I went with her to Ivan’s, and felt very grateful to her for having + afforded me the opportunity of exchanging a word with so remarkable a man; + but my mother could not understand our action at all, and discerned in it + only superstition. Consequently, last night she and I quarrelled for the + first time in our lives. A very bitter one it was, too,” he concluded, + with a convulsive shrug of his shoulders, as though the mention of it + recalled the feelings which he had then experienced. + </p> + <p> + “And what are your intentions about it all?” I inquired, to divert him + from such a disagreeable recollection. “That is to say, how do you imagine + it is going to turn out? Do you ever speak to her about the future, or + about how your love or friendship are going to end?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, do I intend to marry her eventually?” he inquired, in his + turn, with a renewed blush, but turning himself round and looking me + boldly in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly,” I replied as I settled myself down. “We are both of us + grown-up, as well as friends, so we may as well discuss our future life as + we drive along. No one could very well overlook or overhear us now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I NOT marry her?” he went on in response to my reassuring + reply. “It is my aim—as it should be the aim of every honourable man—to + be as good and as happy as possible; and with her, if she should still be + willing when I have become more independent, I should be happier and + better than with the greatest beauty in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Absorbed in such conversation, we hardly noticed that we were approaching + Kuntsevo, or that the sky was becoming overcast and beginning to threaten + rain. On the right, the sun was slowly sinking behind the ancient trees of + the Kuntsevo park—one half of its brilliant disc obscured with grey, + subluminous cloud, and the other half sending forth spokes of flaming + light which threw the old trees into striking relief as they stood there + with their dense crowns of green showing against a blue patch of sky. The + light and shimmer of that patch contrasted sharply with the heavy pink + cloud which lay massed above a young birch-tree visible on the horizon + before us, while, a little further to the right, the parti-coloured roofs + of the Kuntsevo mansion could be seen projecting above a belt of trees and + undergrowth—one side of them reflecting the glittering rays of the + sun, and the other side harmonising with the more louring portion of the + heavens. Below us, and to the left, showed the still blue of a pond where + it lay surrounded with pale-green laburnums—its dull, + concave-looking depths repeating the trees in more sombre shades of colour + over the surface of a hillock. Beyond the water spread the black expanse + of a ploughed field, with the straight line of a dark-green ridge by which + it was bisected running far into the distance, and there joining the + leaden, threatening horizon. + </p> + <p> + On either side of the soft road along which the phaeton was pursuing the + even tenour of its way, bright-green, tangled, juicy belts of rye were + sprouting here and there into stalk. Not a motion was perceptible in the + air, only a sweet freshness, and everything looked extraordinarily clear + and bright. Near the road I could see a little brown path winding its way + among the dark-green, quarter-grown stems of rye, and somehow that path + reminded me vividly of our village, and somehow (through some connection + of thought) the idea of that village reminded me vividly of Sonetchka, and + so of the fact that I was in love with her. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding my fondness for Dimitri and the pleasure which his + frankness had afforded me, I now felt as though I desired to hear no more + about his feelings and intentions with regard to Lubov Sergievna, but to + talk unstintedly about my own love for Sonetchka, who seemed to me an + object of affection of a far higher order. Yet for some reason or another + I could not make up my mind to tell him straight out how splendid it would + seem when I had married Sonetchka and we were living in the country—of + how we should have little children who would crawl about the floor and + call me Papa, and of how delighted I should be when he, Dimitri, brought + his wife, Lubov Sergievna, to see us, wearing an expensive gown. + Accordingly, instead of saying all that, I pointed to the setting sun, and + merely remarked: “Look, Dimitri! How splendid!” + </p> + <p> + To this, however, Dimitri made no reply, since he was evidently + dissatisfied at my answering his confession (which it had cost him much to + make) by directing his attention to natural objects (to which he was, in + general, indifferent). Upon him Nature had an effect altogether different + to what she had upon myself, for she affected him rather by her industry + than by her beauty—he loved her rather with his intellect than with + his senses. + </p> + <p> + “I am absolutely happy,” I went on, without noticing that he was + altogether taken up with his own thoughts and oblivious of anything that I + might be saying. “You will remember how told you about a girl with whom I + used to be in love when was a little boy? Well, I saw her again only this + morning, and am now infatuated with her.” Then I told him—despite + his continued expression of indifference—about my love, and about + all my plans for my future connubial happiness. Strangely enough, no + sooner had I related in detail the whole strength of my feelings than I + instantly became conscious of its diminution. + </p> + <p> + The rain overtook us just as we were turning into the avenue of + birch-trees which led to the house, but it did not really wet us. I only + knew that it was raining by the fact that I felt a drop fall, first on my + nose, and then on my hand, and heard something begin to patter upon the + young, viscous leaves of the birch-trees as, drooping their curly branches + overhead, they seemed to imbibe the pure, shining drops with an avidity + which filled the whole avenue with scent. We descended from the carriage, + so as to reach the house the quicker through the garden, but found + ourselves confronted at the entrance-door by four ladies, two of whom were + knitting, one reading a book, and the fourth walking to and fro with a + little dog. Thereupon, Dimitri began to present me to his mother, sister, + and aunt, as well as to Lubov Sergievna. For a moment they remained where + they were, but almost instantly the rain became heavier. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go into the verandah; you can present him to us there,” said the + lady whom I took to be Dimitri’s mother, and we all of us ascended the + entrance-steps. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. THE NECHLUDOFFS + </h2> + <p> + From the first, the member of this company who struck me the most was + Lubov Sergievna, who, holding a lapdog in her arms and wearing stout laced + boots, was the last of the four ladies to ascend the staircase, and twice + stopped to gaze at me intently and then kiss her little dog. She was + anything but good-looking, since she was red-haired, thin, short, and + slightly crooked. What made her plain face all the plainer was the queer + way in which her hair was parted to one side (it looked like the wigs + which bald women contrive for themselves). However much I should have + liked to applaud my friend, I could not find a single comely feature in + her. Even her brown eyes, though expressive of good-humour, were small and + dull—were, in fact, anything but pretty; while her hands (those most + characteristic of features), were though neither large nor ill-shaped, + coarse and red. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we reached the verandah, each of the ladies, except Dimitri’s + sister Varenika—who also had been regarding me attentively out of + her large, dark-grey eyes—said a few words to me before resuming her + occupation, while Varenika herself began to read aloud from a book which + she held on her lap and steadied with her finger. + </p> + <p> + The Princess Maria Ivanovna was a tall, well-built woman of forty. To + judge by the curls of half-grey hair which descended below her cap one + might have taken her for more, but as soon as ever one observed the fresh, + extraordinarily tender, and almost wrinkleless face, as well as, most of + all, the lively, cheerful sparkle of the large eyes, one involuntarily + took her for less. Her eyes were black and very frank, her lips thin and + slightly severe, her nose regular and slightly inclined to the left, and + her hands ringless, large, and almost like those of a man, but with finely + tapering fingers. She wore a dark-blue dress fastened to the throat and + sitting closely to her firm, still youthful waist—a waist which she + evidently pinched. Lastly, she held herself very upright, and was knitting + a garment of some kind. As soon as I stepped on to the verandah she took + me by the hand, drew me to her as though wishing to scrutinise me more + closely, and said, as she gazed at me with the same cold, candid glance as + her son’s, that she had long known me by report from Dimitri, and that + therefore, in order to make my acquaintance thoroughly, she had invited me + to stay these twenty-four hours in her house. + </p> + <p> + “Do just as you please here,” she said, “and stand on no ceremony whatever + with us, even as we shall stand on none with you. Pray walk, read, listen, + or sleep as the mood may take you.” + </p> + <p> + Sophia Ivanovna was an old maid and the Princess’s younger sister, though + she looked the elder of the two. She had that exceedingly overstuffed + appearance which old maids always present who are short of stature but + wear corsets. It seemed as though her healthiness had shifted upwards to + the point of choking her, her short, fat hands would not meet below her + projecting bust, and the line of her waist was scarcely visible at all. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding that the Princess Maria Ivanovna had black hair and eyes, + while Sophia Ivanovna had white hair and large, vivacious, tranquilly blue + eyes (a rare combination), there was a great likeness between the two + sisters, for they had the same expression, nose, and lips. The only + difference was that Sophia’s nose and lips were a trifle coarser than + Maria’s, and that, when she smiled, those features inclined towards the + right, whereas Maria’s inclined towards the left. Sophia, to judge by her + dress and coiffure, was still youthful at heart, and would never have + displayed grey curls, even if she had possessed them. Yet at first her + glance and bearing towards me seemed very proud, and made me nervous, + whereas I at once felt at home with the Princess. Perhaps it was only + Sophia’s stoutness and a certain resemblance to portraits of Catherine the + Great that gave her, in my eyes, a haughty aspect, but at all events I + felt quite intimidated when she looked at me intently and said, “Friends + of our friends are our friends also.” I became reassured and changed my + opinion about her only when, after saying those words, she opened her + mouth and sighed deeply. It may be that she owed her habit of sighing + after every few words—with a great distention of the mouth and a + slight drooping of her large blue eyes—to her stoutness, yet it was + none the less one which expressed so much good-humour that I at once lost + all fear of her, and found her actually attractive. Her eyes were + charming, her voice pleasant and musical, and even the flowing lines of + her fullness seemed to my youthful vision not wholly lacking in beauty. + </p> + <p> + I had imagined that Lubov Sergievna, as my friend’s friend, would at once + say something friendly and familiar to me; yet, after gazing at me fixedly + for a while, as though in doubt whether the remark she was about to make + to me would not be too friendly, she at length asked me what faculty I was + in. After that she stared at me as before, in evident hesitation as to + whether or not to say something civil and familiar, until, remarking her + perplexity, I besought her with a look to speak freely. Yet all she then + said was, “They tell me the Universities pay very little attention to + science now,” and turned away to call her little dog. + </p> + <p> + All that evening she spoke only in disjointed fragments of this kind—fragments + which had no connection either with the point or with one another; yet I + had such faith in Dimitri, and he so often kept looking from her to me + with an expression which mutely asked me, “Now, what do you think of + that?” that, though I entirely failed to persuade myself that in Lubov + Sergievna there was anything to speak of, I could not bear to express the + thought, even to myself. + </p> + <p> + As for the last member of the family, Varenika, she was a well-developed + girl of sixteen. The only good features in her were a pair of dark-grey + eyes,—which, in their expression of gaiety mingled with quiet + attention, greatly resembled those of her aunt—a long coil of flaxen + hair, and extremely delicate, beautiful hands. + </p> + <p> + “I expect, Monsieur Nicolas, you find it wearisome to hear a story begun + from the middle?” said Sophia Ivanovna with her good-natured sigh as she + turned over some pieces of clothing which she was sewing. The reading + aloud had ceased for the moment because Dimitri had left the room on some + errand or another. + </p> + <p> + “Or perhaps you have read Rob Roy before?” she added. + </p> + <p> + At that period I thought it incumbent upon me, in virtue of my student’s + uniform, to reply in a very “clever and original” manner to every question + put to me by people whom I did not know very well, and regarded such + short, clear answers as “Yes,” “No,” “I like it,” or “I do not care for + it,” as things to be ashamed of. Accordingly, looking down at my new and + fashionably-cut trousers and the glittering buttons of my tunic, I replied + that I had never read Rob Roy, but that it interested me greatly to hear + it, since I preferred to read books from the middle rather than from the + beginning. + </p> + <p> + “It is twice as interesting,” I added with a self-satisfied smirk; “for + then one can guess what has gone before as well as what is to come after.” + </p> + <p> + The Princess smiled what I thought was a forced smile, but one which I + discovered later to be her only one. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps that is true,” she said. “But tell me, Nicolas (you will + not be offended if I drop the Monsieur)—tell me, are you going to be + in town long? When do you go away?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know quite. Perhaps to-morrow, or perhaps not for some while + yet,” I replied for some reason or another, though I knew perfectly well + that in reality we were to go to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could stop longer, both for your own sake and for Dimitri’s,” + she said in a meditative manner. “At your age friendship is a weak thing.” + </p> + <p> + I felt that every one was looking at me, and waiting to see what I should + say—though certainly Varenika made a pretence of looking at her + aunt’s work. I felt, in fact, as though I were being put through an + examination, and that it behoved me to figure in it as well as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to ME Dimitri’s friendship is most useful,” I replied, “but to HIM + mine cannot be of any use at all, since he is a thousand times better than + I.” (Dimitri could not hear what I said, or I should have feared his + detecting the insincerity of my words.) + </p> + <p> + Again the Princess smiled her unnatural, yet characteristically natural, + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Just listen to him!” she said. “But it is YOU who are the little monster + of perfection.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Monster of perfection,’” I thought to myself. “That is splendid. I must + make a note of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, to dismiss yourself, he has been extraordinarily clever in that + quarter,” she went on in a lower tone (which pleased me somehow) as she + indicated Lubov Sergievna with her eyes, “since he has discovered in our + poor little Auntie” (such was the pet name which they gave Lubov) “all + sorts of perfections which I, who have known her and her little dog for + twenty years, had never yet suspected. Varenika, go and tell them to bring + me a glass of water,” she added, letting her eyes wander again. Probably + she had bethought her that it was too soon, or not entirely necessary, to + let me into all the family secrets. “Yet no—let HIM go, for he has + nothing to do, while you are reading. Pray go to the door, my friend,” she + said to me, “and walk about fifteen steps down the passage. Then halt and + call out pretty loudly, ‘Peter, bring Maria Ivanovna a glass of iced + water’”—and she smiled her curious smile once more. + </p> + <p> + “I expect she wants to say something about me in my absence,” I thought to + myself as I left the room. “I expect she wants to remark that she can see + very clearly that I am a very, very clever young man.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had I taken a dozen steps when I was overtaken by Sophia Ivanovna, + who, though fat and short of breath, trod with surprising lightness and + agility. + </p> + <p> + “Merci, mon cher,” she said. “I will go and tell them myself.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. LOVE + </h2> + <p> + SOPHIA IVANOVNA, as I afterwards came to know her, was one of those rare, + young-old women who are born for family life, but to whom that happiness + has been denied by fate. Consequently all that store of their love which + should have been poured out upon a husband and children becomes pent up in + their hearts, until they suddenly decide to let it overflow upon a few + chosen individuals. Yet so inexhaustible is that store of old maids’ love + that, despite the number of individuals so selected, there still remains + an abundant surplus of affection which they lavish upon all by whom they + are surrounded—upon all, good or bad, whom they may chance to meet + in their daily life. + </p> + <p> + Of love there are three kinds—love of beauty, the love which denies + itself, and practical love. + </p> + <p> + Of the desire of a young man for a young woman, as well as of the reverse + instance, I am not now speaking, for of such tendresses I am wary, seeing + that I have been too unhappy in my life to have been able ever to see in + such affection a single spark of truth, but rather a lying pretence in + which sensuality, connubial relations, money, and the wish to bind hands + or to unloose them have rendered feeling such a complex affair as to defy + analysis. Rather am I speaking of that love for a human being which, + according to the spiritual strength of its possessor, concentrates itself + either upon a single individual, upon a few, or upon many—of love + for a mother, a father, a brother, little children, a friend, a compatriot—of + love, in short, for one’s neighbour. + </p> + <p> + Love of beauty consists in a love of the sense of beauty and of its + expression. People who thus love conceive the object of their affection to + be desirable only in so far as it arouses in them that pleasurable + sensation of which the consciousness and the expression soothes the + senses. They change the object of their love frequently, since their + principal aim consists in ensuring that the voluptuous feeling of their + adoration shall be constantly titillated. To preserve in themselves this + sensuous condition, they talk unceasingly, and in the most elegant terms, + on the subject of the love which they feel, not only for its immediate + object, but also for objects upon which it does not touch at all. This + country of ours contains many such individuals—individuals of that + well-known class who, cultivating “the beautiful,” not only discourse of + their cult to all and sundry, but speak of it pre-eminently in FRENCH. It + may seem a strange and ridiculous thing to say, but I am convinced that + among us we have had in the past, and still have, a large section of + society—notably women—whose love for their friends, husbands, + or children would expire to-morrow if they were debarred from dilating + upon it in the tongue of France! + </p> + <p> + Love of the second kind—renunciatory love—consists in a + yearning to undergo self-sacrifice for the object beloved, regardless of + any consideration whether such self-sacrifice will benefit or injure the + object in question. “There is no evil which I would not endure to show + both the world and him or her whom I adore my devotion.” There we have the + formula of this kind of love. People who thus love never look for + reciprocity of affection, since it is a finer thing to sacrifice yourself + for one who does not comprehend you. Also, they are always painfully eager + to exaggerate the merits of their sacrifice; usually constant in their + love, for the reason that they would find it hard to forego the kudos of + the deprivations which they endure for the object beloved; always ready to + die, to prove to him or to her the entirety of their devotion; but sparing + of such small daily proofs of their love as call for no special effort of + self-immolation. They do not much care whether you eat well, sleep well, + keep your spirits up, or enjoy good health, nor do they ever do anything + to obtain for you those blessings if they have it in their power; but, + should you be confronting a bullet, or have fallen into the water, or + stand in danger of being burnt, or have had your heart broken in a love + affair—well, for all these things they are prepared if the occasion + should arise. Moreover, people addicted to love of such a self-sacrificing + order are invariably proud of their love, exacting, jealous, distrustful, + and—strange to tell—anxious that the object of their adoration + should incur perils (so that they may save it from calamity, and console + it thereafter) and even be vicious (so that they may purge it of its + vice). + </p> + <p> + Suppose, now, that you are living in the country with a wife who loves you + in this self-sacrificing manner. You may be healthy and contented, and + have occupations which interest you, while, on the other hand, your wife + may be too weak to superintend the household work (which, in consequence, + will be left to the servants), or to look after the children (who, in + consequence, will be left to the nurses), or to put her heart into any + work whatsoever: and all because she loves nobody and nothing but + yourself. She may be patently ill, yet she will say not a word to you + about it, for fear of distressing you. She may be patently ennuyee, yet + for your sake she will be prepared to be so for the rest of her life. She + may be patently depressed because you stick so persistently to your + occupations (whether sport, books, farming, state service, or anything + else) and see clearly that they are doing you harm; yet, for all that, she + will keep silence, and suffer it to be so. Yet, should you but fall sick—and, + despite her own ailments and your prayers that she will not distress + herself in vain, your loving wife will remain sitting inseparably by your + bedside. Every moment you will feel her sympathetic gaze resting upon you + and, as it were, saying: “There! I told you so, but it is all one to me, + and I shall not leave you.” In the morning you maybe a little better, and + move into another room. The room, however, will be insufficiently warmed + or set in order; the soup which alone you feel you could eat will not have + been cooked; nor will any medicine have been sent for. Yet, though worn + out with night watching, your loving wife will continue to regard you with + an expression of sympathy, to walk about on tiptoe, and to whisper + unaccustomed and obscure orders to the servants. You may wish to be read + to—and your loving wife will tell you with a sigh that she feels + sure you will be unable to hear her reading, and only grow angry at her + awkwardness in doing it; wherefore you had better not be read to at all. + You may wish to walk about the room—and she will tell you that it + would be far better for you not to do so. You may wish to talk with some + friends who have called—and she will tell you that talking is not + good for you. At nightfall the fever may come upon you again, and you may + wish to be left alone whereupon your loving wife, though wasted, pale, and + full of yawns, will go on sitting in a chair opposite you, as dusk falls, + until her very slightest movement, her very slightest sound, rouses you to + feelings of anger and impatience. You may have a servant who has lived + with you for twenty years, and to whom you are attached, and who would + tend you well and to your satisfaction during the night, for the reason + that he has been asleep all day and is, moreover, paid a salary for his + services; yet your wife will not suffer him to wait upon you. No; + everything she must do herself with her weak, unaccustomed fingers (of + which you follow the movements with suppressed irritation as those pale + members do their best to uncork a medicine bottle, to snuff a candle, to + pour out physic, or to touch you in a squeamish sort of way). If you are + an impatient, hasty sort of man, and beg of her to leave the room, you + will hear by the vexed, distressed sounds which come from her that she is + humbly sobbing and weeping behind the door, and whispering foolishness of + some kind to the servant. Finally if you do not die, your loving wife—who + has not slept during the whole three weeks of your illness (a fact of + which she will constantly remind you)—will fall ill in her turn, + waste away, suffer much, and become even more incapable of any useful + pursuit than she was before; while by the time that you have regained your + normal state of health she will express to you her self-sacrificing + affection only by shedding around you a kind of benignant dullness which + involuntarily communicates itself both to yourself and to every one else + in your vicinity. + </p> + <p> + The third kind of love—practical love—consists of a yearning + to satisfy every need, every desire, every caprice, nay, every vice, of + the being beloved. People who love thus always love their life long, + since, the more they love, the more they get to know the object beloved, + and the easier they find the task of loving it—that is to say, of + satisfying its desires. Their love seldom finds expression in words, but + if it does so, it expresses itself neither with assurance nor beauty, but + rather in a shamefaced, awkward manner, since people of this kind + invariably have misgivings that they are loving unworthily. People of this + kind love even the faults of their adored one, for the reason that those + faults afford them the power of constantly satisfying new desires. They + look for their affection to be returned, and even deceive themselves into + believing that it is returned, and are happy accordingly: yet in the + reverse case they will still continue to desire happiness for their + beloved one, and try by every means in their power—whether moral or + material, great or small—to provide it. + </p> + <p> + Such practical love it was—love for her nephew, for her niece, for + her sister, for Lubov Sergievna, and even for myself, because I loved + Dimitri—that shone in the eyes, as well as in the every word and + movement, of Sophia Ivanovna. + </p> + <p> + Only long afterwards did I learn to value her at her true worth. Yet even + now the question occurred to me: “What has made Dimitri—who + throughout has tried to understand love differently to other young + fellows, and has always had before his eyes the gentle, loving Sophia + Ivanovna—suddenly fall so deeply in love with the incomprehensible + Lubov Sergievna, and declare that in his aunt he can only find good + QUALITIES? Verily it is a true saying that ‘a prophet hath no honour in + his own country.’ One of two things: either every man has in him more of + bad than of good, or every man is more receptive to bad than to good. + Lubov Sergievna he has not known for long, whereas his aunt’s love he has + known since the day of his birth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. I BECOME BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE NECHLUDOFFS + </h2> + <p> + WHEN I returned to the verandah, I found that they were not talking of me + at all, as I had anticipated. On the contrary, Varenika had laid aside the + book, and was engaged in a heated dispute with Dimitri, who, for his part, + was walking up and down the verandah, and frowningly adjusting his neck in + his collar as he did so. The subject of the quarrel seemed to be Ivan + Yakovlevitch and superstition, but it was too animated a difference for + its underlying cause not to be something which concerned the family much + more nearly. Although the Princess and Lubov Sergievna were sitting by in + silence, they were following every word, and evidently tempted at times to + take part in the dispute; yet always, just when they were about to speak, + they checked themselves, and left the field clear for the two principles, + Dimitri and Varenika. On my entry, the latter glanced at me with such an + indifferent air that I could see she was wholly absorbed in the quarrel + and did not care whether she spoke in my presence or not. The Princess too + looked the same, and was clearly on Varenika’s side, while Dimitri began, + if anything, to raise his voice still more when I appeared, and Lubov + Sergievna, for her part, observed to no one in particular: “Old people are + quite right when they say, ‘Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait.’” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless this quotation did not check the dispute, though it somehow + gave me the impression that the side represented by the speaker and her + friend was in the wrong. Although it was a little awkward for me to be + present at a petty family difference, the fact that the true relations of + the family revealed themselves during its progress, and that my presence + did nothing to hinder that revelation, afforded me considerable + gratification. + </p> + <p> + How often it happens that for years one sees a family cover themselves + over with a conventional cloak of decorum, and preserve the real relations + of its members a secret from every eye! How often, too, have I remarked + that, the more impenetrable (and therefore the more decorous) is the + cloak, the harsher are the relations which it conceals! Yet, once let some + unexpected question—often a most trivial one (the colour of a + woman’s hair, a visit, a man’s horses, and so forth)—arise in that + family circle, and without any visible cause there will also arise an + ever-growing difference, until in time the cloak of decorum becomes + unequal to confining the quarrel within due bounds, and, to the dismay of + the disputants and the astonishment of the auditors, the real and + ill-adjusted relations of the family are laid bare, and the cloak, now + useless for concealment, is bandied from hand to hand among the contending + factions until it serves only to remind one of the years during which it + successfully deceived one’s perceptions. Sometimes to strike one’s head + violently against a ceiling hurts one less than just to graze some spot + which has been hurt and bruised before: and in almost every family there + exists some such raw and tender spot. In the Nechludoff family that spot + was Dimitri’s extraordinary affection for Lubov Sergievna, which aroused + in the mother and sister, if not a jealous feeling, at all events a sense + of hurt family pride. This was the grave significance which underlay, for + all those present, the seeming dispute about Ivan Yakovlevitch and + superstition. + </p> + <p> + “In anything that other people deride and despise you invariably profess + to see something extraordinarily good!” Varenika was saying in her clear + voice, as she articulated each syllable with careful precision. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” retorted Dimitri with an impatient toss of his head. “Now, in + the first place, only a most unthinking person could ever speak of + DESPISING such a remarkable man as Ivan Yakovlevitch, while, in the second + place, it is YOU who invariably profess to see nothing good in what + confronts you.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Sophia Ivanovna kept looking anxiously at us as she turned first + to her nephew, and then to her niece, and then to myself. Twice she opened + her mouth as though to say what was in her mind and drew a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Varia, PLEASE go on reading,” she said at length, at the same time + handing her niece the book, and patting her hand kindly. “I wish to know + whether he ever found HER again” (as a matter of fact, the novel in + question contained not a word about any one finding any one else). “And, + Mitia dear,” she added to her nephew, despite the glum looks which he was + throwing at her for having interrupted the logical thread of his + deductions, “you had better let me poultice your cheek, or your teeth will + begin to ache again.” + </p> + <p> + After that the reading was resumed. Yet the quarrel had in no way + dispelled the calm atmosphere of family and intellectual harmony which + enveloped this circle of ladies. + </p> + <p> + Clearly deriving its inspiration and character from the Princess Maria + Ivanovna, it was a circle which, for me, had a wholly novel and attractive + character of logicalness mingled with simplicity and refinement. That + character I could discern in the daintiness, good taste, and solidity of + everything about me, whether the handbell, the binding of the book, the + settee, or the table. Likewise, I divined it in the upright, well-corseted + pose of the Princess, in her pendant curls of grey hair, in the manner in + which she had, at our first introduction, called me plain “Nicolas” and + “he,” in the occupations of the ladies (the reading and the sewing of + garments), and in the unusual whiteness of their hands. Those hands, en + passant, showed a family feature common to all—namely, the feature + that the flesh of the palm on the outer side was rosy in colour, and + divided by a sharp, straight line from the pure whiteness of the upper + portion of the hand. Still more was the character of this feminine circle + expressed in the manner in which the three ladies spoke Russian and French—spoke + them, that is to say, with perfect articulation of syllables and pedantic + accuracy of substantives and prepositions. All this, and more especially + the fact that the ladies treated me as simply and as seriously as a real + grown-up—telling me their opinions, and listening to my own (a thing + to which I was so little accustomed that, for all my glittering buttons + and blue facings, I was in constant fear of being told: “Surely you do not + think that we are talking SERIOUSLY to you? Go away and learn something”)—all + this, I say, caused me to feel an entire absence of restraint in this + society. I ventured at times to rise, to move about, and to talk boldly to + each of the ladies except Varenika (whom I always felt it was unbecoming, + or even forbidden, for me to address unless she first spoke to me). + </p> + <p> + As I listened to her clear, pleasant voice reading aloud, I kept glancing + from her to the path of the flower-garden, where the rain-spots were + making small dark circles in the sand, and thence to the lime-trees, upon + the leaves of which the rain was pattering down in large detached drops + shed from the pale, shimmering edge of the livid blue cloud which hung + suspended over us. Then I would glance at her again, and then at the last + purple rays of the setting sun where they were throwing the dense clusters + of old, rain-washed birches into brilliant relief. Yet again my eyes would + return to Varenika, and, each time that they did so, it struck me afresh + that she was not nearly so plain as at first I had thought her. + </p> + <p> + “How I wish that I wasn’t in love already!” I reflected, “or that + Sonetchka was Varenika! How nice it would be if suddenly I could become a + member of this family, and have the three ladies for my mother, aunt, and + wife respectively!” All the time that these thoughts kept passing through + my head I kept attentively regarding Varenika as she read, until somehow I + felt as though I were magnetising her, and that presently she must look at + me. Sure enough, at length she raised her head, threw me a glance, and, + meeting my eyes, turned away. + </p> + <p> + “The rain does not seem to stop,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a new feeling came over me. I began to feel as though everything + now happening to me was a repetition of some similar occurrence before—as + though on some previous occasion a shower of rain had begun to fall, and + the sun had set behind birch-trees, and I had been looking at her, and she + had been reading aloud, and I had magnetised her, and she had looked up at + me. Yes, all this I seemed to recall as though it had happened once + before. + </p> + <p> + “Surely she is not—SHE?” was my thought. “Surely IT is not + beginning?” However, I soon decided that Varenika was not the “SHE” + referred to, and that “it” was not “beginning.” “In the first place,” I + said to myself, “Varenika is not at all BEAUTIFUL. She is just an ordinary + girl whose acquaintance I have made in the ordinary way, whereas the she + whom I shall meet somewhere and some day and in some not ordinary way will + be anything but ordinary. This family pleases me so much only because + hitherto I have never seen anybody. Such things will always be happening + in the future, and I shall see many more such families during my life.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. I SHOW OFF + </h2> + <p> + AT tea time the reading came to an end, and the ladies began to talk among + themselves of persons and things unknown to me. This I conceived them to + be doing on purpose to make me conscious (for all their kind demeanour) of + the difference which years and position in the world had set between them + and myself. In general discussions, however, in which I could take part I + sought to atone for my late silence by exhibiting that extraordinary + cleverness and originality to which I felt compelled by my University + uniform. For instance, when the conversation turned upon country houses, I + said that Prince Ivan Ivanovitch had a villa near Moscow which people came + to see even from London and Paris, and that it contained balustrading + which had cost 380,000 roubles. Likewise, I remarked that the Prince was a + very near relation of mine, and that, when lunching with him the same day, + he had invited me to go and spend the entire summer with him at that + villa, but that I had declined, since I knew the villa well, and had + stayed in it more than once, and that all those balustradings and bridges + did not interest me, since I could not bear ornamental work, especially in + the country, where I liked everything to be wholly countrified. After + delivering myself of this extraordinary and complicated romance, I grew + confused, and blushed so much that every one must have seen that I was + lying. Both Varenika, who was handing me a cup of tea, and Sophia + Ivanovna, who had been gazing at me throughout, turned their heads away, + and began to talk of something else with an expression which I afterwards + learnt that good-natured people assume when a very young man has told them + a manifest string of lies—an expression which says, “Yes, we know he + is lying, and why he is doing it, the poor young fellow!” + </p> + <p> + What I had said about Prince Ivan Ivanovitch having a country villa, I had + related simply because I could find no other pretext for mentioning both + my relationship to the Prince and the fact that I had been to luncheon + with him that day; yet why I had said all I had about the balustrading + costing 380,000 roubles, and about my having several times visited the + Prince at that villa (I had never once been there—more especially + since the Prince possessed no residences save in Moscow and Naples, as the + Nechludoffs very well knew), I could not possibly tell you. Neither in + childhood nor in adolescence nor in riper years did I ever remark in + myself the vice of falsehood—on the contrary, I was, if anything, + too outspoken and truthful. Yet, during this first stage of my manhood, I + often found myself seized with a strange and unreasonable tendency to lie + in the most desperate fashion. I say advisedly “in the most desperate + fashion,” for the reason that I lied in matters in which it was the + easiest thing in the world to detect me. On the whole I think that a + vain-glorious desire to appear different from what I was, combined with an + impossible hope that the lie would never be found out, was the chief cause + of this extraordinary impulse. + </p> + <p> + After tea, since the rain had stopped and the after-glow of sunset was + calm and clear, the Princess proposed that we should go and stroll in the + lower garden, and admire her favourite spots there. Following my rule to + be always original, and conceiving that clever people like myself and the + Princess must surely be above the banalities of politeness, I replied that + I could not bear a walk with no object in view, and that, if I DID walk, I + liked to walk alone. I had no idea that this speech was simply rude; all I + thought was that, even as nothing could be more futile than empty + compliments, so nothing could be more pleasing and original than a little + frank brusquerie. However, though much pleased with my answer, I set out + with the rest of the company. + </p> + <p> + The Princess’s favourite spot of all was at the very bottom of the lower + garden, where a little bridge spanned a narrow piece of swamp. The view + there was very restricted, yet very intimate and pleasing. We are so + accustomed to confound art with nature that, often enough, phenomena of + nature which are never to be met with in pictures seem to us unreal, and + give us the impression that nature is unnatural, or vice versa; whereas + phenomena of nature which occur with too much frequency in pictures seem + to us hackneyed, and views which are to be met with in real life, but + which appear to us too penetrated with a single idea or a single + sentiment, seem to us arabesques. The view from the Princess’s favourite + spot was as follows. On the further side of a small lake, over-grown with + weeds round its edges, rose a steep ascent covered with bushes and with + huge old trees of many shades of green, while, overhanging the lake at the + foot of the ascent, stood an ancient birch tree which, though partly + supported by stout roots implanted in the marshy bank of the lake, rested + its crown upon a tall, straight poplar, and dangled its curved branches + over the smooth surface of the pond—both branches and the + surrounding greenery being reflected therein as in a mirror. + </p> + <p> + “How lovely!” said the Princess with a nod of her head, and addressing no + one in particular. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, marvellous!” I replied in my desire to show that had an opinion of + my own on every subject. “Yet somehow it all looks to me so terribly like + a scheme of decoration.” + </p> + <p> + The Princess went on gazing at the scene as though she had not heard me, + and turning to her sister and Lubov Sergievna at intervals, in order to + point out to them its details—especially a curved, pendent bough, + with its reflection in the water, which particularly pleased her. Sophia + Ivanovna observed to me that it was all very beautiful, and that she and + her sister would sometimes spend hours together at this spot; yet it was + clear that her remarks were meant merely to please the Princess. I have + noticed that people who are gifted with the faculty of loving are seldom + receptive to the beauties of nature. Lubov Sergievna also seemed + enraptured, and asked (among other things), “How does that birch tree + manage to support itself? Has it stood there long?” Yet the next moment + she became absorbed in contemplation of her little dog Susetka, which, + with its stumpy paws pattering to and fro upon the bridge in a mincing + fashion, seemed to say by the expression of its face that this was the + first time it had ever found itself out of doors. As for Dimitri, he fell + to discoursing very logically to his mother on the subject of how no view + can be beautiful of which the horizon is limited. Varenika alone said + nothing. Glancing at her, I saw that she was leaning over the parapet of + the bridge, her profile turned towards me, and gazing straight in front of + her. Something seemed to be interesting her deeply, or even affecting her, + since it was clear that she was oblivious to her surroundings, and + thinking neither of herself nor of the fact that any one might be + regarding her. In the expression of her large eyes there was nothing but + wrapt attention and quiet, concentrated thought, while her whole attitude + seemed so unconstrained and, for all her shortness, so dignified that once + more some recollection or another touched me and once more I asked myself, + “Is IT, then, beginning?” Yet again I assured myself that I was already in + love with Sonetchka, and that Varenika was only an ordinary girl, the + sister of my friend. Though she pleased me at that moment, I somehow felt + a vague desire to show her, by word or deed, some small unfriendliness. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, Dimitri,” I said to my friend as I moved nearer to + Varenika, so that she might overhear what I was going to say, “it seems to + me that, even if there had been no mosquitos here, there would have been + nothing to commend this spot; whereas “—and here I slapped my cheek, + and in very truth annihilated one of those insects—“it is simply + awful.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do not care for nature?” said Varenika without turning her head. + </p> + <p> + “I think it a foolish, futile pursuit,” I replied, well satisfied that I + had said something to annoy her, as well as something original. Varenika + only raised her eyebrows a little, with an expression of pity, and went on + gazing in front of her as calmly as before. + </p> + <p> + I felt vexed with her. Yet, for all that, the rusty, paint-blistered + parapet on which she was leaning, the way in which the dark waters of the + pond reflected the drooping branch of the overhanging birch tree (it + almost seemed to me as though branch and its reflection met), the rising + odour of the swamp, the feeling of crushed mosquito on my cheek, and her + absorbed look and statuesque pose—many times afterwards did these + things recur with unexpected vividness to my recollection. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII. DIMITRI + </h2> + <p> + WHEN we returned to the house from our stroll, Varenika declined to sing + as she usually did in the evenings, and I was conceited enough to + attribute this to my doing, in the belief that its reason lay in what I + had said on the bridge. The Nechludoffs never had supper, and went to bed + early, while to-night, since Dimitri had the toothache (as Sophia Ivanovna + had foretold), he departed with me to his room even earlier than usual. + Feeling that I had done all that was required of me by my blue collar and + gilt buttons, and that every one was very pleased with me, I was in a + gratified, complacent mood, while Dimitri, on the other hand, was rendered + by his quarrel with his sister and the toothache both taciturn and gloomy. + He sat down at the table, got out a couple of notebooks—a diary and + the copy-book in which it was his custom every evening to inscribe the + tasks performed by or awaiting him—and, continually frowning and + touching his cheek with his hand, continued writing for a while. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, DO leave me alone!” he cried to the maid whom Sophia Ivanovna sent to + ask him whether his teeth were still hurting him, and whether he would not + like to have a poultice made. Then, saying that my bed would soon be ready + for me and that he would be back presently, he departed to Lubov + Sergievna’s room. + </p> + <p> + “What a pity that Varenika is not good-looking and, in general, + Sonetchka!” I reflected when I found myself alone. “How nice it would be + if, after I have left the University, I could go to her and offer her my + hand! I would say to her, ‘Princess, though no longer young, and therefore + unable to love passionately, I will cherish you as a dear sister. And + you,’ I would continue to her mother, ‘I greatly respect; and you, Sophia + Ivanovna, I value highly. Therefore say to me, Varenika (since I ask you + to be my wife), just the simple and direct word YES.’ And she would give + me her hand, and I should press it, and say, ‘Mine is a love which depends + not upon words, but upon deeds.’ And suppose,” next came into my head, + “that Dimitri should suddenly fall in love with Lubotshka (as Lubotshka + has already done with him), and should desire to marry her? Then either + one or the other of us would have to resign all thought of marriage. Well, + it would be splendid, for in that case I should act thus. As soon as I had + noticed how things were, I should make no remark, but go to Dimitri and + say, ‘It is no use, my friend, for you and I to conceal our feelings from + one another. You know that my love for your sister will terminate only + with my life. Yet I know all; and though you have deprived me of all hope, + and have rendered me an unhappy man, so that Nicolas Irtenieff will have + to bewail his misery for the rest of his existence, yet do you take my + sister,’ and I should lay his hand in Lubotshka’s. Then he would say to + me, ‘No, not for all the world!’ and I should reply, ‘Prince Nechludoff, + it is in vain for you to attempt to outdo me in nobility. Not in the whole + world does there exist a more magnanimous being than Nicolas Irtenieff.’ + Then I should salute him and depart. In tears Dimitri and Lubotshka would + pursue me, and entreat me to accept their sacrifice, and I should consent + to do so, and, perhaps, be happy ever afterwards—if only I were in + love with Varenika.” These fancies tickled my imagination so pleasantly + that I felt as though I should like to communicate them to my friend; yet, + despite our mutual vow of frankness, I also felt as though I had not the + physical energy to do so. + </p> + <p> + Dimitri returned from Lubov Sergievna’s room with some toothache capsules + which she had given him, yet in even greater pain, and therefore in even + greater depression, than before. Evidently no bedroom had yet been + prepared for me, for presently the boy who acted as Dimitri’s valet + arrived to ask him where I was to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to the devil!” cried Dimitri, stamping his foot. “Vasika, Vasika, + Vasika!” he went on, the instant that the boy had left the room, with a + gradual raising of his voice at each repetition. “Vasika, lay me out a bed + on the floor.” + </p> + <p> + “No, let ME sleep on the floor,” I objected. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is all one. Lie anywhere you like,” continued Dimitri in the + same angry tone. “Vasika, why don’t you go and do what I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + Evidently Vasika did not understand what was demanded of him, for he + remained where he was. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you? Go and lay the bed, Vasika, I tell you!” + shouted Dimitri, suddenly bursting into a sort of frenzy; yet Vasika still + did not understand, but, blushing hotly, stood motionless. + </p> + <p> + “So you are determined to drive me mad, are you?”—and leaping from + his chair and rushing upon the boy, Dimitri struck him on the head with + the whole weight of his fist, until the boy rushed headlong from the room. + Halting in the doorway, Dimitri glanced at me, and the expression of fury + and pain which had sat for a moment on his countenance suddenly gave place + to such a boyish, kindly, affectionate, yet ashamed, expression that I + felt sorry for him, and reconsidered my intention of leaving him to + himself. He said nothing, but for a long time paced the room in silence, + occasionally glancing at me with the same deprecatory expression as + before. Then he took his notebook from the table, wrote something in it, + took off his jacket and folded it carefully, and, stepping into the corner + where the ikon hung, knelt down and began to say his prayers, with his + large white hands folded upon his breast. So long did he pray that Vasika + had time to bring a mattress and spread it, under my whispered directions, + on the floor. Indeed, I had undressed and laid myself down upon the + mattress before Dimitri had finished. As I contemplated his slightly + rounded back and the soles of his feet (which somehow seemed to stick out + in my direction in a sort of repentant fashion whenever he made his + obeisances), I felt that I liked him more than ever, and debated within + myself whether or not I should tell him all I had been fancying concerning + our respective sisters. When he had finished his prayers, he lay down upon + the bed near me, and, propping himself upon his elbow, looked at me in + silence, with a kindly, yet abashed, expression. Evidently he found it + difficult to do this, yet meant thus to punish himself. Then I smiled and + returned his gaze, and he smiled back at me. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not tell me that my conduct has been abominable?” he said. + “You have been thinking so, have you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied; and although it was something quite different which had + been in my mind, it now seemed to me that that was what I had been + thinking. “Yes, it was not right of you, nor should I have expected it of + you.” It pleased me particularly at that moment to call him by the + familiar second person singular. “But how are your teeth now?” I added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, much better. Nicolinka, my friend,” he went on, and so feelingly that + it sounded as though tears were standing in his eyes, “I know and feel + that I am bad, but God sees how I try to be better, and how I entreat Him + to make me so. Yet what am I to do with such an unfortunate, horrible + nature as mine? What am I to do with it? I try to keep myself in hand and + to rule myself, but suddenly it becomes impossible for me to do so—at + all events, impossible for me to do so unaided. I need the help and + support of some one. Now, there is Lubov Sergievna; SHE understands me, + and could help me in this, and I know by my notebook that I have greatly + improved in this respect during the past year. Ah, my dear Nicolinka”—he + spoke with the most unusual and unwonted tenderness, and in a tone which + had grown calmer now that he had made his confession—“how much the + influence of a woman like Lubov could do for me! Think how good it would + be for me if I could have a friend like her to live with when I have + become independent! With her I should be another man.” + </p> + <p> + And upon that Dimitri began to unfold to me his plans for marriage, for a + life in the country, and for continual self-discipline. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will live in the country,” he said, “and you shall come to see me + when you have married Sonetchka. Our children shall play together. All + this may seem to you stupid and ridiculous, yet it may very well come to + pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it very well may” I replied with a smile, yet thinking how much + nicer it would be if I married his sister. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what,” he went on presently; “you only imagine yourself to be + in love with Sonetchka, whereas I can see that it is all rubbish, and that + you do not really know what love means.” + </p> + <p> + I did not protest, for, in truth, I almost agreed with him, and for a + while we lay without speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Probably you have noticed that I have been in my old bad humour today, + and have had a nasty quarrel with Varia?” he resumed. “I felt bad about it + afterwards—more particularly since it occurred in your presence. + Although she thinks wrongly on some subjects, she is a splendid girl and + very good, as you will soon recognise.” + </p> + <p> + His quick transition from mention of my love affairs to praise of his + sister pleased me extremely, and made me blush, but I nevertheless said + nothing more about his sister, and we went on talking of other things. + </p> + <p> + Thus we chattered until the cocks had crowed twice. In fact, the pale dawn + was already looking in at the window when at last Dimitri lay down upon + his bed and put out the candle. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now for sleep,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “Now nice it is to be alive in the daylight!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it IS a splendid thing!” he replied in a voice which, even in the + darkness, enabled me to see the expression of his cheerful, kindly eyes + and boyish smile. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII. IN THE COUNTRY + </h2> + <p> + Next day Woloda and myself departed in a post-chaise for the country. + Turning over various Moscow recollections in my head as we drove along, I + suddenly recalled Sonetchka Valakhin—though not until evening, and + when we had already covered five stages of the road. “It is a strange + thing,” I thought, “that I should be in love, and yet have forgotten all + about it. I must start and think about her,” and straightway I proceeded + to do so, but only in the way that one thinks when travelling—that + is to say, disconnectedly, though vividly. Thus I brought myself to such a + condition that, for the first two days after our arrival home, I somehow + considered it incumbent upon me always to appear sad and moody in the + presence of the household, and especially before Katenka, whom I looked + upon as a great connoisseur in matters of this kind, and to whom I threw + out a hint of the condition in which my heart was situated. Yet, for all + my attempts at dissimulation and assiduous adoption of such signs of love + sickness as I had occasionally observed in other people, I only succeeded + for two days (and that at intervals, and mostly towards evening) in + reminding myself of the fact that I was in love, and finally, when I had + settled down into the new rut of country life and pursuits, I forgot about + my affection for Sonetchka altogether. + </p> + <p> + We arrived at Petrovskoe in the night time, and I was then so soundly + asleep that I saw nothing of the house as we approached it, nor yet of the + avenue of birch trees, nor yet of the household—all of whom had long + ago betaken themselves to bed and to slumber. Only old hunchbacked Foka—bare-footed, + clad in some sort of a woman’s wadded nightdress, and carrying a + candlestick—opened the door to us. As soon as he saw who we were, he + trembled all over with joy, kissed us on the shoulders, hurriedly put on + his felt slippers, and started to dress himself properly. I passed in a + semi-waking condition through the porch and up the steps, but in the hall + the lock of the door, the bars and bolts, the crooked boards of the + flooring, the chest, the ancient candelabrum (splashed all over with + grease as of old), the shadows thrown by the crooked, chill, + recently-lighted stump of candle, the perennially dusty, unopened window + behind which I remembered sorrel to have grown—all was so familiar, + so full of memories, so intimate of aspect, so, as it were, knit together + by a single idea, that I suddenly became conscious of a tenderness for + this quiet old house. Involuntarily I asked myself, “How have we, the + house and I, managed to remain apart so long?” and, hurrying from spot to + spot, ran to see if all the other rooms were still the same. Yes, + everything was unchanged, except that everything had become smaller and + lower, and I myself taller, heavier, and more filled out. Yet, even as I + was, the old house received me back into its arms, and aroused in me with + every board, every window, every step of the stairs, and every sound the + shadows of forms, feelings, and events of the happy but irrevocable past. + When we entered our old night nursery, all my childish fears lurked once + more in the darkness of the corners and doorway. When we passed into the + drawing-room, I could feel the old calm motherly love diffusing itself + from every object in the apartment. In the breakfast-room, the noisy, + careless merriment of childhood seemed merely to be waiting to wake to + life again. In the divannaia (whither Foka first conducted us, and where + he had prepared our beds) everything—mirror, screen, old wooden + ikon, the lumps on the walls covered with white paper—seemed to + speak of suffering and of death and of what would never come back to us + again. + </p> + <p> + We got into bed, and Foka, bidding us good-night, retired. + </p> + <p> + “It was in this room that Mamma died, was it not?” said Woloda. + </p> + <p> + I made no reply, but pretended to be asleep. If I had said anything I + should have burst into tears. On awaking next morning, I beheld Papa + sitting on Woloda’s bed in his dressing gown and slippers and smoking a + cigar. Leaping up with a merry hoist of the shoulders, he came over to me, + slapped me on the back with his great hand, and presented me his cheek to + press my lips to. + </p> + <p> + “Well done, DIPLOMAT!” he said in his most kindly jesting tone as he + looked at me with his small bright eyes. “Woloda tells me you have passed + the examinations well for a youngster, and that is a splendid thing. + Unless you start and play the fool, I shall have another fine little + fellow in you. Thanks, my dear boy. Well, we will have a grand time of it + here now, and in the winter, perhaps, we shall move to St. Petersburg. I + only wish the hunting was not over yet, or I could have given you some + amusement in THAT way. Can you shoot, Woldemar? However, whether there is + any game or not, I will take you out some day. Next winter, if God + pleases, we will move to St. Petersburg, and you shall meet people, and + make friends, for you are now my two young grown-ups. I have been telling + Woldemar that you are just starting on your careers, whereas my day is + ended. You are old enough now to walk by yourselves, but, whenever you + wish to confide in me, pray do so, for I am no longer your nurse, but your + friend. At least, I will be your friend and comrade and adviser as much as + I can and more than that I cannot do. How does that fall in with your + philosophy, eh, Koko? Well or ill, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Of course I said that it fell in with it entirely, and, indeed, I really + thought so. That morning Papa had a particularly winning, bright, and + happy expression on his face, and these new relations between us, as of + equals and comrades, made me love him all the more. + </p> + <p> + “Now, tell me,” he went on, “did you call upon all our kinsfolk and the + Iwins? Did you see the old man, and what did he say to you? And did you go + to Prince Ivan’s?” + </p> + <p> + We continued talking so long that, before we were fully dressed, the sun + had left the window of the divannaia, and Jakoff (the same old man who of + yore had twirled his fingers behind his back and always repeated his + words) had entered the room and reported to Papa that the carriage was + ready. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going to?” I asked Papa. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I had forgotten all about it!” he replied, with a cough and the usual + hoisting of his shoulder. “I promised to go and call upon Epifanova + to-day. You remember Epifanova—‘la belle Flamande’—don’t you, + who used to come and see your Mamma? They are nice people.” And with a + self-conscious shrug of his shoulders (so it appeared to me) Papa left the + room. + </p> + <p> + During our conversation, Lubotshka had more than once come to the door and + asked “Can I come in?” but Papa had always shouted to her that she could + not do so, since we were not dressed yet. + </p> + <p> + “What rubbish!” she replied. “Why, I have seen you in your dressing-gown.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; you cannot see your brothers without their inexpressibles,” + rejoined Papa. “If they each of them just go to the door, let that be + enough for you. Now go. Even for them to SPEAK to you in such a neglige + costume is unbecoming.” + </p> + <p> + “How unbearable you are!” was Lubotshka’s parting retort. “Well, at least + hurry up and come down to the drawing-room, for Mimi wants to see them.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Papa had left the room, I hastened to array myself in my + student’s uniform, and to repair to the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Woloda, on the other hand, was in no hurry, but remained sitting on his + bed and talking to Jakoff about the best places to find plover and snipe. + As I have said, there was nothing in the world he so much feared as to be + suspected of any affection for his father, brother, and sister; so that, + to escape any expression of that feeling, he often fell into the other + extreme, and affected a coldness which shocked people who did not + comprehend its cause. In the hall, I collided with Papa, who was hurrying + towards the carriage with short, rapid steps. He had a new and fashionable + Moscow greatcoat on, and smelt of scent. On seeing me, he gave a cheerful + nod, as much as to say, “Do you remark my splendour?” and once again I was + struck with the happy expression of face which I had noted earlier in the + morning. + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room looked the same lofty, bright room as of Yore, with its + brown English piano, and its large open windows looking on to the green + trees and yellowish-red paths of the garden. After kissing Mimi and + Lubotshka, I was approaching Katenka for the same purpose when it suddenly + struck me that it might be improper for me to salute her in that fashion. + Accordingly I halted, silent and blushing. Katenka, for her part, was + quite at her ease as she held out a white hand to me and congratulated me + on my passing into the University. The same thing took place when Woloda + entered the drawing-room and met Katenka. Indeed, it was something of a + problem how, after being brought up together and seeing one another daily, + we ought now, after this first separation, to meet again. Katenka had + grown better-looking than any of us, yet Woloda seemed not at all confused + as, with a slight bow to her, he crossed over to Lubotshka, made a jesting + remark to her, and then departed somewhere on some solitary expedition. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX. RELATIONS BETWEEN THE GIRLS AND OURSELVES + </h2> + <p> + OF the girls Woloda took the strange view that, although he wished that + they should have enough to eat, should sleep well, be well dressed, and + avoid making such mistakes in French as would shame him before strangers, + he would never admit that they could think or feel like human beings, + still less that they could converse with him sensibly about anything. + Whenever they addressed to him a serious question (a thing, by the way, + which he always tried to avoid), such as asking his opinion on a novel or + inquiring about his doings at the University, he invariably pulled a + grimace, and either turned away without speaking or answered with some + nonsensical French phrase—“Comme c’est tres jolie!” or the like. Or + again, feigning to look serious and stolidly wise, he would say something + absolutely meaningless and bearing no relation whatever to the question + asked him, or else suddenly exclaim, with a look of pretended + unconsciousness, the word bulku or poyechali or kapustu, [Respectively, + “roll of butter,” “away,” and “cabbage.”] or something of the kind; and + when, afterwards, I happened to repeat these words to him as having been + told me by Lubotshka or Katenka, he would always remark: + </p> + <p> + “Hm! So you actually care about talking to them? I can see you are a + duffer still”—and one needed to see and near him to appreciate the + profound, immutable contempt which echoed in this remark. He had been + grown-up now two years, and was in love with every good-looking woman that + he met; yet, despite the fact that he came in daily contact with Katenka + (who during those two years had been wearing long dresses, and was growing + prettier every day), the possibility of his falling in love with her never + seemed to enter his head. Whether this proceeded from the fact that the + prosaic recollections of childhood were still too fresh in his memory, or + whether from the aversion which very young people feel for everything + domestic, or whether from the common human weakness which, at a first + encounter with anything fair and pretty, leads a man to say to himself, + “Ah! I shall meet much more of the same kind during my life,” but at all + events Woloda had never yet looked upon Katenka with a man’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + All that summer Woloda appeared to find things very wearisome—a fact + which arose out of that contempt for us all which, as I have said, he made + no effort to conceal. His expression of face seemed to be constantly + saying, “Phew! how it bores me to have no one to speak to!” The first + thing in the morning he would go out shooting, or sit reading a book in + his room, and not dress until luncheon time. Indeed, if Papa was not at + home, he would take his book into that meal, and go on reading it without + addressing so much as a single word to any one of us, who felt, somehow, + guilty in his presence. In the evening, too, he would stretch himself on a + settee in the drawing-room, and either go to sleep, propped on his elbow, + or tell us farcical stories—sometimes stories so improper as to make + Mimi grow angry and blush, and ourselves die with laughter. At other times + he would not condescend to address a single serious word to any member of + the family except Papa or (occasionally) myself. Involuntarily I offended + against his view of girls, seeing that I was not so afraid of seeming + affectionate as he, and, moreover, had not such a profound and confirmed + contempt for young women. Yet several times that summer, when driven by + lack of amusement to try and engage Lubotshka and Katenka in conversation, + I always encountered in them such an absence of any capacity for logical + thinking, and such an ignorance of the simplest, most ordinary matters + (as, for instance, the nature of money, the subjects studied at + universities, the effect of war, and so forth), as well as such + indifference to my explanations of such matters, that these attempts of + mine only ended in confirming my unfavourable opinion of feminine ability. + </p> + <p> + I remember one evening when Lubotshka kept repeating some unbearably + tedious passage on the piano about a hundred times in succession, while + Woloda, who was dozing on a settee in the drawing-room, kept addressing no + one in particular as he muttered, “Lord! how she murders it! WHAT a + musician! WHAT a Beethoven!” (he always pronounced the composer’s name + with especial irony). “Wrong again! Now—a second time! That’s it!” + and so on. Meanwhile Katenka and I were sitting by the tea-table, and + somehow she began to talk about her favourite subject—love. I was in + the right frame of mind to philosophise, and began by loftily defining + love as the wish to acquire in another what one does not possess in + oneself. To this Katenka retorted that, on the contrary, love is not love + at all if a girl desires to marry a man for his money alone, but that, in + her opinion, riches were a vain thing, and true love only the affection + which can stand the test of separation (this I took to be a hint + concerning her love for Dubkoff). At this point Woloda, who must have been + listening all the time, raised himself on his elbow, and cried out some + rubbish or another; and I felt that he was right. + </p> + <p> + Apart from the general faculties (more or less developed in different + persons) of intellect, sensibility, and artistic feeling, there also + exists (more or less developed in different circles of society, and + especially in families) a private or individual faculty which I may call + APPREHENSION. The essence of this faculty lies in sympathetic appreciation + of proportion, and in identical understanding of things. Two individuals + who possess this faculty and belong to the same social circle or the same + family apprehend an expression of feeling precisely to the same point, + namely, the point beyond which such expression becomes mere phrasing. Thus + they apprehend precisely where commendation ends and irony begins, where + attraction ends and pretence begins, in a manner which would be impossible + for persons possessed of a different order of apprehension. Persons + possessed of identical apprehension view objects in an identically + ludicrous, beautiful, or repellent light; and in order to facilitate such + identical apprehension between members of the same social circle or + family, they usually establish a language, turns of speech, or terms to + define such shades of apprehension as exist for them alone. In our + particular family such apprehension was common to Papa, Woloda, and + myself, and was developed to the highest pitch, Dubkoff also approximated + to our coterie in apprehension, but Dimitri, though infinitely more + intellectual than Dubkoff, was grosser in this respect. With no one, + however, did I bring this faculty to such a point as with Woloda, who had + grown up with me under identical conditions. Papa stood a long way from + us, and much that was to us as clear as “two and two make four” was to him + incomprehensible. For instance, I and Woloda managed to establish between + ourselves the following terms, with meanings to correspond. Izium + [Raisins.] meant a desire to boast of one’s money; shishka [Bump or + swelling.] (on pronouncing which one had to join one’s fingers together, + and to put a particular emphasis upon the two sh’s in the word) meant + anything fresh, healthy, and comely, but not elegant; a substantive used + in the plural meant an undue partiality for the object which it denoted; + and so forth, and so forth. At the same time, the meaning depended + considerably upon the expression of the face and the context of the + conversation; so that, no matter what new expression one of us might + invent to define a shade of feeling the other could immediately understand + it by a hint alone. The girls did not share this faculty of apprehension, + and herein lay the chief cause of our moral estrangement, and of the + contempt which we felt for them. + </p> + <p> + It may be that they too had their “apprehension,” but it so little ran + with ours that, where we already perceived the “phrasing,” they still saw + only the feeling—our irony was for them truth, and so on. At that + time I had not yet learnt to understand that they were in no way to blame + for this, and that absence of such apprehension in no way prevented them + from being good and clever girls. Accordingly I looked down upon them. + Moreover, having once lit upon my precious idea of “frankness,” and being + bent upon applying it to the full in myself, I thought the quiet, + confiding nature of Lubotshka guilty of secretiveness and dissimulation + simply because she saw no necessity for digging up and examining all her + thoughts and instincts. For instance, the fact that she always signed the + sign of the cross over Papa before going to bed, that she and Katenka + invariably wept in church when attending requiem masses for Mamma, and + that Katenka sighed and rolled her eyes about when playing the piano—all + these things seemed to me sheer make-believe, and I asked myself: “At what + period did they learn to pretend like grown-up people, and how can they + bring themselves to do it?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX. HOW I EMPLOYED MY TIME + </h2> + <p> + Nevertheless, the fact that that summer I developed a passion for music + caused me to become better friends with the ladies of our household than I + had been for years. In the spring, a young fellow came to see us, armed + with a letter of introduction, who, as soon as ever he entered the + drawing-room, fixed his eyes upon the piano, and kept gradually edging his + chair closer to it as he talked to Mimi and Katenka. After discoursing + awhile of the weather and the amenities of country life, he skilfully + directed the conversation to piano-tuners, music, and pianos generally, + and ended by saying that he himself played—and in truth he did sit + down and perform three waltzes, with Mimi, Lubotshka, and Katenka grouped + about the instrument, and watching him as he did so. He never came to see + us again, but his playing, and his attitude when at the piano, and the way + in which he kept shaking his long hair, and, most of all, the manner in + which he was able to execute octaves with his left hand as he first of all + played them rapidly with his thumb and little finger, and then slowly + closed those members, and then played the octaves afresh, made a great + impression upon me. This graceful gesture of his, together with his easy + pose and his shaking of hair and successful winning of the ladies’ + applause by his talent, ended by firing me to take up the piano. Convinced + that I possessed both talent and a passion for music, I set myself to + learn, and, in doing so, acted just as millions of the male—still + more, of the female—sex have done who try to teach themselves + without a skilled instructor, without any real turn for the art, or + without the smallest understanding either of what the art can give or of + what ought to be done to obtain that gift. For me music (or rather, + piano-playing) was simply a means of winning the ladies’ good graces + through their sensibility. With the help of Katenka I first learnt the + notes (incidentally breaking several of them with my clumsy fingers), and + then—that is to say, after two months of hard work, supplemented by + ceaseless twiddling of my rebellious fingers on my knees after luncheon, + and on the pillow when in bed—went on to “pieces,” which I played + (so Katenka assured me) with “soul” (“avec ame”), but altogether + regardless of time. + </p> + <p> + My range of pieces was the usual one—waltzes, galops, “romances,” + “arrangements,” etcetera; all of them of the class of delightful + compositions of which any one with a little healthy taste could point out + a selection among the better class works contained in any volume of music + and say, “These are what you ought NOT to play, seeing that anything + worse, less tasteful, and more silly has never yet been included in any + collection of music,”—but which (probably for that very reason) are + to be found on the piano of every Russian lady. True, we also possessed an + unfortunate volume which contained Beethoven’s “Sonate Pathetique” and the + C minor Sonata (a volume lamed for life by the ladies—more + especially by Lubotshka, who used to discourse music from it in memory of + Mamma), as well as certain other good pieces which her teacher in Moscow + had given her; but among that collection there were likewise compositions + of the teacher’s own, in the shape of clumsy marches and galops—and + these too Lubotshka used to play! Katenka and I cared nothing for serious + works, but preferred, above all things, “Le Fou” and “The Nightingale”—the + latter of which Katenka would play until her fingers almost became + invisible, and which I too was beginning to execute with much vigour and + some continuity. I had adopted the gestures of the young man of whom I + have spoken, and frequently regretted that there were no strangers present + to see me play. Soon, however, I began to realise that Liszt and + Kalkbrenner were beyond me, and that I should never overtake Katenka. + Accordingly, imagining that classical music was easier (as well as, + partly, for the sake of originality), I suddenly came to the conclusion + that I loved abstruse German music. I began to go into raptures whenever + Lubotshka played the “Sonate Pathetique,” and although (if the truth be + told) that work had for years driven me to the verge of distraction, I set + myself to play Beethoven, and to talk of him as “Beethoven.” Yet through + all this chopping and changing and pretence (as I now conceive) there may + have run in me a certain vein of talent, since music sometimes affected me + even to tears, and things which particularly pleased me I could strum on + the piano afterwards (in a certain fashion) without the score; so that, + had any one taught me at that period to look upon music as an end, a + grace, in itself, and not merely as a means for pleasing womenfolk with + the velocity and pseudo-sentiment of one’s playing, I might possibly have + become a passable musician. + </p> + <p> + The reading of French novels (of which Woloda had brought a large store + with him from Moscow) was another of my amusements that summer. At that + period Monte Cristo and Taine’s works had just appeared, while I also + revelled in stories by Sue, Dumas, and Paul de Kock. Even their most + unnatural personages and events were for me as real as actuality, and not + only was I incapable of suspecting an author of lying, but, in my eyes, + there existed no author at all. That is to say, the various personages and + events of a book paraded themselves before me on the printed page as + personages and events that were alive and real; and although I had never + in my life met such characters as I there read about, I never for a second + doubted that I should one day do so. I discovered in myself all the + passions described in every novel, as well as a likeness to all the + characters—heroes and villains impartially—who figured + therein, just as a suspicious man finds in himself the signs of every + possible disease when reading a book on medicine. I took pleasure both in + the cunning designs, the glowing sentiments, the tumultuous events, and + the character-drawing of these works. A good man was of the goodness, a + bad man of the badness, possible only to the imagination of early youth. + Likewise I found great pleasure in the fact that it was all written in + French, and that I could lay to heart the fine words which the fine heroes + spoke, and recall them for use some day when engaged in some noble deed. + What quantities of French phrases I culled from those books for + Kolpikoff’s benefit if I should ever meet him again, as well as for HERS, + when at length I should find her and reveal to her my love! For them both + I prepared speeches which should overcome them as soon as spoken! Upon + novels, too, I founded new ideals of the moral qualities which I wished to + attain. First of all, I wished to be NOBLE in all my deeds and conduct (I + use the French word noble instead of the Russian word blagorodni for the + reason that the former has a different meaning to the latter—as the + Germans well understood when they adopted noble as nobel and + differentiated it from ehrlich); next, to be strenuous; and lastly, to be + what I was already inclined to be, namely, comme il faut. I even tried to + approximate my appearance and bearing to that of the heroes who possessed + these qualities. In particular I remember how in one of the hundred or so + novels which I read that summer there was a very strenuous hero with heavy + eyebrows, and that I so greatly wished to resemble him (I felt that I did + so already from a moral point of view) that one day, when looking at my + eyebrows in the glass, I conceived the idea of clipping them, in order to + make them grow bushier. Unfortunately, after I had started to do so, I + happened to clip one spot rather shorter than the rest, and so had to + level down the rest to it-with the result that, to my horror, I beheld + myself eyebrow-less, and anything but presentable. However, I comforted + myself with the reflection that my eyebrows would soon sprout again as + bushy as my hero’s, and was only perplexed to think how I could explain + the circumstance to the household when they next perceived my eyebrow-less + condition. Accordingly I borrowed some gunpowder from Woloda, rubbed it on + my temples, and set it alight. The powder did not fire properly, but I + succeeded in singeing myself sufficiently to avert all suspicion of my + pranks. And, indeed, afterwards, when I had forgotten all about my hero, + my eyebrows grew again, and much thicker than they had been before. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXI. “COMME IL FAUT” + </h2> + <p> + SEVERAL times in the course of this narrative I have hinted at an idea + corresponding to the above French heading, and now feel it incumbent upon + me to devote a whole chapter to that idea, which was one of the most + ruinous, lying notions which ever became engrafted upon my life by my + upbringing and social milieu. + </p> + <p> + The human race may be divided into several categories—rich and poor, + good and bad, military and civilian, clever and stupid, and so forth, and + so forth. Yet each man has his own favourite, fundamental system of + division which he unconsciously uses to class each new person with whom he + meets. At the time of which I am speaking, my own favourite, fundamental + system of division in this respect was into people “comme il faut” and + people “comme il ne faut pas”—the latter subdivided, again, into + people merely not “comme il faut” and the lower orders. People “comme il + faut” I respected, and looked upon as worthy to consort with me as my + equals; the second of the above categories I pretended merely to despise, + but in reality hated, and nourished towards them a kind of feeling of + offended personality; while the third category had no existence at all, so + far as I was concerned, since my contempt for them was too complete. This + “comme il faut”-ness of mine lay, first and foremost, in proficiency in + French, especially conversational French. A person who spoke that language + badly at once aroused in me a feeling of dislike. “Why do you try to talk + as we do when you haven’t a notion how to do it?” I would seem to ask him + with my most venomous and quizzing smile. The second condition of “comme + il faut”-ness was long nails that were well kept and clean; the third, + ability to bow, dance, and converse; the fourth—and a very important + one—indifference to everything, and a constant air of refined, + supercilious ennui. Moreover, there were certain general signs which, I + considered, enabled me to tell, without actually speaking to a man, the + class to which he belonged. Chief among these signs (the others being the + fittings of his rooms, his gloves, his handwriting, his turn-out, and so + forth) were his feet. The relation of boots to trousers was sufficient to + determine, in my eyes, the social status of a man. Heelless boots with + angular toes, wedded to narrow, unstrapped trouser-ends—these + denoted the vulgarian. Boots with narrow, round toes and heels, + accompanied either by tight trousers strapped under the instep and fitting + close to the leg or by wide trousers similarly strapped, but projecting in + a peak over the toe—these meant the man of mauvais genre; and so on, + and so on. + </p> + <p> + It was a curious thing that I who lacked all ability to become “comme il + faut,” should have assimilated the idea so completely as I did. Possibly + it was the fact that it had cost me such enormous labour to acquire that + brought about its strenuous development in my mind. I hardly like to think + how much of the best and most valuable time of my first sixteen years of + existence I wasted upon its acquisition. Yet every one whom I imitated—Woloda, + Dubkoff, and the majority of my acquaintances—seemed to acquire it + easily. I watched them with envy, and silently toiled to become proficient + in French, to bow gracefully and without looking at the person whom I was + saluting, to gain dexterity in small-talk and dancing, to cultivate + indifference and ennui, and to keep my fingernails well trimmed (though I + frequently cut my finger-ends with the scissors in so doing). And all the + time I felt that so much remained to be done if I was ever to attain my + end! A room, a writing-table, an equipage I still found it impossible to + arrange “comme il faut,” however much I fought down my aversion to + practical matters in my desire to become proficient. Yet everything seemed + to arrange itself properly with other people, just as though things could + never have been otherwise! Once I remember asking Dubkoff, after much + zealous and careful labouring at my finger-nails (his own were + extraordinarily good), whether his nails had always been as now, or + whether he had done anything to make them so: to which he replied that + never within his recollection had he done anything to them, and that he + could not imagine a gentleman’s nails possibly being different. This + answer incensed me greatly, for I had not yet learnt that one of the chief + conditions of “comme il faut”-ness was to hold one’s tongue about the + labour by which it had been acquired. “Comme il faut”-ness I looked upon + as not only a great merit, a splendid accomplishment, an embodiment of all + the perfection which must strive to attain, but as the one indispensable + condition without which there could never be happiness, nor glory, nor any + good whatsoever in this world. Even the greatest artist or savant or + benefactor of the human race would at that time have won from me no + respect if he had not also been “comme il faut.” A man possessed of “comme + il faut”-ness stood higher than, and beyond all possible equality with, + such people, and might well leave it to them to paint pictures, to compose + music, to write books, or to do good. Possibly he might commend them for + so doing (since why should not merit be commended where-ever it be + found?), but he could never stand ON A LEVEL with them, seeing that he was + “comme il faut” and they were not—a quite final and sufficient + reason. In fact, I actually believe that, had we possessed a brother or a + father or a mother who had not been “comme il faut,” I should have + declared it to be a great misfortune for us, and announced that between + myself and them there could never be anything in common. Yet neither waste + of the golden hours which I consumed in constantly endeavouring to observe + the many arduous, unattainable conditions of “comme il faut”-ness (to the + exclusion of any more serious pursuit), nor dislike of and contempt for + nine-tenths of the human race, nor disregard of all the beauty that lay + outside the narrow circle of “comme il faut”-ness comprised the whole of + the evil which the idea wrought in me. The chief evil of all lay in the + notion acquired that a man need not strive to become a tchinovnik, + [Official.] a coachbuilder, a soldier, a savant, or anything useful, so + long only as he was “comme il faut “—that by attaining the latter + quality he had done all that was demanded of him, and was even superior to + most people. + </p> + <p> + Usually, at a given period in youth, and after many errors and excesses, + every man recognises the necessity of his taking an active part in social + life, and chooses some branch of labour to which to devote himself. Only + with the “comme il faut” man does this rarely happen. I have known, and + know, very, very many people—old, proud, self-satisfied, and + opinionated—who to the question (if it should ever present itself to + them in their world) “Who have you been, and what have you ever done?” + would be unable to reply otherwise than by saying, + </p> + <p> + “Je fus un homme tres comme il faut,” + </p> + <p> + Such a fate was awaiting myself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXII. YOUTH + </h2> + <p> + Despite the confusion of ideas raging in my head, I was at least young, + innocent, and free that summer—consequently almost happy. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes I would rise quite early in the morning, for I slept on the open + verandah, and the bright, horizontal beams of the morning sun would wake + me up. Dressing myself quickly, I would tuck a towel and a French novel + under my arm, and go off to bathe in the river in the shade of a birch + tree which stood half a verst from the house. Next, I would stretch myself + on the grass and read—raising my eyes from time to time to look at + the surface of the river where it showed blue in the shade of the trees, + at the ripples caused by the first morning breeze, at the yellowing field + of rye on the further bank, and at the bright-red sheen of the sunlight as + it struck lower and lower down the white trunks of the birch-trees which, + ranged in ranks one behind the other, gradually receded into the remote + distance of the home park. At such moments I would feel joyously conscious + of having within me the same young, fresh force of life as nature was + everywhere exuding around me. When, however, the sky was overcast with + grey clouds of morning and I felt chilly after bathing, I would often + start to walk at random through the fields and woods, and joyously trail + my wet boots in the fresh dew. All the while my head would be filled with + vivid dreams concerning the heroes of my last-read novel, and I would keep + picturing to myself some leader of an army or some statesman or + marvellously strong man or devoted lover or another, and looking round me + in, a nervous expectation that I should suddenly descry HER somewhere near + me, in a meadow or behind a tree. Yet, whenever these rambles led me near + peasants engaged at their work, all my ignoring of the existence of the + “common people” did not prevent me from experiencing an involuntary, + overpowering sensation of awkwardness; so that I always tried to avoid + their seeing me. When the heat of the day had increased, it was not + infrequently my habit—if the ladies did not come out of doors for + their morning tea—to go rambling through the orchard and + kitchen-garden, and to pluck ripe fruit there. Indeed, this was an + occupation which furnished me with one of my greatest pleasures. Let any + one go into an orchard, and dive into the midst of a tall, thick, + sprouting raspberry-bed. Above will be seen the clear, glowing sky, and, + all around, the pale-green, prickly stems of raspberry-trees where they + grow mingled together in a tangle of profusion. At one’s feet springs the + dark-green nettle, with its slender crown of flowers, while the + broad-leaved burdock, with its bright-pink, prickly blossoms, overtops the + raspberries (and even one’s head) with its luxuriant masses, until, with + the nettle, it almost meets the pendent, pale-green branches of the old + apple-trees where apples, round and lustrous as bone, but as yet unripe, + are mellowing in the heat of the sun. Below, again, are seen young + raspberry-shoots, twining themselves around the partially withered, + leafless parent plant, and stretching their tendrils towards the sunlight, + with green, needle-shaped blades of grass and young, dew-coated pods + peering through last year’s leaves, and growing juicily green in the + perennial shade, as though they care nothing for the bright sunshine which + is playing on the leaves of the apple-trees above them. In this density + there is always moisture—always a smell of confined, perpetual + shade, of cobwebs, fallen apples (turning black where they roll on the + mouldy sod), raspberries, and earwigs of the kind which impel one to reach + hastily for more fruit when one has inadvertently swallowed a member of + that insect tribe with the last berry. At every step one’s movements keep + flushing the sparrows which always make their home in these depths, and + one hears their fussy chirping and the beating of their tiny, fluttering + wings against the stalks, and catches the low buzzing of a bumble bee + somewhere, and the sound of the gardener’s footsteps (it is half-daft + Akim) on the path as he hums his eternal sing-song to himself. Then one + mutters under one’s breath, “No! Neither he nor any one else shall find me + here!” yet still one goes on stripping juicy berries from their conical + white pilasters, and cramming them into one’s mouth. At length, one’s legs + soaked to the knees as one repeats, over and over again, some rubbish + which keeps running in one’s head, and one’s hands and nether limbs + (despite the protection of one’s wet trousers) thoroughly stung with the + nettles, one comes to the conclusion that the sun’s rays are beating too + straight upon one’s head for eating to be any longer desirable, and, + sinking down into the tangle of greenery, one remains there—looking + and listening, and continuing in mechanical fashion to strip off one or + two of the finer berries and swallow them. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock—that is to say, when the ladies had taken their + morning tea and settled down to their occupations—I would repair to + the drawing-room. Near the first window, with its unbleached linen blind + lowered to exclude the sunshine, but through the chink of which the sun + kept throwing brilliant circles of light which hurt the eye to look at + them, there would be standing a screen, with flies quietly parading the + whiteness of its covering. Behind it would be seated Mimi, shaking her + head in an irritable manner, and constantly shifting from spot to spot to + avoid the sunshine as at intervals it darted her from somewhere and laid a + streak of flame upon her hand or face. Through the other three windows the + sun would be throwing three squares of light, crossed with the shadows of + the window-frames, and where one of these patches marked the unstained + floor of the room there would be lying, in accordance with invariable + custom, Milka, with her ears pricked as she watched the flies promenading + the lighted space. Seated on a settee, Katenka would be knitting or + reading aloud as from time to time she gave her white sleeves (looking + almost transparent in the sunshine) an impatient shake, or tossed her head + with a frown to drive away some fly which had settled upon her thick + auburn hair and was now buzzing in its tangles. Lubotshka would either be + walking up and down the room (her hands clasped behind her) until the + moment should arrive when a movement would be made towards the garden, or + playing some piece of which every note had long been familiar to me. For + my own part, I would sit down somewhere, and listen to the music or the + reading until such time as I myself should have an opportunity of + performing on the piano. After luncheon I would condescend to take the + girls out riding (since to go for a mere walk at that hour seemed to me + unsuitable to my years and position in the world), and these excursions of + ours—in which I often took my companions through unaccustomed spots + and dells—were very pleasant. Indeed, on some of these occasions I + grew quite boyish, and the girls would praise my riding and daring, and + pretend that I was their protector. In the evening, if we had no guests + with us, tea (served in the dim verandah), would be followed by a walk + round the homestead with Papa, and then I would stretch myself on my usual + settee, and read and ponder as of old, as I listened to Katenka or + Lubotshka playing. At other times, if I was alone in the drawing-room and + Lubotshka was performing some old-time air, I would find myself laying my + book down, and gazing through the open doorway on to the balcony at the + pendent, sinuous branches of the tall birch-trees where they stood + overshadowed by the coming night, and at the clear sky where, if one + looked at it intently enough, misty, yellowish spots would appear + suddenly, and then disappear again. Next, as I listened to the sounds of + the music wafted from the salon, and to the creaking of gates and the + voices of the peasant women when the cattle returned to the village, I + would suddenly bethink me of Natalia Savishna and of Mamma and of Karl + Ivanitch, and become momentarily sad. But in those days my spirit was so + full of life and hope that such reminiscences only touched me in passing, + and soon fled away again. + </p> + <p> + After supper and (sometimes) a night stroll with some one in the garden + (for I was afraid to walk down the dark avenues by myself), I would repair + to my solitary sleeping-place on the verandah—a proceeding which, + despite the countless mosquitos which always devoured me, afforded me the + greatest pleasure. If the moon was full, I frequently spent whole nights + sitting up on my mattress, looking at the light and shade, listening to + the sounds or stillness, dreaming of one matter and another (but more + particularly of the poetic, voluptuous happiness which, in those days, I + believed was to prove the acme of my felicity) and lamenting that until + now it had only been given to me to IMAGINE things. No sooner had every + one dispersed, and I had seen lights pass from the drawing-room to the + upper chambers (whence female voices would presently be heard, and the + noise of windows opening and shutting), than I would depart to the + verandah, and walk up and down there as I listened attentively to the + sounds from the slumbering mansion. To this day, whenever I feel any + expectation (no matter how small and baseless) of realising a fraction of + some happiness of which I may be dreaming, I somehow invariably fail to + picture to myself what the imagined happiness is going to be like. + </p> + <p> + At the least sound of bare footsteps, or of a cough, or of a snore, or of + the rattling of a window, or of the rustling of a dress, I would leap from + my mattress, and stand furtively gazing and listening, thrown, without any + visible cause, into extreme agitation. But the lights would disappear from + the upper rooms, the sounds of footsteps and talking give place to snores, + the watchman begin his nightly tapping with his stick, the garden grow + brighter and more mysterious as the streaks of light vanished from the + windows, the last candle pass from the pantry to the hall (throwing a + glimmer into the dewy garden as it did so), and the stooping figure of + Foka (decked in a nightcap, and carrying the candle) become visible to my + eyes as he went to his bed. Often I would find a great and fearful + pleasure in stealing over the grass, in the black shadow of the house, + until I had reached the hall window, where I would stand listening with + bated breath to the snoring of the boy, to Foka’s gruntings (in the belief + that no one heard him), and to the sound of his senile voice as he drawled + out the evening prayers. At length even his candle would be extinguished, + and the window slammed down, so that I would find myself utterly alone; + whereupon, glancing nervously from side to side, lest haply I should see + the white woman standing near a flower-bed or by my couch, I would run at + full speed back to the verandah. Then, and only then, I would lie down + with my face to the garden, and, covering myself over, so far as possible, + from the mosquitos and bats, fall to gazing in front of me as I listened + to the sounds of the night and dreamed of love and happiness. + </p> + <p> + At such times everything would take on for me a different meaning. The + look of the old birch trees, with the one side of their curling branches + showing bright against the moonlit sky, and the other darkening the bushes + and carriage-drive with their black shadows; the calm, rich glitter of the + pond, ever swelling like a sound; the moonlit sparkle of the dewdrops on + the flowers in front of the verandah; the graceful shadows of those + flowers where they lay thrown upon the grey stonework; the cry of a quail + on the far side of the pond; the voice of some one walking on the high + road; the quiet, scarcely audible scrunching of two old birch trees + against one another; the humming of a mosquito at my car under the + coverlet; the fall of an apple as it caught against a branch and rustled + among the dry leaves; the leapings of frogs as they approached almost to + the verandah-steps and sat with the moon shining mysteriously on their + green backs—all these things took on for me a strange significance—a + significance of exceeding beauty and of infinite love. Before me would + rise SHE, with long black tresses and a high bust, but always mournful in + her fairness, with bare hands and voluptuous arms. She loved me, and for + one moment of her love I would sacrifice my whole life!—But the moon + would go on rising higher and higher, and shining brighter and brighter, + in the heavens; the rich sparkle of the pond would swell like a sound, and + become ever more and more brilliant, while the shadows would grow blacker + and blacker, and the sheen of the moon more and more transparent: until, + as I looked at and listened to all this, something would say to me that + SHE with the bare hands and voluptuous arms did not represent ALL + happiness, that love for her did not represent ALL good; so that, the more + I gazed at the full, high-riding moon, the higher would true beauty and + goodness appear to me to lie, and the purer and purer they would seem—the + nearer and nearer to Him who is the source of all beauty and all goodness. + And tears of a sort of unsatisfied, yet tumultuous, joy would fill my + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Always, too, I was alone; yet always, too, it seemed to me that, although + great, mysterious Nature could draw the shining disc of the moon to + herself, and somehow hold in some high, indefinite place the pale-blue + sky, and be everywhere around me, and fill of herself the infinity of + space, while I was but a lowly worm, already defiled with the poor, petty + passions of humanity—always it seemed to me that, nevertheless, both + Nature and the moon and I were one. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIII. OUR NEIGHBOURS + </h2> + <p> + ON the first day after our arrival, I had been greatly astonished that + Papa should speak of our neighbours, the Epifanovs, as “nice people,” and + still more so that he should go to call upon them. The fact was that we + had long been at law over some land with this family. When a child, I had + more than once heard Papa raging over the litigation, abusing the + Epifanovs, and warning people (so I understood him) against them. + Likewise, I had heard Jakoff speak of them as “our enemies” and “black + people” and could remember Mamma requesting that their names should never + be mentioned in her presence, nor, indeed, in the house at all. + </p> + <p> + From these data I, as a child, had arrived at the clear and assured + conviction that the Epifanovs were foemen of ours who would at any time + stab or strangle both Papa and his sons if they should ever come across + them, as well as that they were “black people”, in the literal sense of + the term. Consequently, when, in the year that Mamma died, I chanced to + catch sight of Avdotia (“La Belle Flamande”) on the occasion of a visit + which she paid to my mother, I found it hard to believe that she did not + come of a family of negroes. All the same, I had the lowest possible + opinion of the family, and, for all that we saw much of them that summer, + continued to be strongly prejudiced against them. As a matter of fact, + their household only consisted of the mother (a widow of fifty, but a very + well-preserved, cheery old woman), a beautiful daughter named Avdotia, and + a son, Peter, who was a stammerer, unmarried, and of very serious + disposition. + </p> + <p> + For the last twenty years before her husband’s death, Madame Epifanov had + lived apart from him—sometimes in St. Petersburg, where she had + relatives, but more frequently at her village of Mitishtchi, which stood + some three versts from ours. Yet the neighbourhood had taken to + circulating such horrible tales concerning her mode of life that Messalina + was, by comparison, a blameless child: which was why my mother had + requested her name never to be mentioned. As a matter of fact, not + one-tenth part of the most cruel of all gossip—the gossip of + country-houses—is worthy of credence; and although, when I first + made Madame’s acquaintance, she had living with her in the house a clerk + named Mitusha, who had been promoted from a serf, and who, curled, + pomaded, and dressed in a frockcoat of Circassian pattern, always stood + behind his mistress’s chair at luncheon, while from time to time she + invited her guests to admire his handsome eyes and mouth, there was + nothing for gossip to take hold of. I believe, too, that since the time—ten + years earlier—when she had recalled her dutiful son Peter from the + service, she had wholly changed her mode of living. It seems her property + had never been a large one—merely a hundred souls or so—[This + refers, of course, to the days of serfdom.]and that during her previous + life of gaiety she had spent a great deal. Consequently, when, some ten + years ago, those portions of the property which had been mortgaged and + re-mortgaged had been foreclosed upon and compulsorily sold by auction, + she had come to the conclusion that all these unpleasant details of + distress upon and valuation of her property had been due not so much to + failure to pay the interest as to the fact that she was a woman: wherefore + she had written to her son (then serving with his regiment) to come and + save his mother from her embarrassments, and he, like a dutiful son—conceiving + that his first duty was to comfort his mother in her old age—had + straightway resigned his commission (for all that he had been doing well + in his profession, and was hoping soon to become independent), and had + come to join her in the country. + </p> + <p> + Despite his plain face, uncouth demeanour, and fault of stuttering, Peter + was a man of unswerving principles and of the most extraordinary good + sense. Somehow—by small borrowings, sundry strokes of business, + petitions for grace, and promises to repay—he contrived to carry on + the property, and, making himself overseer, donned his father’s greatcoat + (still preserved in a drawer), dispensed with horses and carriages, + discouraged guests from calling at Mitishtchi, fashioned his own sleighs, + increased his arable land and curtailed that of the serfs, felled his own + timber, sold his produce in person, and saw to matters generally. Indeed, + he swore, and kept his oath, that, until all outstanding debts were paid, + he would never wear any clothes than his father’s greatcoat and a corduroy + jacket which he had made for himself, nor yet ride in aught but a country + waggon, drawn by peasants’ horses. This stoical mode of life he sought to + apply also to his family, so far as the sympathetic respect which he + conceived to be his mother’s due would allow of; so that, although, in the + drawing-room, he would show her only stuttering servility, and fulfil all + her wishes, and blame any one who did not do precisely as she bid them, in + his study or his office he would overhaul the cook if she had served up so + much as a duck without his orders, or any one responsible for sending a + serf (even though at Madame’s own bidding) to inquire after a neighbour’s + health or for despatching the peasant girls into the wood to gather wild + raspberries instead of setting them to weed the kitchen-garden. + </p> + <p> + Within four years every debt had been repaid, and Peter had gone to Moscow + and returned thence in a new jacket and tarantass. [A two-wheeled + carriage.] Yet, despite this flourishing position of affairs, he still + preserved the stoical tendencies in which, to tell the truth, he took a + certain vague pride before his family and strangers, since he would + frequently say with a stutter: “Any one who REALLY wishes to see me will + be glad to see me even in my dressing-gown, and to eat nothing but shtchi + [Cabbage-soup.] and kasha [Buckwheat gruel.] at my table.” “That is what I + eat myself,” he would add. In his every word and movement spoke pride + based upon a consciousness of having sacrificed himself for his mother and + redeemed the property, as well as contempt for any one who had not done + something of the same kind. + </p> + <p> + The mother and daughter were altogether different characters from Peter, + as well as altogether different from one another. The former was one of + the most agreeable, uniformly good-tempered, and cheerful women whom one + could possibly meet. Anything attractive and genuinely happy delighted + her. Even the faculty of being pleased with the sight of young people + enjoying themselves (it is only in the best-natured of elderly folk that + one meets with that TRAIT) she possessed to the full. On the other hand, + her daughter was of a grave turn of mind. Rather, she was of that + peculiarly careless, absent-minded, gratuitously distant bearing which + commonly distinguishes unmarried beauties. Whenever she tried to be gay, + her gaiety somehow seemed to be unnatural to her, so that she always + appeared to be laughing either at herself or at the persons to whom she + was speaking or at the world in general—a thing which, possibly, she + had no real intention of doing. Often I asked myself in astonishment what + she could mean when she said something like, “Yes, I know how terribly + good-looking I am,” or, “Of course every one is in love with me,” and so + forth. Her mother was a person always busy, since she had a passion for + housekeeping, gardening, flowers, canaries, and pretty trinkets. Her rooms + and garden, it is true, were small and poorly fitted-up, yet everything in + them was so neat and methodical, and bore such a general air of that + gentle gaiety which one hears expressed in a waltz or polka, that the word + “toy” by which guests often expressed their praise of it all exactly + suited her surroundings. She herself was a “toy”—being petite, + slender, fresh-coloured, small, and pretty-handed, and invariably gay and + well-dressed. The only fault in her was that a slight over-prominence of + the dark-blue veins on her little hands rather marred the general effect + of her appearance. On the other hand, her daughter scarcely ever did + anything at all. Not only had she no love for trifling with flowers and + trinkets, but she neglected her personal exterior, and only troubled to + dress herself well when guests happened to call. Yet, on returning to the + room in society costume, she always looked extremely handsome—save + for that cold, uniform expression of eyes and smile which is common to all + beauties. In fact, her strictly regular, beautiful face and symmetrical + figure always seemed to be saying to you, “Yes, you may look at me.” + </p> + <p> + At the same time, for all the mother’s liveliness of disposition and the + daughter’s air of indifference and abstraction, something told one that + the former was incapable of feeling affection for anything that was not + pretty and gay, but that Avdotia, on the contrary, was one of those + natures which, once they love, are willing to sacrifice their whole life + for the man they adore. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIV. MY FATHER’S SECOND MARRIAGE + </h2> + <p> + MY father was forty-eight when he took as his second wife Avdotia + Vassilievna Epifanov. + </p> + <p> + I suspect that when, that spring, he had departed for the country with the + girls, he had been in that communicatively happy, sociable mood in which + gamblers usually find themselves who have retired from play after winning + large stakes. He had felt that he still had a fortune left to him which, + so long as he did not squander it on gaming, might be used for our + advancement in life. Moreover, it was springtime, he was unexpectedly well + supplied with ready money, he was alone, and he had nothing to do. As he + conversed with Jakoff on various matters, and remembered both the + interminable suit with the Epifanovs and Avdotia’s beauty (it was a long + while since he had seen her), I can imagine him saying: “How do you think + we ought to act in this suit, Jakoff? My idea is simply to let the cursed + land go. Eh? What do you think about it?” I can imagine, too, how, thus + interrogated, Jakoff twirled his fingers behind his back in a deprecatory + sort of way, and proceeded to argue that it all the same, “Peter + Alexandritch, we are in the right.” Nevertheless, I further conjecture, + Papa ordered the dogcart to be got ready, put on his fashionable + olive-coloured driving-coat, brushed up the remnants of his hair, + sprinkled his clothes with scent, and, greatly pleased to think that he + was acting a la seignior (as well as, even more, revelling in the prospect + of soon seeing a pretty woman), drove off to visit his neighbours. + </p> + <p> + I can imagine, too, that when the flustered housemaid ran to inform Peter + Vassilievitch that Monsieur Irtenieff himself had called, Peter answered + angrily, “Well, what has he come for?” and, stepping softly about the + house, first went into his study to put on his old soiled jacket, and then + sent down word to the cook that on no account whatever—no, not even + if she were ordered to do so by the mistress herself—was she to add + anything to luncheon. + </p> + <p> + Since, later, I often saw Papa with Peter, I can form a very good idea of + this first interview between them. I can imagine that, despite Papa’s + proposal to end the suit in a peaceful manner, Peter was morose and + resentful at the thought of having sacrificed his career to his mother, + and at Papa having done nothing of the kind—a by no means surprising + circumstance, Peter probably said to himself. Next, I can see Papa taking + no notice of this ill-humour, but cracking quips and jests, while Peter + gradually found himself forced to treat him as a humorist with whom he + felt offended one moment and inclined to be reconciled the next. Indeed, + with his instinct for making fun of everything, Papa often used to address + Peter as “Colonel;” and though I can remember Peter once replying, with an + unusually violent stutter and his face scarlet with indignation, that he + had never been a c-c-colonel, but only a l-l-lieutenant, Papa called him + “Colonel” again before another five minutes were out. + </p> + <p> + Lubotshka told me that, up to the time of Woloda’s and my arrival from + Moscow, there had been daily meetings with the Epifanovs, and that things + had been very lively, since Papa, who had a genius for arranging, + everything with a touch of originality and wit, as well as in a simple and + refined manner, had devised shooting and fishing parties and fireworks for + the Epifanovs’ benefit. All these festivities—so said Lubotshka—would + have gone off splendidly but for the intolerable Peter, who had spoilt + everything by his puffing and stuttering. After our coming, however, the + Epifanovs only visited us twice, and we went once to their house, while + after St. Peter’s Day (on which, it being Papa’s nameday, the Epifanovs + called upon us in common with a crowd of other guests) our relations with + that family came entirely to an end, and, in future, only Papa went to see + them. + </p> + <p> + During the brief period when I had opportunities of seeing Papa and + Dunetchka (as her mother called Avdotia) together, this is what I remarked + about them. Papa remained unceasingly in the same buoyant mood as had so + greatly struck me on the day after our arrival. So gay and youthful and + full of life and happy did he seem that the beams of his felicity extended + themselves to all around him, and involuntarily communicated to them a + similar frame of mind. He never stirred from Avdotia’s side so long as she + was in the room, but either kept on plying her with sugary-sweet + compliments which made me feel ashamed for him or, with his gaze fixed + upon her with an air at once passionate and complacent, sat hitching his + shoulder and coughing as from time to time he smiled and whispered + something in her ear. Yet throughout he wore the same expression of + raillery as was peculiar to him even in the most serious matters. + </p> + <p> + As a rule, Avdotia herself seemed to catch the infection of the happiness + which sparkled at this period in Papa’s large blue eyes; yet there were + moments also when she would be seized with such a fit of shyness that I, + who knew the feeling well, was full of sympathy and compassion as I + regarded her embarrassment. At moments of this kind she seemed to be + afraid of every glance and every movement—to be supposing that every + one was looking at her, every one thinking of no one but her, and that + unfavourably. She would glance timidly from one person to another, the + colour coming and going in her cheeks, and then begin to talk loudly and + defiantly, but, for the most part, nonsense; until presently, realising + this, and supposing that Papa and every one else had heard her, she would + blush more painfully than ever. Yet Papa never noticed her nonsense, for + he was too much taken up with coughing and with gazing at her with his + look of happy, triumphant devotion. I noticed, too, that, although these + fits of shyness attacked Avdotia, without any visible cause, they not + infrequently ensued upon Papa’s mention of one or another young and + beautiful woman. Frequent transitions from depression to that strange, + awkward gaiety of hers to which I have referred before the repetition of + favourite words and turns of speech of Papa’s; the continuation of + discussions with others which Papa had already begun—all these + things, if my father had not been the principal actor in the matter and I + had been a little older, would have explained to me the relations + subsisting between him and Avdotia. At the time, however, I never surmised + them—no, not even when Papa received from her brother Peter a letter + which so upset him that not again until the end of August did he go to + call upon the Epifanovs’. Then, however, he began his visits once more, + and ended by informing us, on the day before Woloda and I were to return + to Moscow, that he was about to take Avdotia Vassilievna Epifanov to be + his wife. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXV. HOW WE RECEIVED THE NEWS + </h2> + <p> + Yet, even on the eve of the official announcement, every one had learnt of + the matter, and was discussing it. Mimi never left her room that day, and + wept copiously. Katenka kept her company, and only came out for luncheon, + with a grieved expression on her face which was manifestly borrowed from + her mother. Lubotshka, on the contrary, was very cheerful, and told us + after luncheon that she knew of a splendid secret which she was going to + tell no one. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing so splendid about your secret,” said Woloda, who did not + in the least share her satisfaction. “If you were capable of any serious + thought at all, you would understand that it is a very bad lookout for + us.” + </p> + <p> + Lubotshka stared at him in amazement, and said no more. After the meal was + over, Woloda made a feint of taking me by the arm, and then, fearing that + this would seem too much like “affection,” nudged me gently by the elbow, + and beckoned me towards the salon. + </p> + <p> + “You know, I suppose, what the secret is of which Lubotshka was speaking?” + he said when he was sure that we were alone. It was seldom that he and I + spoke together in confidence: with the result that, whenever it came + about, we felt a kind of awkwardness in one another’s presence, and “boys + began to jump about” in our eyes, as Woloda expressed it. On the present + occasion, however, he answered the excitement in my eyes with a grave, + fixed look which said: “You need not be surprised, for we are brothers, + and we have to consider an important family matter.” I understood him, and + he went on: + </p> + <p> + “You know, I suppose, that Papa is going to marry Avdotia Epifanov?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded, for I had already heard so. “Well, it is not a good thing,” + continued Woloda. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he repeated irritably. “Because it will be so pleasant, won’t it, + to have this stuttering ‘colonel’ and all his family for relations! + Certainly she seems nice enough, as yet; but who knows what she will turn + out to be later? It won’t matter much to you or myself, but Lubotshka will + soon be making her debut, and it will hardly be nice for her to have such + a ‘belle mere’ as this—a woman who speaks French badly, and has no + manners to teach her.” + </p> + <p> + Although it seemed odd to hear Woloda criticising Papa’s choice so coolly, + I felt that he was right. + </p> + <p> + “Why is he marrying her?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is a hole-and-corner business, and God only knows why,” he + answered. “All I know is that her brother, Peter, tried to make conditions + about the marriage, and that, although at first Papa would not hear of + them, he afterwards took some fancy or knight-errantry or another into his + head. But, as I say, it is a hole-and-corner business. I am only just + beginning to understand my father “—the fact that Woloda called Papa + “my father” instead of “Papa” somehow hurt me—“and though I can see + that he is kind and clever, he is irresponsible and frivolous to a degree + that—Well, the whole thing is astonishing. He cannot so much as look + upon a woman calmly. You yourself know how he falls in love with every one + that he meets. You know it, and so does Mimi.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “What I say. Not long ago I learnt that he used to be in love with Mimi + herself when he was a young man, and that he used to send her poetry, and + that there really was something between them. Mimi is heart-sore about it + to this day”—and Woloda burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” I cried in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “But the principal thing at this moment,” went on Woloda, becoming serious + again, and relapsing into French, “is to think how delighted all our + relations will be with this marriage! Why, she will probably have + children!” + </p> + <p> + Woloda’s prudence and forethought struck me so forcibly that I had no + answer to make. Just at this moment Lubotshka approached us. + </p> + <p> + “So you know?” she said with a joyful face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Woloda. “Still, I am surprised at you, Lubotshka. You are no + longer a baby in long clothes. Why should you be so pleased because Papa + is going to marry a piece of trash?” + </p> + <p> + At this Lubotshka’s face fell, and she became serious. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Woloda!” she exclaimed. “Why ‘a piece of trash’ indeed? How can you + dare to speak of Avdotia like that? If Papa is going to marry her she + cannot be ‘trash.’” + </p> + <p> + “No, not trash, so to speak, but—” + </p> + <p> + “No ‘buts’ at all!” interrupted Lubotshka, flaring up. “You have never + heard me call the girl whom you are in love with ‘trash!’ How, then, can + you speak so of Papa and a respectable woman? Although you are my elder + brother, I won’t allow you to speak like that! You ought not to!” + </p> + <p> + “Mayn’t I even express an opinion about—” + </p> + <p> + “No, you mayn’t!” repeated Lubotshka. “No one ought to criticise such a + father as ours. Mimi has the right to, but not you, however much you may + be the eldest brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh you don’t understand anything,” said Woloda contemptuously. “Try and + do so. How can it be a good thing that a ‘Dunetchka’ of an Epifanov should + take the place of our dead Mamma?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Lubotshka was silent. Then the tears suddenly came into her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that you were conceited, but I never thought that you could be + cruel,” she said, and left us. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Woloda, pulling a serio-comic face and make-believe, stupid + eyes. “That’s what comes of arguing with them.” Evidently he felt that he + was at fault in having so far forgot himself as to descend to discuss + matters at all with Lubotshka. + </p> + <p> + Next day the weather was bad, and neither Papa nor the ladies had come + down to morning tea when I entered the drawing-room. There had been cold + rain in the night, and remnants of the clouds from which it had descended + were still scudding across the sky, with the sun’s luminous disc (not yet + risen to any great height) showing faintly through them. It was a windy, + damp, grey morning. The door into the garden was standing open, and pools + left by the night’s rain were drying on the damp-blackened flags of the + terrace. The open door was swinging on its iron hinges in the wind, and + all the paths looked wet and muddy. The old birch trees with their naked + white branches, the bushes, the turf, the nettles, the currant-trees, the + elders with the pale side of their leaves turned upwards—all were + dashing themselves about, and looking as though they were trying to wrench + themselves free from their roots. From the avenue of lime-trees showers of + round, yellow leaves were flying through the air in tossing, eddying + circles, and strewing the wet road and soaked aftermath of the hayfield + with a clammy carpet. At the moment, my thoughts were wholly taken up with + my father’s approaching marriage and with the point of view from which + Woloda regarded it. The future seemed to me to bode no good for any of us. + I felt distressed to think that a woman who was not only a stranger but + young should be going to associate with us in so many relations of life, + without having any right to do so—nay, that this young woman was + going to usurp the place of our dead mother. I felt depressed, and kept + thinking more and more that my father was to blame in the matter. + Presently I heard his voice and Woloda’s speaking together in the pantry, + and, not wishing to meet Papa just then, had just left the room when I was + pursued by Lubotshka, who said that Papa wanted to see me. + </p> + <p> + He was standing in the drawing-room, with his hand resting on the piano, + and was gazing in my direction with an air at once grave and impatient. + His face no longer wore the youthful, gay expression which had struck me + for so long, but, on the contrary, looked sad. Woloda was walking about + the room with a pipe in his hand. I approached my father, and bade him + good morning. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my children,” he said firmly, with a lift of his head and in the + peculiarly hurried manner of one who wishes to announce something + obviously unwelcome, but no longer admitting of reconsideration, “you + know, I suppose, that I am going to marry Avdotia Epifanov.” He paused a + moment. “Hitherto I had had no desire for any one to succeed your mother, + but”—and again he paused—“it-it is evidently my fate. + Dunetchka is an excellent, kind girl, and no longer in her first youth. I + hope, therefore, my children, that you will like her, and she, I know, + will be sincerely fond of you, for she is a good woman. And now,” he went + on, addressing himself more particularly to Woloda and myself, and having + the appearance of speaking hurriedly in order to prevent us from + interrupting him, “it is time for you to depart, while I myself am going + to stay here until the New Year, and then to follow you to Moscow with”—again + he hesitated a moment—“my wife and Lubotshka.” It hurt me to see my + father standing as though abashed and at fault before us, so I moved a + little nearer him, but Woloda only went on walking about the room with his + head down, and smoking. + </p> + <p> + “So, my children, that is what your old father has planned to do,” + concluded Papa—reddening, coughing, and offering Woloda and myself + his hands. Tears were in his eyes as he said this, and I noticed, too, + that the hand which he was holding out to Woloda (who at that moment + chanced to be at the other end of the room) was shaking slightly. The + sight of that shaking hand gave me an unpleasant shock, for I remembered + that Papa had served in 1812, and had been, as every one knew, a brave + officer. Seizing the great veiny hand, I covered it with kisses, and he + squeezed mine hard in return. Then, with a sob amid his tears, he suddenly + threw his arms around Lubotshka’s dark head, and kissed her again and + again on the eyes. Woloda pretended that he had dropped his pipe, and, + bending down, wiped his eyes furtively with the back of his hand. Then, + endeavouring to escape notice, he left the room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVI. THE UNIVERSITY + </h2> + <p> + THE wedding was to take place in two weeks’ time, but, as our lectures had + begun already, Woloda and myself were forced to return to Moscow at the + beginning of September. The Nechludoffs had also returned from the + country, and Dimitri (with whom, on parting, I had made an agreement that + we should correspond frequently with the result, of course, that we had + never once written to one another) came to see us immediately after our + arrival, and arranged to escort me to my first lecture on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful sunny day. No sooner had I entered the auditorium than + I felt my personality entirely disappear amid the swarm of light-hearted + youths who were seething tumultuously through every doorway and corridor + under the influence of the sunlight pouring through the great windows. I + found the sense of being a member of this huge community very pleasing, + yet there were few among the throng whom I knew, and that only on terms of + a nod and a “How do you do, Irtenieff?” + </p> + <p> + All around me men were shaking hands and chatting together—from + every side came expressions of friendship, laughter, jests, and badinage. + Everywhere I could feel the tie which bound this youthful society in one, + and everywhere, too, I could feel that it left me out. Yet this impression + lasted for a moment only, and was succeeded, together with the vexation + which it had caused, by the idea that it was best that I should not belong + to that society, but keep to my own circle of gentlemen; wherefore I + proceeded to seat myself upon the third bench, with, as neighbours, Count + B., Baron Z., the Prince R., Iwin, and some other young men of the same + class with none of whom, however, was acquainted save with Iwin and Count + B. Yet the look which these young gentlemen threw at me at once made me + feel that I was not of their set, and I turned to observe what was going + on around me. Semenoff, with grey, matted hair, white teeth, and tunic + flying open, was seated a little distance off, and leaning forward on his + elbows as he nibbled a pen, while the gymnasium student who had come out + first in the examinations had established himself on the front bench, and, + with a black stock coming half-way up his cheek, was toying with the + silver watch-chain which adorned his satin waistcoat. On a bench in a + raised part of the hall I could descry Ikonin (evidently he had contrived + to enter the University somehow!), and hear him fussily proclaiming, in + all the glory of blue piped trousers which completely hid his boots, that + he was now seated on Parnassus. Ilinka—who had surprised me by + giving me a bow not only cold, but supercilious, as though to remind me + that here we were all equals—was just in front of me, with his legs + resting in free and easy style on another bench (a hit, somehow I thought, + at myself), and conversing with a student as he threw occasional glances + in my direction. Iwin’s set by my side were talking in French, yet every + word which I overheard of their conversation seemed to me both stupid and + incorrect (“Ce n’est pas francais,” I thought to myself), while all the + attitudes, utterances, and doings of Semenoff, Ilinka, and the rest struck + me as uniformly coarse, ungentlemanly, and “comme il ne faut pas.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, attached to no particular set, I felt isolated and unable to make + friends, and so grew resentful. One of the students on the bench in front + of me kept biting his nails, which were raw to the quick already, and this + so disgusted me that I edged away from him. In short, I remember finding + my first day a most depressing affair. + </p> + <p> + When the professor entered, and there was a general stir and a cessation + of chatter, I remember throwing a scornful glance at him, as also that he + began his discourse with a sentence which I thought devoid of meaning. I + had expected the lecture to be, from first to last, so clever that not a + word ought to be taken from or added to it. Disappointed in this, I at + once proceeded to draw beneath the heading “First Lecture” with which I + had adorned my beautifully-bound notebook no less than eighteen faces in + profile, joined together in a sort of chaplet, and only occasionally moved + my hand along the page in order to give the professor (who, I felt sure, + must be greatly interested in me) the impression that I was writing + something. In fact, at this very first lecture I came to the decision + which I maintained to the end of my course, namely, that it was + unnecessary, and even stupid, to take down every word said by every + professor. + </p> + <p> + At subsequent lectures, however, I did not feel my isolation so strongly, + since I made several acquaintances and got into the way of shaking hands + and entering into conversation. Yet for some reason or another no real + intimacy ever sprang up between us, and I often found myself depressed and + only feigning cheerfulness. With the set which comprised Iwin and “the + aristocrats,” as they were generally known, I could not make any headway + at all, for, as I now remember, I was always shy and churlish to them, and + nodded to them only when they nodded to me; so that they had little + inducement to desire my acquaintance. With most of the other students, + however, this arose from quite a different cause. As soon as ever I + discerned friendliness on the part of a comrade, I at once gave him to + understand that I went to luncheon with Prince Ivan Ivanovitch and kept my + own drozhki. All this I said merely to show myself in the most favourable + light in his eyes, and to induce him to like me all the more; yet almost + invariably the only result of my communicating to him the intelligence + concerning the drozhki and my relationship to Prince Ivan Ivanovitch was + that, to my astonishment, he at once adopted a cold and haughty bearing + towards me. + </p> + <p> + Among us we had a Crown student named Operoff—a very modest, + industrious, and clever young fellow, who always offered one his hand like + a slab of wood (that is to say, without closing his fingers or making the + slightest movement with them); with the result that his comrades often did + the same to him in jest, and called it the “deal board” way of shaking + hands. He and I nearly always sat next to one another, and discussed + matters generally. In particular he pleased me with the freedom with which + he would criticise the professors as he pointed out to me with great + clearness and acumen the merits or demerits of their respective ways of + teaching and made occasional fun of them. Such remarks I found exceedingly + striking and diverting when uttered in his quiet, mincing voice. + Nevertheless he never let a lecture pass without taking careful notes of + it in his fine handwriting, and eventually we decided to join forces, and + to do our preparation together. Things had progressed to the point of his + always looking pleased when I took my usual seat beside him when, + unfortunately, I one day found it necessary to inform him that, before her + death, my mother had besought my father never to allow us to enter for a + government scholarship, as well as that I myself considered Crown + students, no matter how clever, to be-“well, they are not GENTLEMEN,” I + concluded, though beginning to flounder a little and grow red. At the + moment Operoff said nothing, but at subsequent lectures he ceased to greet + me or to offer me his board-like hand, and never attempted to talk to me, + but, as soon as ever I sat down, he would lean his head upon his arm, and + purport to be absorbed in his notebooks. I was surprised at this sudden + coolness, but looked upon it as infra dig, “pour un jeune homme de bonne + maison” to curry favour with a mere Crown student of an Operoff, and so + left him severely alone—though I confess that his aloofness hurt my + feelings. On one occasion I arrived before him, and, since the lecture was + to be delivered by a popular professor whom students came to hear who did + not usually attend such functions, I found almost every seat occupied. + Accordingly I secured Operoff’s place for myself by spreading my notebooks + on the desk before it; after which I left the room again for a moment. + When I returned I perceived that my paraphernalia had been relegated to + the bench behind, and the place taken by Operoff himself. I remarked to + him that I had already secured it by placing my notebooks there. + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about that,” he replied sharply, yet without looking up at + me. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I placed my notebooks there,” I repeated, purposely trying to + bluster, in the hope of intimidating him. “Every one saw me do it,” I + added, including the students near me in my glance. Several of them looked + at me with curiosity, yet none of them spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Seats cannot be booked here,” said Operoff. “Whoever first sits down in a + place keeps it,” and, settling himself angrily where he was, he flashed at + me a glance of defiance. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that only means that you are a cad,” I said. + </p> + <p> + I have an idea that he murmured something about my being “a stupid young + idiot,” but I decided not to hear it. What would be the use, I asked + myself, of my hearing it? That we should brawl like a couple of manants + over less than nothing? (I was very fond of the word manants, and often + used it for meeting awkward junctures.) Perhaps I should have said + something more had not, at that moment, a door slammed and the professor + (dressed in a blue frockcoat, and shuffling his feet as he walked) + ascended the rostrum. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when the examination was about to come on, and I had need of + some one’s notebooks, Operoff remembered his promise to lend me his, and + we did our preparation together. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVII. AFFAIRS OF THE HEART + </h2> + <p> + Affaires du coeur exercised me greatly that winter. In fact, I fell in + love three times. The first time, I became passionately enamoured of a + buxom lady whom I used to see riding at Freitag’s riding-school; with the + result that every day when she was taking a lesson there (that is to say, + every Tuesday and Friday) I used to go to gaze at her, but always in such + a state of trepidation lest I should be seen that I stood a long way off, + and bolted directly I thought her likely to approach the spot where I was + standing. Likewise, I used to turn round so precipitately whenever she + appeared to be glancing in my direction that I never saw her face well, + and to this day do not know whether she was really beautiful or not. + </p> + <p> + Dubkoff, who was acquainted with her, surprised me one day in the + riding-school, where I was lurking concealed behind the lady’s grooms and + the fur wraps which they were holding, and, having heard from Dimitri of + my infatuation, frightened me so terribly by proposing to introduce me to + the Amazon that I fled incontinently from the school, and was prevented by + the mere thought that possibly he had told her about me from ever entering + the place again, or even from hiding behind her grooms, lest I should + encounter her. + </p> + <p> + Whenever I fell in love with ladies whom I did not know, and especially + married women, I experienced a shyness a thousand times greater than I had + ever felt with Sonetchka. I dreaded beyond measure that my divinity should + learn of my passion, or even of my existence, since I felt sure that, once + she had done so, she would be so terribly offended that I should never be + forgiven for my presumption. And indeed, if the Amazon referred to above + had ever come to know how I used to stand behind the grooms and dream of + seizing her and carrying her off to some country spot—if she had + ever come to know how I should have lived with her there, and how I should + have treated her, it is probable that she would have had very good cause + for indignation! But I always felt that, once I got to know her, she would + straightway divine these thoughts, and consider herself insulted by my + acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + As my second affaire du coeur, I, (for the third time) fell in love with + Sonetchka when I saw her at her sister’s. My second passion for her had + long since come to an end, but I became enamoured of her this third time + through Lubotshka sending me a copy-book in which Sonetchka had copied + some extracts from Lermontoff’s The Demon, with certain of the more subtly + amorous passages underlined in red ink and marked with pressed flowers. + Remembering how Woloda had been wont to kiss his inamorata’s purse last + year, I essayed to do the same thing now; and really, when alone in my + room in the evenings and engaged in dreaming as I looked at a flower or + occasionally pressed it to my lips, I would feel a certain pleasantly + lachrymose mood steal over me, and remain genuinely in love (or suppose + myself to be so) for at least several days. + </p> + <p> + Finally, my third affaire du coeur that winter was connected with the lady + with whom Woloda was in love, and who used occasionally to visit at our + house. Yet, in this damsel, as I now remember, there was not a single + beautiful feature to be found—or, at all events, none of those which + usually pleased me. She was the daughter of a well-known Moscow lady of + light and leading, and, petite and slender, wore long flaxen curls after + the English fashion, and could boast of a transparent profile. Every one + said that she was even cleverer and more learned than her mother, but I + was never in a position to judge of that, since, overcome with craven + bashfulness at the mere thought of her intellect and accomplishments, I + never spoke to her alone but once, and then with unaccountable + trepidation. Woloda’s enthusiasm, however (for the presence of an audience + never prevented him from giving vent to his rapture), communicated itself + to me so strongly that I also became enamoured of the lady. Yet, conscious + that he would not be pleased to know that two brothers were in love with + the same girl, I never told him of my condition. On the contrary, I took + special delight in the thought that our mutual love for her was so pure + that, though its object was, in both cases, the same charming being, we + remained friends and ready, if ever the occasion should arise, to + sacrifice ourselves for one another. Yet I have an idea that, as regards + self-sacrifice, he did not quite share my views, for he was so + passionately in love with the lady that once he was for giving a member of + the diplomatic corps, who was said to be going to marry her, a slap in the + face and a challenge to a duel; but, for my part, I would gladly have + sacrificed my feelings for his sake, seeing that the fact that the only + remark I had ever addressed to her had been on the subject of the dignity + of classical music, and that my passion, for all my efforts to keep it + alive, expired the following week, would have rendered it the more easy + for me to do so. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVIII. THE WORLD + </h2> + <p> + As regards those worldly delights to which I had intended, on entering the + University, to surrender myself in imitation of my brother, I underwent a + complete disillusionment that winter. Woloda danced a great deal, and Papa + also went to balls with his young wife, but I appeared to be thought + either too young or unfitted for such delights, and no one invited me to + the houses where balls were being given. Yet, in spite of my vow of + frankness with Dimitri, I never told him (nor any one else) how much I + should have liked to go to those dances, and how I felt hurt at being + forgotten and (apparently) taken for the philosopher that I pretended to + be. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, a reception was to be given that winter at the Princess + Kornakoff’s, and to it she sent us personal invitations—to myself + among the rest! Consequently, I was to attend my first ball. Before + starting, Woloda came into my room to see how I was dressing myself—an + act on his part which greatly surprised me and took me aback. In my + opinion (it must be understood) solicitude about one’s dress was a + shameful thing, and should be kept under, but he seemed to think it a + thing so natural and necessary that he said outright that he was afraid I + should be put out of countenance on that score. Accordingly, he bid me don + my patent leather boots, and was horrified to find that I wanted to put on + gloves of peau de chamois. Next, he adjusted my watch-chain in a + particular manner, and carried me off to a hairdresser’s near the + Kuznetski Bridge to have my locks coiffured. That done, he withdrew to a + little distance and surveyed me. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he looks right enough now” said he to the hairdresser. “Only—couldn’t + you smooth those tufts of his in front a little?” Yet, for all that + Monsieur Charles treated my forelocks with one essence and another, they + persisted in rising up again when ever I put on my hat. In fact, my curled + and tonsured figure seemed to me to look far worse than it had done + before. My only hope of salvation lay in an affectation of untidiness. + Only in that guise would my exterior resemble anything at all. Woloda, + apparently, was of the same opinion, for he begged me to undo the curls, + and when I had done so and still looked unpresentable, he ceased to regard + me at all, but throughout the drive to the Kornakoffs remained silent and + depressed. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, I entered the Kornakoffs’ mansion boldly enough, and it was + only when the Princess had invited me to dance, and I, for some reason or + another (though I had driven there with no other thought in my head than + to dance well), had replied that I never indulged in that pastime, that I + began to blush, and, left solitary among a crowd of strangers, became + plunged in my usual insuperable and ever-growing shyness. In fact, I + remained silent on that spot almost the whole evening! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, while a waltz was in progress, one of the young princesses + came to me and asked me, with the sort of official kindness common to all + her family, why I was not dancing. I can remember blushing hotly at the + question, but at the same time feeling—for all my efforts to prevent + it—a self-satisfied smile steal over my face as I began talking, in + the most inflated and long-winded French, such rubbish as even now, after + dozens of years, it shames me to recall. It must have been the effect of + the music, which, while exciting my nervous sensibility, drowned (as I + supposed) the less intelligible portion of my utterances. Anyhow, I went + on speaking of the exalted company present, and of the futility of men and + women, until I had got myself into such a tangle that I was forced to stop + short in the middle of a word of a sentence which I found myself powerless + to conclude. + </p> + <p> + Even the worldly-minded young Princess was shocked by my conduct, and + gazed at me in reproach; whereat I burst out laughing. At this critical + moment, Woloda, who had remarked that I was conversing with great + animation, and probably was curious to know what excuses I was making for + not dancing, approached us with Dubkoff. Seeing, however, my smiling face + and the Princess’s frightened mien, as well as overhearing the appalling + rubbish with which I concluded my speech, he turned red in the face, and + wheeled round again. The Princess also rose and left me. I continued to + smile, but in such a state of agony from the consciousness of my stupidity + that I felt ready to sink into the floor. Likewise I felt that, come what + might, I must move about and say something, in order to effect a change in + my position. Accordingly I approached Dubkoff, and asked him if he had + danced many waltzes with her that night. This I feigned to say in a gay + and jesting manner, yet in reality I was imploring help of the very + Dubkoff to whom I had cried “Hold your tongue!” on the night of the + matriculation dinner. By way of answer, he made as though he had not heard + me, and turned away. Next, I approached Woloda, and said with an effort + and in a similar tone of assumed gaiety: “Hullo, Woloda! Are you played + out yet?” He merely looked at me as much as to say, “You wouldn’t speak to + me like that if we were alone,” and left me without a word, in the evident + fear that I might continue to attach myself to his person. + </p> + <p> + “My God! Even my own brother deserts me!” I thought to myself. + </p> + <p> + Yet somehow I had not the courage to depart, but remained standing where I + was until the very end of the evening. At length, when every one was + leaving the room and crowding into the hall, and a footman slipped my + greatcoat on to my shoulders in such a way as to tilt up my cap, I gave a + dreary, half-lachrymose smile, and remarked to no one in particular: + “Comme c’est gracieux!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIX. THE STUDENTS’ FEAST + </h2> + <p> + NOTWITHSTANDING that, as yet, Dimitri’s influence had kept me from + indulging in those customary students’ festivities known as kutezhi or + “wines,” that winter saw me participate in such a function, and carry away + with me a not over-pleasant impression of it. This is how it came about. + </p> + <p> + At a lecture soon after the New Year, Baron Z.—a tall, light-haired + young fellow of very serious demeanour and regular features—invited + us all to spend a sociable evening with him. By “us all”, I mean all the + men more or less “comme il faut”, of our course, and exclusive of Grap, + Semenoff, Operoff, and commoners of that sort. Woloda smiled + contemptuously when he heard that I was going to a “wine” of first course + men, but I looked to derive great and unusual pleasure from this, to me, + novel method of passing the time. Accordingly, punctually at the appointed + hour of eight I presented myself at the Baron’s. + </p> + <p> + Our host, in an open tunic and white waistcoat, received his guests in the + brilliantly lighted salon and drawing-room of the small mansion where his + parents lived—they having given up their reception rooms to him for + the evening for purposes of this party. In the corridor could be seen the + heads and skirts of inquisitive domestics, while in the dining-room I + caught a glimpse of a dress which I imagined to belong to the Baroness + herself. The guests numbered a score, and were all of them students except + Herr Frost (in attendance upon Iwin) and a tall, red-faced gentleman who + was superintending the feast and who was introduced to every one as a + relative of the Baron’s and a former student of the University of Dorpat. + At first, the excessive brilliancy and formal appointments of the + reception-rooms had such a chilling effect upon this youthful company that + every one involuntarily hugged the walls, except a few bolder spirits and + the ex-Dorpat student, who, with his waistcoat already unbuttoned, seemed + to be in every room, and in every corner of every room, at once, and + filled the whole place with his resonant, agreeable, never-ceasing tenor + voice. The remainder of the guests preferred either to remain silent or to + talk in discreet tones of professors, faculties, examinations, and other + serious and interesting matters. Yet every one, without exception, kept + watching the door of the dining-room, and, while trying to conceal the + fact, wearing an expression which said: “Come! It is time to begin.” I too + felt that it was time to begin, and awaited the beginning with pleasurable + impatience. + </p> + <p> + After footmen had handed round tea among the guests, the Dorpat student + asked Frost in Russian: + </p> + <p> + “Can you make punch, Frost?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh ja!” replied Frost with a joyful flourish of his heels, and the other + went on: + </p> + <p> + “Then do you set about it” (they addressed each other in the second person + singular, as former comrades at Dorpat). Frost accordingly departed to the + dining-room, with great strides of his bowed, muscular legs, and, after + some walking backwards and forwards, deposited upon the drawing-room table + a large punchbowl, accompanied by a ten-pound sugar loaf supported on + three students’ swords placed crosswise. Meanwhile, the Baron had been + going round among his guests as they sat regarding the punch-bowl, and + addressing them, with a face of immutable gravity, in the formula: “I beg + of you all to drink of this loving-cup in student fashion, that there may + be good-fellowship among the members of our course. Unbutton your + waistcoats, or take them off altogether, as you please.” Already the + Dorpat student had divested himself of his tunic and rolled up his white + shirt-sleeves above his elbows, and now, planting his feet firmly apart, + he proceeded to set fire to the rum in the punch-bowl. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, put out the candles!” he cried with a sudden shout so loud and + insistent that we seemed all of us to be shouting at once. However, we + still went on silently regarding the punch-bowl and the white shirt of the + Dorpat student, with a feeling that a moment of great solemnity was + approaching. + </p> + <p> + “Put out the lights, Frost, I tell you!” the Dorpat student shouted again. + Evidently the punch was now sufficiently burnt. Accordingly every one + helped to extinguish the candles, until the room was in total darkness + save for a spot where the white shirts and hands of the three students + supporting the sugarloaf on their crossed swords were lit up by the lurid + flames from the bowl. Yet the Dorpat student’s tenor voice was not the + only one to be heard, for in different quarters of the room resounded + chattering and laughter. Many had taken off their tunics (especially + students whose garments were of fine cloth and perfectly new), and I now + did the same, with a consciousness that “IT” was “beginning.” There had + been no great festivity as yet, but I felt assured that things would go + splendidly when once we had begun drinking tumblers of the potion that was + now in course of preparation. + </p> + <p> + At length, the punch was ready, and the Dorpat student, with much + bespattering of the table as he did so, ladled the liquor into tumblers, + and cried: “Now, gentlemen, please!” When we had each of us taken a sticky + tumbler of the stuff into our hands, the Dorpat student and Frost sang a + German song in which the word “Hoch!” kept occurring again and again, + while we joined, in haphazard fashion, in the chorus. Next we clinked + glasses together, shouted something in praise of punch, crossed hands, and + took our first drink of the sweet, strong mixture. After that there was no + further waiting; the “wine” was in full swing. The first glassful + consumed, a second was poured out. Yet, for all that I began to feel a + throbbing in my temples, and that the flames seemed to be turning purple, + and that every one around me was laughing and shouting, things seemed + lacking in real gaiety, and I somehow felt that, as a matter of fact, we + were all of us finding the affair rather dull, and only PRETENDING to be + enjoying it. The Dorpat student may have been an exception, for he + continued to grow more and more red in the face and more and more + ubiquitous as he filled up empty glasses and stained the table with fresh + spots of the sweet, sticky stuff. The precise sequence of events I cannot + remember, but I can recall feeling strongly attracted towards Frost and + the Dorpat student that evening, learning their German song by heart, and + kissing them each on their sticky-sweet lips; also that that same evening + I conceived a violent hatred against the Dorpat student, and was for + pushing him from his chair, but thought better of it; also that, besides + feeling the same spirit of independence towards the rest of the company as + I had felt on the night of the matriculation dinner, my head ached and + swam so badly that I thought each moment would be my last; also that, for + some reason or another, we all of us sat down on the floor and imitated + the movements of rowers in a boat as we sang in chorus, “Down our mother + stream the Volga;” also that I conceived this procedure on our part to be + uncalled for; also that, as I lay prone upon the floor, I crossed my legs + and began wriggling about like a tsigane; [Gipsy dancer.] also that I + ricked some one’s neck, and came to the conclusion that I should never + have done such a thing if I had not been drunk; also that we had some + supper and another kind of liquor, and that I then went to the door to get + some fresh air; also that my head seemed suddenly to grow chill, and that + I noticed, as I drove away, that the scat of the vehicle was so sharply + aslant and slippery that for me to retain my position behind Kuzma was + impossible; also that he seemed to have turned all flabby, and to be + waving about like a dish clout. But what I remember best is that + throughout the whole of that evening I never ceased to feel that I was + acting with excessive stupidity in pretending to be enjoying myself, to + like drinking a great deal, and to be in no way drunk, as well as that + every one else present was acting with equal stupidity in pretending those + same things. All the time I had a feeling that each one of my companions + was finding the festivities as distasteful as I was myself; but, in the + belief that he was the only one doing so, felt himself bound to pretend + that he was very merry, in order not to mar the general hilarity. Also, + strange to state, I felt that I ought to keep up this pretence for the + sole reason that into a punch-bowl there had been poured three bottles of + champagne at nine roubles the bottle and ten bottles of rum at four—making + seventy roubles in all, exclusive of the supper. So convinced of my folly + did I feel that, when, at next day’s lecture, those of my comrades who had + been at Baron Z.‘s party seemed not only in no way ashamed to remember + what they had done, but even talked about it so that other students might + hear of their doings, I felt greatly astonished. They all declared that it + had been a splendid “wine,” that Dorpat students were just the fellows for + that kind of thing, and that there had been consumed at it no less than + forty bottles of rum among twenty guests, some of whom had dropped + senseless under the table! That they should care to talk about such things + seemed strange enough, but that they should care to lie about them seemed + absolutely unintelligible. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XL. MY FRIENDSHIP WITH THE NECHLUDOFFS + </h2> + <p> + That winter, too, I saw a great deal both of Dimitri who often looked us + up, and of his family, with whom I was beginning to stand on intimate + terms. + </p> + <p> + The Nechludoffs (that is to say, mother, aunt, and daughter) always spent + their evenings at home, at which time the Princess liked young men to + visit her—at all events young men of the kind whom she described as + able to spend an evening without playing cards or dancing. Yet such young + fellows must have been few and far between, for, although I went to the + Nechludoffs almost every evening, I seldom found other guests present. + Thus, I came to know the members of this family and their several + dispositions well enough to be able to form clear ideas as to their mutual + relations, and to be quite at home amid the rooms and furniture of their + house. Indeed, so long as no other guests were present, I felt entirely at + my ease. True, at first I used to feel a little uncomfortable when left + alone in the room with Varenika, for I could not rid myself of the idea + that, though far from pretty, she wished me to fall in love with her; but + in time this nervousness of mine began to lessen, since she always looked + so natural, and talked to me so exactly as though she were conversing with + her brother or Lubov Sergievna, that I came to look upon her simply as a + person to whom it was in no way dangerous or wrong to show that I took + pleasure in her company. Throughout the whole of our acquaintance she + appeared to me merely a plain, though not positively ugly, girl, + concerning whom one would never ask oneself the question, + </p> + <p> + “Am I, or am I not, in love with her?” Sometimes I would talk to her + direct, but more often I did so through Dimitri or Lubov Sergievna; and it + was the latter method which afforded me the most pleasure. I derived + considerable gratification from discoursing when she was there, from + hearing her sing, and, in general, from knowing that she was in the same + room as myself; but it was seldom now that any thoughts of what our future + relations might ever be, or that any dreams of self-sacrifice for my + friend if he should ever fall in love with my sister, came into my head. + If any such ideas or fancies occurred to me, I felt satisfied with the + present, and drove away all thoughts about the future. + </p> + <p> + Yet, in spite of this intimacy, I continued to look upon it as my bounden + duty to keep the Nechludoffs in general, and Varenika in particular, in + ignorance of my true feelings and tastes, and strove always to appear + altogether another young man than what I really was—to appear, + indeed, such a young man as could never possibly have existed. I affected + to be “soulful” and would go off into raptures and exclamations and + impassioned gestures whenever I wished it to be thought that anything + pleased me, while, on the other hand, I tried always to seem indifferent + towards any unusual circumstance which I myself perceived or which I had + had pointed out to me. I aimed always at figuring both as a sarcastic + cynic divorced from every sacred tie and as a shrewd observer, as well as + at being accounted logical in all my conduct, precise and methodical in + all my ways of life, and at the same time contemptuous of all materiality. + I may safely say that I was far better in reality than the strange being + into whom I attempted to convert myself; yet, whatever I was or was not, + the Nechludoffs were unfailingly kind to me, and (happily for myself) took + no notice (as it now appears) of my play-acting. Only Lubov Sergievna, + who, I believe, really believed me to be a great egoist, atheist, and + cynic, had no love for me, but frequently disputed what I said, flew into + tempers, and left me petrified with her disjointed, irrelevant utterances. + Yet Dimitri held always to the same strange, something more than friendly, + relations with her, and used to say not only that she was misunderstood by + every one, but that she did him a world of good. This, however, did not + prevent the rest of his family from finding fault with his infatuation. + </p> + <p> + Once, when talking to me about this incomprehensible attachment, Varenika + explained the matter thus: “You see, Dimitri is a selfish person. He is + very proud, and, for all his intellect, very fond of praise, and of + surprising people, and of always being FIRST, while little Auntie” (the + general nickname for Lubov Sergievna) “is innocent enough to admire him, + and at the same time devoid of the tact to conceal her admiration. + Consequently she flatters his vanity—not out of pretence, but + sincerely.” + </p> + <p> + This dictum I laid to heart, and, when thinking it over afterwards, could + not but come to the conclusion that Varenika was very sensible; wherefore + I was glad to award her promotion thenceforth in my regard. Yet, though I + was always glad enough to assign her any credit which might arise from my + discovering in her character any signs of good sense or other moral + qualities, I did so with strict moderation, and never ran to any extreme + pitch of enthusiasm in the process. Thus, when Sophia Ivanovna (who was + never weary of discussing her niece) related to me how, four years ago, + Varenika had suddenly given away all her clothes to some peasant children + without first asking permission to do so, so that the garments had + subsequently to be recovered, I did not at once accept the fact as + entitling Varenika to elevation in my opinion, but went on giving her good + advice about the unpracticalness of such views on property. + </p> + <p> + When other guests were present at the Nechludoffs (among them, sometimes, + Woloda and Dubkoff) I used to withdraw myself to a remote plane, and, with + the complacency and quiet consciousness of strength of an habitue of the + house, listen to what others were saying without putting in a remark + myself. Yet everything that these others said seemed to me so immeasurably + stupid that I used to feel inwardly amazed that such a clever, logical + woman as the Princess, with her equally logical family, could listen to + and answer such rubbish. Had it, however, entered into my head to compare + what, others said with what I myself said when there alone, I should + probably have ceased to feel surprise. Still less should I have continued + to feel surprise had I not believed that the women of our own household—Avdotia, + Lubotshka, and Katenka—were superior to the rest of their sex, for + in that case I should have remembered the kind of things over which + Avdotia and Katenka would laugh and jest with Dubkoff from one end of an + evening to the other. I should have remembered that seldom did an evening + pass but Dubkoff would first have, an argument about something, and then + read in a sententious voice either some verses beginning “Au banquet de la + vie, infortune convive” or extracts from The Demon. In short, I should + have remembered what nonsense they used to chatter for hours at a time. + </p> + <p> + It need hardly be said that, when guests were present, Varenika paid less + attention to me than when we were alone, as well as that I was deprived of + the reading and music which I so greatly loved to hear. When talking to + guests, she lost, in my eyes, her principal charm—that of quiet + seriousness and simplicity. I remember how strange it used to seem to me + to hear her discoursing on theatres and the weather to my brother Woloda! + I knew that of all things in the world he most despised and shunned + banality, and that Varenika herself used to make fun of forced + conversations on the weather and similar matters. Why, then, when meeting + in society, did they both of them talk such intolerable nothings, and, as + it were, shame one another? After talks of this kind I used to feel + silently resentful against Woloda, as well as next day to rally Varenika + on her overnight guests. Yet one result of it was that I derived all the + greater pleasure from being one of the Nechludoffs’ family circle. Also, + for some reason or another I began to prefer meeting Dimitri in his + mother’s drawing-room to being with him alone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XLI. MY FRIENDSHIP WITH THE NECHLUDOFFS + </h2> + <p> + At this period, indeed, my friendship with Dimitri hung by a hair. I had + been criticising him too long not to have discovered faults in his + character, for it is only in first youth that we love passionately and + therefore love only perfect people. As soon as the mists engendered by + love of this kind begin to dissolve, and to be penetrated by the clear + beams of reason, we see the object of our adoration in his true shape, and + with all his virtues and failings exposed. Some of those failings strike + us with the exaggerated force of the unexpected, and combine with the + instinct for novelty and the hope that perfection may yet be found in a + fellow-man to induce us not only to feel coldness, but even aversion, + towards the late object of our adoration. Consequently, desiring it no + longer, we usually cast it from us, and pass onwards to seek fresh + perfection. For the circumstance that that was not what occurred with + respect to my own relation to Dimitri, I was indebted to his stubborn, + punctilious, and more critical than impulsive attachment to myself—a + tie which I felt ashamed to break. Moreover, our strange vow of frankness + bound us together. We were afraid that, if we parted, we should leave in + one another’s power all the incriminatory moral secrets of which we had + made mutual confession. At the same time, our rule of frankness had long + ceased to be faithfully observed, but, on the contrary, proved a frequent + cause of constraint, and brought about strange relations between us. + </p> + <p> + Almost every time that winter that I went upstairs to Dimitri’s room, I + used to find there a University friend of his named Bezobiedoff, with whom + he appeared to be very much taken up. Bezobiedoff was a small, slight + fellow, with a face pitted over with smallpox, freckled, effeminate hands, + and a huge flaxen moustache much in need of the comb. He was invariably + dirty, shabby, uncouth, and uninteresting. To me, Dimitri’s relations with + him were as unintelligible as his relations with Lubov Sergievna, and the + only reason he could have had for choosing such a man for his associate + was that in the whole University there was no worse-looking student than + Bezobiedoff. Yet that alone would have been sufficient to make Dimitri + extend him his friendship, and, as a matter of fact, in all his + intercourse with this fellow he seemed to be saying proudly: “I care + nothing who a man may be. In my eyes every one is equal. I like him, and + therefore he is a desirable acquaintance.” Nevertheless I could not + imagine how he could bring himself to do it, nor how the wretched + Bezobiedoff ever contrived to maintain his awkward position. To me the + friendship seemed a most distasteful one. + </p> + <p> + One night, I went up to Dimitri’s room to try and get him to come down for + an evening’s talk in his mother’s drawing-room, where we could also listen + to Varenika’s reading and singing, but Bezobiedoff had forestalled me + there, and Dimitri answered me curtly that he could not come down, since, + as I could see for myself, he had a visitor with him. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” he added, “what is the fun of sitting there? We had much better + stay HERE and talk.” + </p> + <p> + I scarcely relished the prospect of spending a couple of hours in + Bezobiedoff’s company, yet could not make up my mind to go down alone; + wherefore, cursing my friend’s vagaries, I seated myself in a + rocking-chair, and began rocking myself silently to and fro. I felt vexed + with them both for depriving me of the pleasures of the drawing-room, and + my only hope as I listened irritably to their conversation was that + Bezobiedoff would soon take his departure. “A nice guest indeed to be + sitting with!” I thought to myself when a footman brought in tea and + Dimitri had five times to beg Bezobiedoff to have a cup, for the reason + that the bashful guest thought it incumbent upon him always to refuse it + at first and to say, “No, help yourself.” I could see that Dimitri had to + put some restraint upon himself as he resumed the conversation. He tried + to inveigle me also into it, but I remained glum and silent. + </p> + <p> + “I do not mean to let my face give any one the suspicion that I am bored” + was my mental remark to Dimitri as I sat quietly rocking myself to and fro + with measured beat. Yet, as the moments passed, I found myself—not + without a certain satisfaction—growing more and more inwardly + hostile to my friend. “What a fool he is!” I reflected. “He might be + spending the evening agreeably with his charming family, yet he goes on + sitting with this brute!—will go on doing so, too, until it is too + late to go down to the drawing-room!” Here I glanced at him over the back + of my chair, and thought the general look of his attitude and appearance + so offensive and repellant that at the moment I could gladly have offered + him some insult, even a most serious one. + </p> + <p> + At last Bezobiedoff rose, but Dimitri could not easily let such a + delightful friend depart, and asked him to stay the night. Fortunately, + Bezobiedoff declined the invitation, and departed. Having seen him off, + Dimitri returned, and, smiling a faintly complacent smile as he did so, + and rubbing his hands together (in all probability partly because he had + sustained his character for eccentricity, and partly because he had got + rid of a bore), started to pace the room, with an occasional glance at + myself. I felt more offended with him than ever. “How can he go on walking + about the room and grinning like that?” was my inward reflection. + </p> + <p> + “What are you so angry about?” he asked me suddenly as he halted in front + of my chair. + </p> + <p> + “I am not in the least angry,” I replied (as people always do answer under + such circumstances). “I am merely vexed that you should play-act to me, + and to Bezobiedoff, and to yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “What rubbish!” he retorted. “I never play-act to any one.” + </p> + <p> + “I have in mind our rule of frankness,” I replied, “when I tell you that I + am certain you cannot bear this Bezobiedoff any more than I can. He is an + absolute cad, yet for some inexplicable reason or another it pleases you + to masquerade before him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all! To begin with, he is a splendid fellow, and—” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you it IS so. I also tell you that your friendship for Lubov + Sergievna is founded on the same basis, namely, that she thinks you a + god.” + </p> + <p> + “And I tell you once more that it is not so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know it for myself,” I retorted with the heat of suppressed anger, + and designing to disarm him with my frankness. “I have told you before, + and I repeat it now, that you always seem to like people who say pleasant + things to you, but that, as soon as ever I come to examine your + friendship, I invariably find that there exists no real attachment between + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you are wrong,” said Dimitri with an angry straightening of the + neck in his collar. “When I like people, neither their praise nor their + blame can make any difference to my opinion of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, dreadful though it may seem to you, I confess that I myself often + used to hate my father when he abused me, and to wish that he was dead. In + the same way, you—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak for yourself. I am very sorry that you could ever have been so—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” I cried as I leapt from my chair and faced him with the courage + of exasperation. “It is for YOURSELF that you ought to feel sorry—sorry + because you never told me a word about this fellow. You know that was not + honourable of you. Nevertheless, I will tell YOU what I think of you,” + and, burning to wound him even more than he had wounded me, I set out to + prove to him that he was incapable of feeling any real affection for + anybody, and that I had the best of grounds (as in very truth I believed I + had) for reproaching him. I took great pleasure in telling him all this, + but at the same time forgot that the only conceivable purpose of my doing + so—to force him to confess to the faults of which I had accused him—could + not possibly be attained at the present moment, when he was in a rage. Had + he, on the other hand, been in a condition to argue calmly, I should + probably never have said what I did. + </p> + <p> + The dispute was verging upon an open quarrel when Dimitri suddenly became + silent, and left the room. I pursued him, and continued what I was saying, + but he did not answer. I knew that his failings included a hasty temper, + and that he was now fighting it down; wherefore I cursed his good + resolutions the more in my heart. + </p> + <p> + This, then, was what our rule of frankness had brought us to—the + rule that we should “tell one another everything in our minds, and never + discuss one another with a third person!” Many a time we had exaggerated + frankness to the pitch of making mutual confession of the most shameless + thoughts, and of shaming ourselves by voicing to one another proposals or + schemes for attaining our desires; yet those confessions had not only + failed to draw closer the tie which united us, but had dissipated sympathy + and thrust us further apart, until now pride would not allow him to expose + his feelings even in the smallest detail, and we employed in our quarrel + the very weapons which we had formerly surrendered to one another—the + weapons which could strike the shrewdest blows! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XLII. OUR STEPMOTHER + </h2> + <p> + Notwithstanding that Papa had not meant to return to Moscow before the New + Year, he arrived in October, when there was still good riding to hounds to + be had in the country. He alleged as his reason for changing his mind that + his suit was shortly to come on before the Senate, but Mimi averred that + Avdotia had found herself so ennuyee in the country, and had so often + talked about Moscow and pretended to be unwell, that Papa had decided to + accede to her wishes. “You see, she never really loved him—she and + her love only kept buzzing about his ears because she wanted to marry a + rich man,” added Mimi with a pensive sigh which said: “To think what a + certain other person could have done for him if only he had valued her!” + </p> + <p> + Yet that “certain other person” was unjust to Avdotia, seeing that the + latter’s affection for Papa—the passionate, devoted love of + self-abandonment—revealed itself in her every look and word and + movement. At the same time, that love in no way hindered her, not only + from being averse to parting with her adored husband, but also from + desiring to visit Madame Annette’s and order there a lovely cap, a hat + trimmed with a magnificent blue ostrich feather, and a blue Venetian + velvet bodice which was to expose to the public gaze the snowy, well + shaped breast and arms which no one had yet gazed upon except her husband + and maids. Of course Katenka sided with her mother and, in general, there + became established between Avdotia and ourselves, from the day of her + arrival, the most extraordinary and burlesque order of relations. As soon + as she stepped from the carriage, Woloda assumed an air of great + seriousness and ceremony, and, advancing towards her with much bowing and + scraping, said in the tone of one who is presenting something for + acceptance: + </p> + <p> + “I have the honour to greet the arrival of our dear Mamma, and to kiss her + hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear son!” she replied with her beautiful, unvarying smile. + </p> + <p> + “And do not forget the younger son,” I said as I also approached her hand, + with an involuntary imitation of Woloda’s voice and expression. + </p> + <p> + Had our stepmother and ourselves been certain of any mutual affection, + that expression might have signified contempt for any outward + manifestation of our love. Had we been ill-disposed towards one another, + it might have denoted irony, or contempt for pretence, or a desire to + conceal from Papa (standing by the while) our real relations, as well as + many other thoughts and sentiments. But, as a matter of fact, that + expression (which well consorted with Avdotia’s own spirit) simply + signified nothing at all—simply concealed the absence of any + definite relations between us. In later life I often had occasion to + remark, in the case of other families whose members anticipated among + themselves relations not altogether harmonious, the sort of provisional, + burlesque relations which they formed for daily use; and it was just such + relations as those which now became established between ourselves and our + stepmother. We scarcely ever strayed beyond them, but were polite to her, + conversed with her in French, bowed and scraped before her, and called her + “chere Maman”—a term to which she always responded in a tone of + similar lightness and with her beautiful, unchanging smile. Only the + lachrymose Lubotshka, with her goose feet and artless prattle, really + liked our stepmother, or tried, in her naive and frequently awkward way, + to bring her and ourselves together: wherefore the only person in the + world for whom, besides Papa, Avdotia had a spark of affection was + Lubotshka. Indeed, Avdotia always treated her with a kind of grave + admiration and timid deference which greatly surprised me. + </p> + <p> + From the first Avdotia was very fond of calling herself our stepmother and + hinting that, since children and servants usually adopt an unjust and + hostile attitude towards a woman thus situated, her own position was + likely to prove a difficult one. Yet, though she foresaw all the + unpleasantness of her predicament, she did nothing to escape from it by + (for instance) conciliating this one, giving presents to that other one, + and forbearing to grumble—the last a precaution which it would have + been easy for her to take, seeing that by nature she was in no way + exacting, as well as very good-tempered. Yet, not only did she do none of + these things, but her expectation of difficulties led her to adopt the + defensive before she had been attacked. That is to say, supposing that the + entire household was designing to show her every kind of insult and + annoyance, she would see plots where no plots were, and consider that her + most dignified course was to suffer in silence—an attitude of + passivity as regards winning AFfection which of course led to + DISaffection. Moreover, she was so totally lacking in that faculty of + “apprehension” to which I have already referred as being highly developed + in our household, and all her customs were so utterly opposed to those + which had long been rooted in our establishment, that those two facts + alone were bound to go against her. From the first, her mode of life in + our tidy, methodical household was that of a person only just arrived + there. Sometimes she went to bed late, sometimes early; sometimes she + appeared at luncheon, sometimes she did not; sometimes she took supper, + sometimes she dispensed with it. When we had no guests with us she more + often than not walked about the house in a semi-nude condition, and was + not ashamed to appear before us—even before the servants—in a + white chemise, with only a shawl thrown over her bare shoulders. At first + this Bohemianism pleased me, but before very long it led to my losing the + last shred of respect which I felt for her. What struck me as even more + strange was the fact that, according as we had or had not guests, she was + two different women. The one (the woman figuring in society) was a young + and healthy, but rather cold, beauty, a person richly dressed, neither + stupid nor clever, and unfailingly cheerful. The other woman (the one in + evidence when no guests were present) was considerably past her first + youth, languid, depressed, slovenly, and ennuyee, though affectionate. + Frequently, as I looked at her when, smiling, rosy with the winter air, + and happy in the consciousness of her beauty, she came in from a round of + calls and, taking off her hat, went to look at herself in a mirror; or + when, rustling in her rich, decollete ball dress, and at once shy and + proud before the servants, she was passing to her carriage; or when, at + one of our small receptions at home, she was sitting dressed in a high + silken dress finished with some sort of fine lace about her soft neck, and + flashing her unvarying, but lovely, smile around her—as I looked at + her at such times I could not help wondering what would have been said by + persons who had been ravished to behold her thus if they could have seen + her as I often saw her, namely, when, waiting in the lonely midnight hours + for her husband to return from his club, she would walk like a shadow from + room to room, with her hair dishevelled and her form clad in a sort of + dressing-jacket. Presently, she would sit down to the piano and, her brows + all puckered with the effort, play over the only waltz that she knew; + after which she would pick up a novel, read a few pages somewhere in the + middle of it, and throw it aside. Next, repairing in person to the + dining-room, so as not to disturb the servants, she would get herself a + cucumber and some cold veal, and eat it standing by the window-sill—then + once more resume her weary, aimless, gloomy wandering from room to room. + But what, above all other things, caused estrangement between us was that + lack of understanding which expressed itself chiefly in the peculiar air + of indulgent attention with which she would listen when any one was + speaking to her concerning matters of which she had no knowledge. It was + not her fault that she acquired the unconscious habit of bending her head + down and smiling slightly with her lips only when she found it necessary + to converse on topics which did not interest her (which meant any topic + except herself and her husband); yet that smile and that inclination of + the head, when incessantly repeated, could become unbearably wearisome. + Also, her peculiar gaiety—which always sounded as though she were + laughing at herself, at you, and at the world in general—was gauche + and anything but infectious, while her sympathy was too evidently forced. + Lastly, she knew no reticence with regard to her ceaseless rapturising to + all and sundry concerning her love for Papa. Although she only spoke the + truth when she said that her whole life was bound up with him, and + although she proved it her life long, we considered such unrestrained, + continual insistence upon her affection for him bad form, and felt more + ashamed for her when she was descanting thus before strangers even than we + did when she was perpetrating bad blunders in French. Yet, although, as I + have said, she loved her husband more than anything else in the world, and + he too had a great affection for her (or at all events he had at first, + and when he saw that others besides himself admired her beauty), it seemed + almost as though she purposely did everything most likely to displease him—simply + to prove to him the strength of her love, her readiness to sacrifice + herself for his sake, and the fact that her one aim in life was to win his + affection! She was fond of display, and my father too liked to see her as + a beauty who excited wonder and admiration; yet she sacrificed her + weakness for fine clothes to her love for him, and grew more and more + accustomed to remain at home in a plain grey blouse. Again, Papa + considered freedom and equality to be indispensable conditions of family + life, and hoped that his favourite Lubotshka and his kind-hearted young + wife would become sincere friends; yet once again Avdotia sacrificed + herself by considering it incumbent upon her to pay the “real mistress of + the house,” as she called Lubotshka, an amount of deference which only + shocked and annoyed my father. Likewise, he played cards a great deal that + winter, and lost considerable sums towards the end of it, wherefore, + unwilling, as usual, to let his gambling affairs intrude upon his family + life, he began to preserve complete secrecy concerning his play; yet + Avdotia, though often ailing, as well as, towards the end of the winter, + enceinte, considered herself bound always to sit up (in a grey blouse, and + with her hair dishevelled) for my father when, at, say, four or five + o’clock in the morning, he returned home from the club ashamed, depleted + in pocket, and weary. She would ask him absent-mindedly whether he had + been fortunate in play, and listen with indulgent attention, little nods + of her head, and a faint smile upon her face as he told her of his doings + at the club and begged her, for about the hundredth time, never to sit up + for him again. Yet, though Papa’s winnings or losings (upon which his + substance practically depended) in no way interested her, she was always + the first to meet him when he returned home in the small hours of the + morning. This she was incited to do, not only by the strength of her + devotion, but by a certain secret jealousy from which she suffered. No one + in the world could persuade her that it was REALLY from his club, and not + from a mistress’s, that Papa came home so late. She would try to read love + secrets in his face, and, discerning none there, would sigh with a sort of + enjoyment of her grief, and give herself up once more to the contemplation + of her unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + As the result of these and many other constant sacrifices which occurred + in Papa’s relations with his wife during the latter months of that winter + (a time when he lost much, and was therefore out of spirits), there + gradually grew up between the two an intermittent feeling of tacit + hostility—of restrained aversion to the object of devotion of the + kind which expresses itself in an unconscious eagerness to show the object + in question every possible species of petty annoyance. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XLIII. NEW COMRADES + </h2> + <p> + The winter had passed imperceptibly and the thaw begun when the list of + examinations was posted at the University, and I suddenly remembered that + I had to return answers to questions in eighteen subjects on which I had + heard lectures delivered, but with regard to some of which I had taken no + notes and made no preparation whatever. It seems strange that the question + “How am I going to pass?” should never have entered my head, but the truth + is that all that winter I had been in such a state of haze through the + delights of being both grown-up and “comme il faut” that, whenever the + question of the examinations had occurred to me, I had mentally compared + myself with my comrades, and thought to myself, “They are certain to pass, + and as most of them are not ‘comme il faut,’ and I am therefore their + personal superior, I too am bound to come out all right.” In fact, the + only reason why I attended lectures at all was that I might become an + habitue of the University, and obtain Papa’s leave to go in and out of the + house. Moreover, I had many acquaintances now, and often enjoyed myself + vastly at the University. I loved the racket, talking, and laughter in the + auditorium, the opportunities for sitting on a back bench, and letting the + measured voice of the professor lure one into dreams as one contemplated + one’s comrades, the occasional runnings across the way for a snack and a + glass of vodka (sweetened by the fearful joy of knowing that one might be + hauled before the professor for so doing), the stealthy closing of the + door as one returned to the auditorium, and the participation in “course + versus course” scuffles in the corridors. All this was very enjoyable. + </p> + <p> + By the time, however, that every one had begun to put in a better + attendance at lectures, and the professor of physics had completed his + course and taken his leave of us until the examinations came on, and the + students were busy collecting their notebooks and arranging to do their + preparation in parties, it struck me that I also had better prepare for + the ordeal. Operoff, with whom I still continued on bowing, but otherwise + most frigid, terms, suddenly offered not only to lend me his notebooks, + but to let me do my preparation with himself and some other students. I + thanked him, and accepted the invitation—hoping by that conferment + of honour completely to dissipate our old misunderstanding; but at the + same time I requested that the gatherings should always be held at my + home, since my quarters were so splendid! To this the students replied + that they meant to take turn and turn about—sometimes to meet at one + fellow’s place, sometimes at another’s, as might be most convenient. + </p> + <p> + The first of our reunions was held at Zuchin’s, who had a small + partition-room in a large building on the Trubni Boulevard. The opening + night I arrived late, and entered when the reading aloud had already + begun. The little apartment was thick with tobacco-smoke, while on the + table stood a bottle of vodka, a decanter, some bread, some salt, and a + shin-bone of mutton. Without rising, Zuchin asked me to have some vodka + and to doff my tunic. + </p> + <p> + “I expect you are not accustomed to such entertainment,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Every one was wearing a dirty cotton shirt and a dickey. Endeavouring not + to show my contempt for the company, I took off my tunic, and lay down in + a sociable manner on the sofa. Zuchin went on reading aloud and correcting + himself with the help of notebooks, while the others occasionally stopped + him to ask a question, which he always answered with ability, correctness, + and precision. I listened for a time with the rest, but, not understanding + much of it, since I had not been present at what had been read before, + soon interpolated a question. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, old fellow! It will be no good for you to listen if you do not + know the subject,” said Zuchin. “I will lend you my notebooks, and then + you can read it up by to-morrow, and I will explain it to you.” + </p> + <p> + I felt rather ashamed of my ignorance. Also, I felt the truth of what he + said; so I gave up listening, and amused myself by observing my new + comrades. According to my classification of humanity, into persons “comme + il faut” and persons not “comme il faut,” they evidently belonged to the + latter category, and so aroused in me not only a feeling of contempt, but + also a certain sensation of personal hostility, for the reason that, + though not “comme il faut,” they accounted me their equal, and actually + patronised me in a sort of good-humoured fashion. What in particular + excited in me this feeling was their feet, their dirty nails and fingers, + a particularly long talon on Operoff’s obtrusive little finger, their red + shirts, their dickeys, the chaff which they good-naturedly threw at one + another, the dirty room, a habit which Zuchin had of continually snuffling + and pressing a finger to his nose, and, above all, their manner of + speaking—that is to say, their use and intonation of words. For + instance, they said “flat” for fool, “just the ticket” for exactly, + “grandly” for splendidly, and so on—all of which seemed to me either + bookish or disagreeably vulgar. Still more was my “comme il faut” + refinement disturbed by the accents which they put upon certain Russian—and, + still more, upon foreign—words. Thus they said dieYATelnost for + DIEyatelnost, NARochno for naROChno, v’KAMinie for v’kaMINie, SHAKespeare + for ShakesPEARe, and so forth. + </p> + <p> + Yet, for all their insuperably repellent exterior, I could detect + something good in these fellows, and envied them the cheerful + good-fellowship which united them in one. Consequently, I began to feel + attracted towards them, and made up my mind that, come what might, I would + become of their number. The kind and honourable Operoff I knew already, + and now the brusque, but exceptionally clever, Zuchin (who evidently took + the lead in this circle) began to please me greatly. He was a dark, + thick-set little fellow, with a perennially glistening, polished face, but + one that was extremely lively, intellectual, and independent in its + expression. That expression it derived from a low, but prominent, + forehead, deep black eyes, short, bristly hair, and a thick, dark beard + which looked as though it stood in constant need of trimming. Although, + too, he seemed to think nothing of himself (a trail which always pleased + me in people), it was clear that he never let his brain rest. He had one + of those expressive faces which, a few hours after you have seen them for + the first time, change suddenly and entirely to your view. Such a change + took place, in my eyes, with regard to Zuchin’s face towards the end of + that evening. Suddenly, I seemed to see new wrinkles appear upon its + surface, its eyes grow deeper, its smile become a different one, and the + whole face assume such an altered aspect that I scarcely recognised it. + </p> + <p> + When the reading was ended, Zuchin, the other students, and myself + manifested our desire to be “comrades all” by drinking vodka until little + remained in the bottle. Thereupon Zuchin asked if any one had a + quarter-rouble to spare, so that he could send the old woman who looked + after him to buy some more; yet, on my offering to provide the money, he + made as though he had not heard me, and turned to Operoff, who pulled out + a purse sewn with bugles, and handed him the sum required. + </p> + <p> + “And mind you don’t get drunk,” added the giver, who himself had not + partaken of the vodka. + </p> + <p> + “By heavens!” answered Zuchin as he sucked the marrow out of a mutton bone + (I remember thinking that it must be because he ate marrow that he was so + clever). “By heavens!” he went on with a slight smile (and his smile was + of the kind that one involuntarily noticed, and somehow felt grateful + for), “even if I did get drunk, there would be no great harm done. I + wonder which of us two could look after himself the better—you or I? + Anyway I am willing to make the experiment,” and he slapped his forehead + with mock boastfulness. “But what a pity it is that Semenoff has + disappeared! He has gone and completely hidden himself somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, the grey-haired Semenoff who had comforted me so much at my + first examination by being worse dressed than myself, and who, after + passing the second examination, had attended his lectures regularly during + the first month, had disappeared thereafter from view, and never been seen + at the University throughout the latter part of the course. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” asked some one. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know” replied Zuchin. “He has escaped my eye altogether. Yet + what fun I used to have with him! What fire there was in the man! and what + an intellect! I should be indeed sorry if he has come to grief—and + come to grief he probably has, for he was no mere boy to take his + University course in instalments.” + </p> + <p> + After a little further conversation, and agreeing to meet again the next + night at Zuchin’s, since his abode was the most central point for us all, + we began to disperse. As, one by one, we left the room, my conscience + started pricking me because every one seemed to be going home on foot, + whereas I had my drozhki. Accordingly, with some hesitation I offered + Operoff a lift. Zuchin came to the door with us, and, after borrowing a + rouble of Operoff, went off to make a night of it with some friends. As we + drove along, Operoff told me a good deal about Zuchin’s character and mode + of life, and on reaching home it was long before I could get to sleep for + thinking of the new acquaintances I had made. For many an hour, as I lay + awake, I kept wavering between the respect which their knowledge, + simplicity, and sense of honour, as well as the poetry of their youth and + courage, excited in my regard, and the distaste which I felt for their + outward man. In spite of my desire to do so, it was at that time literally + impossible for me to associate with them, since our ideas were too wholly + at variance. For me, life’s meaning and charm contained an infinitude of + shades of which they had not an inkling, and vice versa. The greatest + obstacles of all, however, to our better acquaintance I felt to be the + twenty roubles’ worth of cloth in my tunic, my drozhki, and my white linen + shirt; and they appeared to me most important obstacles, since they made + me feel as though I had unwittingly insulted these comrades by displaying + such tokens of my wealth. I felt guilty in their eyes, and as though, + whether I accepted or rejected their acquittal and took a line of my own, + I could never enter into equal and unaffected relations with them. Yet to + such an extent did the stirring poetry of the courage which I could detect + in Zuchin (in particular) overshadow the coarse, vicious side of his + nature that the latter made no unpleasant impression upon me. + </p> + <p> + For a couple of weeks I visited Zuchin’s almost every night for purposes + of work. Yet I did very little there, since, as I have said, I had lost + ground at the start, and, not having sufficient grit in me to catch up my + companions by solitary study, was forced merely to PRETEND that I was + listening to and taking in all they were reading. I have an idea, too, + that they divined my pretence, since I often noticed that they passed over + points which they themselves knew without first inquiring of me whether I + did the same. Yet, day by day, I was coming to regard the vulgarity of + this circle with more indulgence, to feel increasingly drawn towards its + way of life, and to find in it much that was poetical. Only my word of + honour to Dimitri that I would never indulge in dissipation with these new + comrades kept me from deciding also to share their diversions. + </p> + <p> + Once, I thought I would make a display of my knowledge of literature, + particularly French literature, and so led the conversation to that theme. + Judge, then, of my surprise when I discovered that not only had my + companions been reading the foreign passages in Russian, but that they had + studied far more foreign works than I had, and knew and could appraise + English, and even Spanish, writers of whom I had never so much as heard! + Likewise, Pushkin and Zhukovski represented to them LITERATURE, and not, + as to myself, certain books in yellow covers which I had once read and + studied when a child. For Dumas and Sue they had an almost equal contempt, + and, in general, were competent to form much better and clearer judgments + on literary matters than I was, for all that I refused to recognise the + fact. In knowledge of music, too, I could not beat them, and was + astonished to find that Operoff played the violin, and another student the + cello and piano, while both of them were members of the University + orchestra, and possessed a wide knowledge of and appreciation of good + music. In short, with the exception of the French and German languages, my + companions were better posted at every point than I was, yet not the least + proud of the fact. True, I might have plumed myself on my position as a + man of the world, but Woloda excelled me even in that. Wherein, then, lay + the height from which I presumed to look down upon these comrades? In my + acquaintanceship with Prince Ivan Ivanovitch? In my ability to speak + French? In my drozhki? In my linen shirt? In my finger-nails? “Surely + these things are all rubbish,” was the thought which would come flitting + through my head under the influence of the envy which the good-fellowship + and kindly, youthful gaiety displayed around me excited in my breast. + Every one addressed his interlocutor in the second person singular. True, + the familiarity of this address almost approximated to rudeness, yet even + the boorish exterior of the speaker could not conceal a constant endeavour + never to hurt another one’s feelings. The terms “brute” or “swine,” when + used in this good-natured fashion, only convulsed me, and gave me cause + for inward merriment. In no way did they offend the person addressed, or + prevent the company at large from remaining on the most sincere and + friendly footing. In all their intercourse these youths were delicate and + forbearing in a way that only very poor and very young men can be. However + much I might detect in Zuchin’s character and amusements an element of + coarseness and profligacy, I could also detect the fact that his + drinking-bouts were of a very different order to the puerility with burnt + rum and champagne in which I had participated at Baron Z.‘s. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XLIV. ZUCHIN AND SEMENOFF + </h2> + <p> + Although I do not know what class of society Zuchin belonged to, I know + that, without the help either of means or social position, he had + matriculated from the Seventh Gymnasium. At that time he was eighteen—though + he looked much older—and very clever, especially in his powers of + assimilation. To him it was easier to survey the whole of some complicated + subject, to foresee its various parts and deductions, than to use that + knowledge, when gained, for reasoning out the exact laws to which those + deductions were due. He knew that he was clever, and of the fact he was + proud; yet from that very pride arose the circumstance that he treated + every one with unvarying simplicity and good-nature. Moreover, his + experience of life must have been considerable, for already he had + squandered much love, friendship, activity, and money. Though poor and + moving only in the lower ranks of society, there was nothing which he had + ever attempted for which he did not thenceforth feel the contempt, the + indifference, or the utter disregard which were bound to result from his + attaining his goal too easily. In fact, the very ardour with which he + applied himself to a new pursuit seemed to be due to his contempt for what + he had already attained, since his abilities always led him to success, + and therefore to a certain right to despise it. With the sciences it was + the same. Though little interested in them, and taking no notes, he knew + mathematics thoroughly, and was uttering no vain boast when he said that + he could beat the professor himself. Much of what he heard said in + lectures he thought rubbish, yet with his peculiar habit of unconsciously + practical roguishness he feigned to subscribe to all that the professors + thought important, and every professor adored him. True, he was outspoken + to the authorities, but they none the less respected him. Besides + disliking and despising the sciences, he despised all who laboured to + attain what he himself had mastered so easily, since the sciences, as he + understood them, did not occupy one-tenth part of his powers. In fact, + life, as he saw it from the student’s standpoint, contained nothing to + which he could devote himself wholly, and his impetuous, active nature (as + he himself often said) demanded life complete: wherefore he frequented the + drinking-bout in so far as he could afford it, and surrendered himself to + dissipation chiefly out of a desire to get as far away from himself as + possible. Consequently, just as the examinations were approaching, + Operoff’s prophecy to me came true, for Zuchin wasted two whole weeks in + this fashion, and we had to do the latter part of our preparation at + another student’s. Yet at the first examination he reappeared with pale, + haggard face and tremulous hands, and passed brilliantly into the second + course! + </p> + <p> + The company of roisterers of which Zuchin had been the leader since its + formation at the beginning of the term consisted of eight students, among + whom, at first, had been numbered Ikonin and Semenoff; but the former had + left under the strain of the continuous revelry in which the band had + indulged in the early part of the term, and the latter seceded later for + reasons which were never wholly explained. In its early days this band had + been looked upon with awe by all the fellows of our course, and had had + its exploits much discussed. Of these exploits the leading heroes had been + Zuchin and, towards the end of the term, Semenoff, but the latter had come + to be generally shunned, and to cause disturbances on the rare occasions + when he attended a lecture. Just before the examinations began, he rounded + off his drinking exploits in a most energetic and original fashion, as I + myself had occasion to witness (through my acquaintanceship with Zuchin). + This is how it was. One evening we had just assembled at Zuchin’s, and + Operoff, reinforcing a candlestick with a candle stuck in a bottle, had + just plunged his nose into his notebooks and begun to read aloud in his + thin voice from his neatly-written notes on physics, when the landlady + entered the room, and informed Zuchin that some one had brought a note for + him... [The remainder of this chapter is omitted in the original.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XLV. I COME TO GRIEF + </h2> + <p> + At length the first examination—on differentials and integrals—drew + near, but I continued in a vague state which precluded me from forming any + clear idea of what was awaiting me. Every evening, after consorting with + Zuchin and the rest, the thought would occur to me that there was + something in my convictions which I must change—something wrong and + mistaken; yet every morning the daylight would find me again satisfied to + be “comme il faut,” and desirous of no change whatsoever. + </p> + <p> + Such was the frame of mind in which I attended for the first examination. + I seated myself on the bench where the princes, counts, and barons always + sat, and began talking to them in French, with the not unnatural result + that I never gave another thought to the answers which I was shortly to + return to questions in a subject of which I knew nothing. I gazed supinely + at other students as they went up to be examined, and even allowed myself + to chaff some of them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Grap,” I said to Ilinka (who, from our first entry into the + University, had shaken off my influence, had ceased to smile when I spoke + to him, and always remained ill-disposed towards me), “have you survived + the ordeal?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” retorted Ilinka. “Let us see if YOU can do so.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled contemptuously at the answer, notwithstanding that the doubt + which he had expressed had given me a momentary shock. Once again, + however, indifference overlaid that feeling, and I remained so entirely + absent-minded and supine that, the very moment after I had been examined + (a mere formality for me, as it turned out) I was making a dinner + appointment with Baron Z. When called out with Ikonin, I smoothed the + creases in my uniform, and walked up to the examiner’s table with perfect + sang froid. + </p> + <p> + True, a slight shiver of apprehension ran down my back when the young + professor—the same one as had examined me for my matriculation—looked + me straight in the face as I reached across to the envelope containing the + tickets. Ikonin, though taking a ticket with the same plunge of his whole + body as he had done at the previous examinations, did at least return some + sort of an answer this time, though a poor one. I, on the contrary, did + just as he had done on the two previous occasions, or even worse, since I + took a second ticket, yet for a second time returned no answer. The + professor looked me compassionately in the face, and said in a quiet, but + determined, voice: + </p> + <p> + “You will not pass into the second course, Monsieur Irtenieff. You had + better not complete the examinations. The faculty must be weeded out. The + same with you, Monsieur Ikonin.” + </p> + <p> + Ikonin implored leave to finish the examinations, as a great favour, but + the professor replied that he (Ikonin) was not likely to do in two days + what he had not succeeded in doing in a year, and that he had not the + smallest chance of passing. Ikonin renewed his humble, piteous appeals, + but the professor was inexorable. + </p> + <p> + “You can go, gentlemen,” he remarked in the same quiet, resolute voice. + </p> + <p> + I was only too glad to do so, for I felt ashamed of seeming, by my silent + presence, to be joining in Ikonin’s humiliating prayers for grace. I have + no recollection of how I threaded my way through the students in the hall, + nor of what I replied to their questions, nor of how I passed into the + vestibule and departed home. I was offended, humiliated, and genuinely + unhappy. + </p> + <p> + For three days I never left my room, and saw no one, but found relief in + copious tears. I should have sought a pistol to shoot myself if I had had + the necessary determination for the deed. I thought that Ilinka Grap would + spit in my face when he next met me, and that he would have the right to + do so; that Operoff would rejoice at my misfortune, and tell every one of + it; that Kolpikoff had justly shamed me that night at the restaurant; that + my stupid speeches to Princess Kornikoff had had their fitting result; and + so on, and so on. All the moments in my life which had been for me most + difficult and painful recurred to my mind. I tried to blame some one for + my calamity, and thought that some one must have done it on purpose—must + have conspired a whole intrigue against me. Next, I murmured against the + professors, against my comrades, Woloda, Dimitri, and Papa (the last for + having sent me to the University at all). Finally, I railed at Providence + for ever having let me see such ignominy. Believing myself ruined for ever + in the eyes of all who knew me, I besought Papa to let me go into the + hussars or to the Caucasus. Naturally, Papa was anything but pleased at + what had happened; yet, on seeing my passionate grief, he comforted me by + saying that, though it was a bad business, it might yet be mended by my + transferring to another faculty. Woloda, who also saw nothing very + terrible in my misfortune, added that at least I should not be put out of + countenance in a new faculty, since I should have new comrades there. As + for the ladies of the household, they neither knew nor cared what either + an examination or a plucking meant, and condoled with me only because they + saw me in such distress. Dimitri came to see me every day, and was very + kind and consolatory throughout; but for that very reason he seemed to me + to have grown colder than before. It always hurt me and made me feel + uncomfortable when he came up to my room and seated himself in silence + beside me, much as a doctor might scat himself by the bedside of an + awkward patient. Sophia Ivanovna and Varenika sent me books for which I + had expressed a wish, as also an invitation to go and see them, but in + that very thoughtfulness of theirs I saw only proud, humiliating + condescension to one who had fallen beyond forgiveness. Although, in three + days’ time, I grew calmer, it was not until we departed for the country + that I left the house, but spent the time in nursing my grief and + wandering, fearful of all the household, through the various rooms. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as I was sitting deep in thought and listening to Avdotia + playing her waltz, I suddenly leapt to my feet, ran upstairs, got out the + copy-book whereon I had once inscribed “Rules of My Life,” opened it, and + experienced my first moment of repentance and moral resolution. True, I + burst into tears once more, but they were no longer tears of despair. + Pulling myself together, I set about writing out a fresh set of rules, in + the assured conviction that never again would I do a wrong action, waste a + single moment on frivolity, or alter the rules which I now decided to + frame. + </p> + <p> + How long that moral impulse lasted, what it consisted of, and what new + principles I devised for my moral growth I will relate when speaking of + the ensuing and happier portion of my early manhood. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Youth, by Leo Tolstoy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUTH *** + +***** This file should be named 2637-h.htm or 2637-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/3/2637/ + +Produced by Martin Adamson, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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