Nadya Zalenin had just come back with her
mamma from the theatre where she had seen a performance of "Yevgeny
Onyegin." As soon as she reached her own room she threw off her dress, let
down her hair, and in her petticoat and white dressing-jacket hastily sat down
to the table to write a letter like Tatyana's.
"I love you," she wrote, "but
you do not love me, do not love me!"
She wrote it and laughed.
She was only sixteen and did not yet love
anyone. She knew that an officer called Gorny and a student called Gruzdev
loved her, but now after the opera she wanted to be doubtful of their love. To
be unloved and unhappy -- how interesting that was. There is something
beautiful, touching, and poetical about it when one loves and the other is
indifferent. Onyegin was interesting because he was not in love at all, and
Tatyana was fascinating because she was so much in love; but if they had been
equally in love with each other and had been happy, they would perhaps have
seemed dull.
"Leave off declaring that you love
me," Nadya went on writing, thinking of Gorny. "I cannot believe it.
You are very clever, cultivated, serious, you have immense talent, and perhaps
a brilliant future awaits you, while I am an uninteresting girl of no
importance, and you know very well that I should be only a hindrance in your
life. It is true that you were attracted by me and thought you had found your
ideal in me, but that was a mistake, and now you are asking yourself in
despair: 'Why did I meet that girl?' And only your goodness of heart prevents
you from owning it to yourself. . . ."
Nadya felt sorry for herself, she began to
cry, and went on:
"It is hard for me to leave my mother and
my brother, or I should take a nun's veil and go whither chance may lead me.
And you would be left free and would love another. Oh, if I were dead! "
She could not make out what she had written
through her tears; little rainbows were quivering on the table, on the floor,
on the ceiling, as though she were looking through a prism. She could not
write, she sank back in her easy-chair and fell to thinking of Gorny.
My God! how interesting, how fascinating men
were! Nadya recalled the fine expression, ingratiating, guilty, and soft, which
came into the officer's face when one argued about music with him, and the
effort he made to prevent his voice from betraying his passion. In a society
where cold haughtiness and indifference are regarded as signs of good breeding
and gentlemanly bearing, one must conceal one's passions. And he did try to
conceal them, but he did not succeed, and everyone knew very well that he had a
passionate love of music. The endless discussions about music and the bold
criticisms of people who knew nothing about it kept him always on the strain;
he was frightened, timid, and silent. He played the piano magnificently, like a
professional pianist, and if he had not been in the army he would certainly
have been a famous musician.
The tears on her eyes dried. Nadya remembered
that Gorny had declared his love at a Symphony concert, and again downstairs by
the hatstand where there was a tremendous draught blowing in all directions.
"I am very glad that you have at last
made the acquaintance of Gruzdev, our student friend," she went on
writing. "He is a very clever man, and you will be sure to like him. He
came to see us yesterday and stayed till two o'clock. We were all delighted
with him, and I regretted that you had not come. He said a great deal that was
remarkable."
Nadya laid her arms on the table and leaned
her head on them, and her hair covered the letter. She recalled that the
student, too, loved her, and that he had as much right to a letter from her as
Gorny. Wouldn't it be better after all to write to Gruzdev? There was a stir of
joy in her bosom for no reason whatever; at first the joy was small, and rolled
in her bosom like an india-rubber ball; then it became more massive, bigger,
and rushed like a wave. Nadya forgot Gorny and Gruzdev; her thoughts were in a
tangle and her joy grew and grew; from her bosom it passed into her arms and
legs, and it seemed as though a light, cool breeze were breathing on her head
and ruffling her hair. Her shoulders quivered with subdued laughter, the table
and the lamp chimney shook, too, and tears from her eyes splashed on the
letter. She could not stop laughing, and to prove to herself that she was not
laughing about nothing she made haste to think of something funny.
"What a funny poodle," she said,
feeling as though she would choke with laughter. "What a funny poodle!
"
She thought how, after tea the evening before,
Gruzdev had played with Maxim the poodle, and afterwards had told them about a
very intelligent poodle who had run after a crow in the yard, and the crow had
looked round at him and said: "Oh, you scamp! "
The poodle, not knowing he had to do with a
learned crow, was fearfully confused and retreated in perplexity, then began
barking. . . .
"No, I had better love Gruzdev,"
Nadya decided, and she tore up the letter to Gorny.
She fell to thinking of the student, of his
love, of her love; but the thoughts in her head insisted on flowing in all
directions, and she thought about everything -- about her mother, about the
street, about the pencil, about the piano. . . . She thought of them joyfully,
and felt that everything was good, splendid, and her joy told her that this was
not all, that in a little while it would be better still. Soon it would be
spring, summer, going with her mother to Gorbiki. Gorny would come for his
furlough, would walk about the garden with her and make love to her. Gruzdev
would come too. He would play croquet and skittles with her, and would tell her
wonderful things. She had a passionate longing for the garden, the darkness,
the pure sky, the stars. Again her shoulders shook with laughter, and it seemed
to her that there was a scent of wormwood in the room and that a twig was
tapping at the window.
She went to her bed, sat down, and not knowing
what to do with the immense joy which filled her with yearning, she looked at
the holy image hanging at the back of her bed, and said:
"Oh, Lord God! Oh, Lord God!"
EmoticonEmoticon