could bear it no longer; I went up to him and asked, did he intend to devote any time to me that evening ? And my heart seemed boiling
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within me, my voice shook. It seemed to surprise him. He looked at me curiously. ' Very well,' he said, ' let us finish the rubber.' As this was all he said to me, I seized my hat and was about to go, but he noticed it and stopped me. 'The rubber is just over,' he said, 'we will have supper directly.' At last they finished the game. He took a seat near me and yawned; that was how our friendly conversation began. 'You wanted to say something to me ? ' he inquired. This was said in such a matter-of-fact, unfeeling voice that I simply gazed at him with a mournful smile. Then he suddenly seemed to thaw and began to ply me with questions : * What's the matter with you ? isn't there something you are in want of ? Couldn't I be of use to you in your official work ?'—and so on. I shook my head, and told him that I did not want to talk to him of my work but of what was nearer to my heart. Then I began to tell him of my love, of my sufferings, of the emptiness of my heart. I began to be carried away and thought that the story of my sufferings was breaking through the crust of ice, that his eyes were not quite unbedewed by tears, when suddenly he burst out laughing ! I looked at him, he had a handkerchief in his hands; he had been trying to control himself all the time I was talking, at last he could hold out no longer. I stopped in dismay.
'Enough, enough,' he said, 'better drink some vodka and we will have supper. Boy ! some vodka. Come, come, ha, ha, ha !—there's some capital roast—ha, ha, ha !—roast beef.'
He was going to take me by the hand, but I tore myself away and fled from the monster.
'There, that's what men are like, ma tante' said Alexandr in conclusion, then, with a wave of the hand, he was gone.
Lizaveta Alexandrovna felt pity for Alexandr.
' Piotr Ivanitch !' she said to him affectionately one day, ' I have a request to make of you ? '
' What is it ? '
' Guess.'
' Tell me; you know your requests are never refused. I daresay it's about a country villa; well, it's still rather early.'
'No I' said Lizaveta Alexandrovna. 'Alexandr was with me the day before yesterday.'
'Ah, I feel there's something wrong!' interposed Piotr Ivanitch, 'well?'
Then Lizaveta Alexandrovna told him all she had heard from her nephew. Piotr Ivanitch gave a vigorous shrug.
' What do you want me to do in the matter ? you see what a fellow he is !'
' You show him sympathy; ask him what is the state of his heart.'
'You don't want me to weep with him? '
' It would do no harm.'
' Ugh, that Alexandr; he is a burden !' said Piotr Ivanitch.
'A terrible burden; once a month to receive a letter from an old lady and to throw it—without reading it— under the table, or to talk a little to your nephew? Why, it keeps you from your whist! You men, you men h If you have a good dinner, Lafitte with a gold label and cards, it's everything; and no trouble about any one! If you have a chance of boasting and showing off as well, then you are happy!'
'Just what flirtation is for you,' observed Piotr Ivanitch; ' every one to his taste, my dear! What more would you have?'
' Why, some heart! of that there is never anything. It's vexing and sad to see you,' said Lizaveta under her breath.
' Come, come, don't be angry; I will do all you tell me, only teach me how ! ' said Piotr Ivanitch.
Explain to him in a kind way what can be asked and expected of friends in these days; tell him that his friend is not so much to blame as he imagines. But can I teach you? You are so clever, and so good at dissembling,' added Lizaveta Alexandrovna.
Piotr Ivanitch knitted his brows a little at the last word.
' Have you been going in for * sincere outbursts,' pray ? ' he said with irritation, ' and now you want to drag me into it!'
' It's for the last time, however,' said Lizaveta Alexandrovna. ' I hope that after this he will be pacified.'
Piotr Ivanitch shook his head incredulously.
' There's some one rang the bell, isn't it he ? What am I
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to do ? tell me again : give him a lecture—what else; money ? '
' A lecture indeed! why, you'll make it worse. I asked you to talk a little of friendship, of affection, but more kindly, more sympathetically.'
Alexandr made his bow in silence and in silence ate a hearty dinner, and between the courses rolled up little pellets of bread and looked from under his eyebrows at the bottles and decanters. After dinner he was going to take his hat again.
' Where are you off to ? ' said Piotr Ivanitch, ' sit with us a little.'
Alexandr obeyed in silence. Piotr Ivanitch thought how he could approach the subject in a gentle and discreet manner, and at once asked, speaking briskly: ' I have heard, Alexandr, that your friend has treated you badly in some way ? '
At these unexpected words Alexandr drew back his head, as though he had been wounded, and bent a gaze full of reproach upon his aunt. She too had not anticipated such a crude opening of the subject, and at first let her head droop over her work, then looked also with reproach at her husband; bat he was under the combined influence of digestion and drowsiness, and did not perceive the import of these looks.
Alexandr answered his question by a scarcely audible sigh.
' Seriously,' continued Piotr Ivanitch, ' what treachery! what a friend ! he had not seen him for five years, and when they met he did not smother his friend with embraces, but invited him in the evening, tried to make him play cards, and to give him supper. And then—treacherous creature !—noticed the sulky looks on his friend's face, and set to questioning him about his affairs, his circumstances, his needs—what base curiosity ! no sincere outpourings! awful! awful! Please let me see this monster, bring him on Friday to dine ! But what stakes does he play for?'
' I don't know,' said Alexandr angrily. ' You may laugh,
uncle; you are right; I alone am to blame. To believe
in men—to seek sympathy—in whom ? to cast pearls—
I before whom ? All around me is baseness, cowardice,
* pettiness, and I still kept my youthful faith in goodness,
Piotr Ivanitch was tranquilly beginning to nod.
' Piotr Ivanitch!' said Lizaveta Alexandrovna sotte voce, taking his hand, ' you are asleep ? '
' Me asleep! ' said Piotr Ivanitch, rousing himself. ' I heard everything—' virtue, constancy ;' when did I fall asleep ? '
' Don't disturb my uncle, ma tante? remarked Alexandr; 'he won't go to sleep, then his digestion will be deranged, and man is lord of creation, no doubt, but he is also the slave of his stomach. 1 '
At this he tried to smile bitterly, but only succeeded in smiling sourly.
' Tell me what you wanted from your friend ? sacrifices of some sort, I suppose; did you want him to climb over a wall or jump out of a window ? How do you understand friendship ? ' asked Piotr Ivanitch.
' Now I ask no sacrifices—don't alarm yourself. Thanks to others, I have been brought down to a pitiful comprehension of friendship as well as of grief,' said Alexandr. ' I feel in myself the power of loving and I am proud of it. My unhappiness only results from my not having met a creature capable of such love and endowed with the power of loving.'
' Power of loving ! ' repeated Piotr Ivanitch a it's just as if you said the power of weakness.'
' It's not your way, Piotr Ivanitch' observed Lizaveta Alexandrovna; ' you are not willing to believe in the existence of such love even in others.'
' And you, is it possible you believe in it ?' demanded Piotr Ivanitch, going up to her; ' but no ! you are joking!
