Do men love in that sentimental way ? '
Lizaveta Alexandrovna paused in her work. 'How then?' she asked in an undertone, taking his hand and drawing him to her.
Piotr Ivanitch quietly loosened his hand from hers and pointed at Alexandr, who was standing at the window with his back to them and then began again his interrupted pacing of the room.
' How !' he said, ' as though you had not heard how men love!'
' Oh, they love!' she repeated gloomily, and slowly took up her work again. .
The silence lasted a quarter of an hour. Piotr Ivanitch was the first to break it.
' You are rather bitter against men. Is it your love for that—what's-her-name ? has made you so ? '
' Oh! I had really forgotten about that foolishness.'
' You see, it's just as I told you. What has made you so averse to men in general ? '
' What indeed! Their baseness, their pettiness of soul.'
' But what concern is it of yours ? Do you want to correct mankind, pray ? '
'What concern of mine? Am not I myself bespattered by the filth in which mankind is wallowing ? You know what has been my experience— after all that, how can I help hating, despising my fellow-creatures !'
'What has been your experience ?'
' Infidelity in love, hard, cold neglect in friendship.'
' You've an attack of the spleen ! You ought to busy yourself with work,' said Piotr Ivanitch, ' then you won't abuse mankind for nothing. What's wrong with the people j you know ? they're all decent people.'
Alexandr made a gesture of supreme disgust. /^r *Jf?Well, but what of yourself?' asked Piotr Ivanitch.
'I have done no harm to my fellow-men!' Alexandr retorted with dignity, ' I have a loving heart; I opened my eyes wide to people, but how have they treated me?'
'What next! how ridiculously he talks!' observed Piotr Ivanitch turning to his wife.
' Everything is ridiculous to you !' she replied.
' And I myself did not ask from people,' continued Alexandr, ' either heroic achievements, or greatness of soul, or self-sacrifice. I only asked what was my due by every right.'
'So you are all right? You have come out of things quite unspotted. Allow me to show it in a fresh light.'
Lizaveta Alexandrovna noticed that her husband was beginning to speak in a stern voice and she trembled.
' Piotr Ivanitch,' she whispered, ' do stop.'
' No, let him hear the truth. I will finish in a minute. Kindly tell me, Alexandr, when you stigmatised all your friends as cold and neglectful, did you feel something uneasy in your heart like a prick of conscience ? '
« Why, uncle ? '
' Oh, well, let us go a step further. You say you have no friends, but I always thought you had three.'
' Three ?' cried Alexandr, ' I once had one and he '
' Three,' repeated Piotr Ivanitch persistently.
'The first—let us begin with the oldest—is this one. Any other man after not having seen you for some years, would have turned his back on you, but he invited you to go and see him, and when you arrived with sulky looks, he asked you sympathetically, whether you were in want of anything, began to offer you his services and his help, and I'm convinced he would have given you money—yes ! in our times not every feeling stands that test; no, you must make me acquainted with him; I see he's a good fellow .... though you think him a traitor.'
Alexandr stood with downcast head.
' Well, and who do you thin^c is your second friend ?' asked Piotr Ivanitch.
' Who ? ' repeated Alexandr quite at a loss, ' why, no one.'
' He's no conscience ! ' broke in Piotr Ivanitch, ' eh ? Liza, and he doesn't blush ! and what am I reckoned for, allow me to ask? It's too bad, Alexandr; this is a trait which even in school copy-books is called base?
' But you have always repulsed me,' said Alexandr, timidly, not raising his eyes.
' Yes, when you tried to embrace me.'
' You have laughed at me, at my feelings,'
' Ah, it is out at last! ' Sit down; I have not finished yet! ' said Piotr Ivanitch coldly. ' YQu r third and best ( friend I hope you will name yourself.' ''''
V ''Alexandr gazed at him again and seemed to ask ' Who is it ? ' Piotr Ivanitch pointed to his wife.
' Here she is.''
'Piotr Ivanitch,' interposed Iizaveta^.Alj^ajidroxna, ' don't f>e clever; for goodness' sa?e, stop.'
' No, don't interfere.'
' I know how to value my aunt's friendship,' murmured Alexandr indistinctly.
' No, you don't { if you did, you would not have looked up to the ceiling for a friend, but would have pointed to her.
If you had appreciated her friendship, you would have valued her qualities too well to have despised men in general. She alone would have redeemed in your eyes the failings of others. Who has dried your tears and wept with you ? Who has shown you sympathy in every foolishness, and what a sympathy ! I suppose only your mother could have taken so warmly to heart everything that concerned you, and she would not have known how to do it. If you had felt it, you would not have talked of nothing but ' hard cold neglect in friendship.'
'Ah, matan.tel' said Alexandr, overwhelmed and utterly annihilated by this reproach, ' do you suppose that I don't value this and don't reckon you as a shining exception to the common herd ? My God, I swear '
' I believe you, I believe you, Alexandr !' she answered ; ' don't listen to Piotr Ivanitch ; he makes a mountain out of a molehill: he likes an opportunity of showing his clever-ness. Leave off, for heaven's sake, Piotr Ivanitch.'
' Directly: I will finish directly— one utterance more—the last I You said that you performed everything demanded by your duties to others ? '
Alexandr did not answer another word nor raise his eyes.
' C ome, tell me, do you love your mother ?_' 4 N Atexanar woke up at once.
' What a question ? ' he said; ' whom should I love if not ? I am devoted to her, I woul d lay down my life for her.'
' Good?' 'YOETnlust''tnow very'weTT ll'iat slie lives Only
for you, that every pleasure, every pain of yours, is a pleasure
and a pain for her. She does not count time now by
months, nor weeks, but by the news of you, or from you.
TV11 mg, ig it Imjgr ginrf| yr wrntP tO her ? '
Ale xanQf gave a start.
' Tfir ee w eeks/' he murmured.
''No,*Tour months! What am I to call such behaviour? The cfa lady fc> ill Wffh sorrow.'
' Is it possible ? Good God !'
' It's not true, not true!' said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, and running at once to the bureau she brought out from it a letter which she handed to Alexandr. ' She is not ill, but she is very worried.'
' You are spoiling him, Liza,' said Piotr Ivanitch.
'
' And you are severe to excess. Alexandr has had affairs which have for a time drawn him away.'
'Forget his mother for the sake of a bit of a girl
Important affairs, on my word!'
' Well, that's enough,' she said persuasively, with a gesture at her nephew.
' Alexandr, after reading his mother's letter, had hidden his face behind it
' Don't check my uncle, ma tante; let him thunder in reproaches ; I have deserved worse; lama monster!' he said, with a face of despair.
'Come, calm yourself, Alexandr!' said Piotr Ivanitch; ' there are many such monsters. You have been led away by foolishness and have forgotten your mother for a time— that is natural; love for a mother is a quiet feeling. She had one thing in the world—it's natural she should be grieved. There is no reason to hang you for that That's all. Well, I will go and have a nap.'
' Uncle ! are you angry ? ' said Alexandr in a voice of deep penitence.
