authors and authoresses, and two or three Russian writers, trying as he did so to show incidentally his literary taste and judgment. There was no similar conversation between them after this one.
Alexandr still meant to make his escape.
'What are women to me?' he said; ' I cannot love; I have done with them.'
' All right, all right,' KostyakofFobserved to this. 'You will get married, you will see. I myself at one time only
wanted to amuse myself with the girls and women, but when the time had corneal was driven on and shoved somehow into matrimony.'
And Alexandr did not make his escape. All his old dreams had begun to stir within him. His heart began to beat faster. Liza's shape, her ankle, her curls hovered before his eyes, and life began to grow a little brighter again. For three days now Kostyakoff had not called for him, but he had himself fetched Kostyakoff to go fishing. ' Again ! again as of old!' said Alexandr, ' but I am firm !' and meanwhile he was hurriedly making his way to the stream.
Every time Liza was awaiting the arrival of her friends with impatience. Every evening she prepared a cup of fragrant tea with rum for Kostyakoff—and perhaps it was partly to this device that Liza was indebted for their not missing a single evening. If they were late, Liza went with her father to meet them. If bad weather kept them at home, next day there was no end to the reproaches heaped on them and on the weather.
Alexandr deliberated and deliberated and decided— Heaven only knows—he did not know himself—with what object, to cut short his walks in time, and he did not go to fish for a whole week. Kostyakoff too did not go. At last they went.
While still a mile from the place where they used to fish, they met Liza with her old nurse. She uttered a cry when she saw them, then suddenly smiled and blushed. Adouev bowed stiffly, Kostyakoff began to chatter away.
' Here we are,' he said, ' you didn't expect us ? he! he! he ! I see you didn't expect us and no samovar ! It's ages, miss, ages since we've seen each other. Have the fish been biting ? I tried to come all the time, but I could not persuade Alexandr Fedoritch ; he kept sitting indoors—no, I should say lying indoors.'
She looked reproachfully at Adouev.
' What does it mean ? ' she asked.
'What?'
' You have not been for a whole week ? '
' Yes, I believe I haven't been for a whole week ? '
' Why ? '
' Oh, I didn't feel inclined.'
' Not feel inclined !' she said, surprised.
' Yes, what of it ? '
She did not speak, but seemed to be thinking; ' then is it possible you did not feel inclined to come here ? '
'I wanted to send papa into town to you,' she said, ' only I did not know where you live:'
' Into town ? to me ? what for ? '
' That's a nice question ! ' she said in an offended tone. ' What for ? To see whether anything had happened to you, whether you were well ? '
' But what is it to you ? '
' What is it to me ? Good Heavens!'
' Why good Heavens ? '
'Why! why you know, I have some books of yours.'' She grew confused. ' Not been for a week! ' she added.
' Am I absolutely bound to be here every day ? '
' Absolutely!'
' Why ? '
' Why, why !' She looked mournfully at him and repeated ' why, why ! '
He looked at her. What was it? tears, agitation, and delight and reproaches ? She had grown pale and a little thinner, her eyes were brilliant
' So that's what it is ! already ! ' thought Alexandr, ' I had not expected it so soon !' Then he laughed aloud.
' Why do you ask ? Listen,' she continued, the flash of some resolution in her eyes. She had apparently braced herself to say something important, but at that instant her father came up to him.
' To-morrow,' she said, ' to-morrow I must have some
words with you; to-day I cannot; my heart is too full
You will come to-morrow ? eh ? you are listening ? you will not forget us ? you will not forsake ? . . . .
She ran away without waiting for a reply.
Her father looked steadily at her, then at Alexandr, and shook his head. Alexandr stared after her without speaking. He felt something like compunction, and was vexed with himself for having inadvertently brought her into this position; the blood rushed not to his heart but to his head. ^
' She loves me,' thought Alexandr, as he went home. ' Good Heavens, what a bore ! how awkward it is ; now it's
impossible to come here again, and the fish bite splendidly at that place—it's amazing ! '
Yet inwardly it seemed he was not ill-content with this ; he grew lively and chatted away every instant with Kosty-akoff.
Imagination, ever busy, sketched him, as though with some design, a full-length portrait of Liza, with her splendid shoulders, her slim figure, not omitting even her ankle. A strange sensation was kindled in him, again a shiver ran through him, but did not touch his heart, and died away again. He analysed this sensation from its source to its end.
' Animal instinct! ' he muttered to himself; 'that such an idea could enter my head—ah, bare shoulders, bust, ankle .... take advantage of her confidence, her innocence .... deceive .... and even so deceive her .... what then ? The same weariness and stings of conscience besides very likely, and for what ? No, no ! I will not let myself
go, I will not bring her to that Oh! I am firm ! I
feel in me so much purity of heart, so much generosity
I wilLnot fall into the mire, and I will not drag her into
it^r;
Liza expected him the whole day in a tremor of happiness ; afterwards her heart failed her, she lost courage, and, not knowing why herself, grew sad, and almost ceased to desire Alexandra coming. When the hour fixed had come, and no Alexandr, her impatience changed to insufferable wretchedness. With the last rays of the setting sun every hope left her; she burst into tears.
The next day she revived again, again she was light-hearted in the morning, but towards evening her heart began to ache and grow heavy with dread and hope. Again they did not come.
The third and the fourth day it was the same. Still hope drew her to the banks; scarcely did a boat appear in the distance, or two human figures on the bank, without her beginning to tremble and grow powerless under the burden of happy expectation. But when she saw they were not in the boat, that the figures were not theirs, she let her head drop exhausted on her breast, and despair settled down on her heart.
In a minute treacherous hope again whispered to her a
soothing explanation of the delay .... and again her heart began to beat with expectation. But Alexandr still did not come, as though on purpose.
At last, when half ill with despair in her heart, she was sitting one day at her place under the tree, suddenly she heard a rustling; she turned round and trembled with the shock of delight; before her, with his arms folded, stood Alexandr.
She stretched out her hands to him with tears of happiness, and for a long time she could not regain her control of herself. He took her hand and eagerly, even with emotion, looked her in the face.
' You have grown thin !' he said gently, ' you are suffering ?'
She shuddered.
