brother, Seriosha, had dark curly hair, a turned-up, strongly pronounced
nose, very bright red lips (which, never being quite shut, showed a
row of white teeth), beautiful dark-blue eyes, and an uncommonly bold
expression of face. He never smiled but was either wholly serious or
laughing a clear, merry, agreeable laugh. His striking good looks had
captivated me from the first, and I felt an irresistible attraction
towards him. Only to see him filled me with pleasure, and at one time my
whole mental faculties used to be concentrated in the wish that I
might do so. If three or four days passed without my seeing him I felt
listless and ready to cry. Awake or asleep, I was forever dreaming of
him. On going to bed I used to see him in my dreams, and when I had
shut my eyes and called up a picture of him I hugged the vision as
my choicest delight. So much store did I set upon this feeling for my
friend that I never mentioned it to any one. Nevertheless, it must have
annoyed him to see my admiring eyes constantly fixed upon him, or else
he must have felt no reciprocal attraction, for he always preferred to
play and talk with Woloda. Still, even with that I felt satisfied, and
wished and asked for nothing better than to be ready at any time to make
any sacrifice for him. Likewise, over and above the strange fascination
which he exercised upon me, I always felt another sensation, namely,
a dread of making him angry, of offending him, of displeasing him. Was
this because his face bore such a haughty expression, or because I,
despising my own exterior, over-rated the beautiful in others, or,
lastly (and most probably), because it is a common sign of affection?
At all events, I felt as much fear, of him as I did love. The first time
that he spoke to me I was so overwhelmed with sudden happiness that I
turned pale, then red, and could not utter a word. He had an ugly habit
of blinking when considering anything seriously, as well as of twitching
his nose and eyebrows. Consequently every one thought that this habit
marred his face. Yet I thought it such a nice one that I involuntarily
adopted it for myself, until, a few days after I had made his
acquaintance, Grandmamma suddenly asked me whether my eyes were hurting
me, since I was winking like an owl! Never a word of affection passed
between us, yet he felt his power over me, and unconsciously but
tyrannically, exercised it in all our childish intercourse. I used to
long to tell him all that was in my heart, yet was too much afraid of
him to be frank in any way, and, while submitting myself to his will,
tried to appear merely careless and indifferent. Although at times his
influence seemed irksome and intolerable, to throw it off was beyond my
strength.
I often think with regret of that fresh, beautiful feeling of boundless,
disinterested love which came to an end without having ever found
self-expression or return. It is strange how, when a child, I always
longed to be like grown-up people, and yet how I have often longed,
since childhood's days, for those days to come back to me! Many times,
in my relations with Seriosha, this wish to resemble grown-up people
put a rude check upon the love that was waiting to expand, and made me
repress it. Not only was I afraid of kissing him, or of taking his hand
and saying how glad I was to see him, but I even dreaded calling him
'Seriosha' and always said 'Sergius' as every one else did in our
