can't take things in fun a bit. Well, get up, then.'

'You are an utter beast! That's what YOU are!' said Ilinka, turning

miserably away and sobbing.

'Oh, oh! Would it still kick and show temper, then?' cried Seriosha,

seizing a dictionary and throwing it at the unfortunate boy's head.

Apparently it never occurred to Ilinka to take refuge from the missile;

he merely guarded his head with his hands.

'Well, that's enough now,' added Seriosha, with a forced laugh. 'You

DESERVE to be hurt if you can't take things in fun. Now let's go

downstairs.'

I could not help looking with some compassion at the miserable creature

on the floor as, his face buried in the dictionary, he lay there sobbing

almost as though he were in a fit.

'Oh, Sergius!' I said. 'Why have you done this?'

'Well, you did it too! Besides, I did not cry this afternoon when I

knocked my leg and nearly broke it.'

'True enough,' I thought. 'Ilinka is a poor whining sort of a chap,

while Seriosha is a boy--a REAL boy.'

It never occurred to my mind that possibly poor Ilinka was suffering

far less from bodily pain than from the thought that five companions

for whom he may have felt a genuine liking had, for no reason at all,

combined to hurt and humiliate him.

I cannot explain my cruelty on this occasion. Why did I not step forward

to comfort and protect him? Where was the pitifulness which often made

me burst into tears at the sight of a young bird fallen from its nest,

or of a puppy being thrown over a wall, or of a chicken being killed by

the cook for soup?

Can it be that the better instinct in me was overshadowed by my

affection for Seriosha and the desire to shine before so brave a boy? If

so, how contemptible were both the affection and the desire! They alone

form dark spots on the pages of my youthful recollections.

XX -- PREPARATIONS FOR THE PARTY

To judge from the extraordinary activity in the pantry, the shining

cleanliness which imparted such a new and festal guise to certain

articles in the salon and drawing-room which I had long known as

anything but resplendent, and the arrival of some musicians whom Prince

Ivan would certainly not have sent for nothing, no small amount of

company was to be expected that evening.

At the sound of every vehicle which chanced to pass the house I ran

to the window, leaned my head upon my arms, and peered with impatient

curiosity into the street.

At last a carriage stopped at our door, and, in the full belief that

this must be the Iwins, who had promised to come early, I at once ran

downstairs to meet them in the hall.

But, instead of the Iwins, I beheld from behind the figure of the

footman who opened the door two female figures-one tall and wrapped in a

blue cloak trimmed with marten, and the other one short and wrapped in

a green shawl from beneath which a pair of little feet, stuck into fur

boots, peeped forth.

Without paying any attention to my presence in the hall (although I

thought it my duty, on the appearance of these persons to salute them),

the shorter one moved towards the taller, and stood silently in front of

her. Thereupon the tall lady untied the shawl which enveloped the head

of the little one, and unbuttoned the cloak which hid her form; until,

by the time that the footmen had taken charge of these articles and

removed the fur boots, there stood forth from the amorphous chrysalis

a charming girl of twelve, dressed in a short muslin frock, white

pantaloons, and smart black satin shoes. Around her, white neck she wore

Вы читаете Childhood. Boyhood. Youth
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