which he covered his table, and for which he ransacked the whole house.
Following upon that, he took to violent novel-reading--procuring such
works by stealth, and devouring them day and night. Involuntarily I was
influenced by his whims, for, though too proud to imitate him, I was
also too young and too lacking in independence to choose my own way.
Above all, I envied Woloda his happy, nobly frank character, which
showed itself most strikingly when we quarrelled. I always felt that
he was in the right, yet could not imitate him. For instance, on one
occasion when his passion for curios was at its height, I went to his
table and accidentally broke an empty many-coloured smelling-bottle.
'Who gave you leave to touch my things?' asked Woloda, chancing to enter
the room at that moment and at once perceiving the disorder which I had
occasioned in the orderly arrangement of the treasures on his table.
'And where is that smelling bottle? Perhaps you--?'
'I let it fall, and it smashed to pieces; but what does that matter?'
'Well, please do me the favour never to DARE to touch my things again,'
he said as he gathered up the broken fragments and looked at them
vexedly.
'And will YOU please do me the favour never to ORDER me to do anything
whatever,' I retorted. 'When a thing's broken, it's broken, and there is
no more to be said.' Then I smiled, though I hardly felt like smiling.
'Oh, it may mean nothing to you, but to me it means a good deal,' said
Woloda, shrugging his shoulders (a habit he had caught from Papa).
'First of all you go and break my things, and then you laugh. What a
nuisance a little boy can be!'
'LITTLE boy, indeed? Then YOU, I suppose, are a man, and ever so wise?'
'I do not intend to quarrel with you,' said Woloda, giving me a slight
push. 'Go away.'
'Don't you push me!'
'Go away.'
'I say again--don't you push me!'
Woloda took me by the hand and tried to drag me away from the table, but
I was excited to the last degree, and gave the table such a push with
my foot that I upset the whole concern, and brought china and crystal
ornaments and everything else with a crash to the floor.
'You disgusting little brute!' exclaimed Woloda, trying to save some of
his falling treasures.
'At last all is over between us,' I thought to myself as I strode from
the room. 'We are separated now for ever.'
It was not until evening that we again exchanged a word. Yet I felt
guilty, and was afraid to look at him, and remained at a loose end all
day.
Woloda, on the contrary, did his lessons as diligently as ever, and
passed the time after luncheon in talking and laughing with the girls.
As soon, again, as afternoon lessons were over I left the room, for
it would have been terribly embarrassing for me to be alone with my
brother. When, too, the evening class in history was ended I took my
notebook and moved towards the door. Just as I passed Woloda, I pouted
and pulled an angry face, though in reality I should have liked to have
made my peace with him. At the same moment he lifted his head, and with
a barely perceptible and good-humouredly satirical smile looked me full
in the face. Our eyes met, and I saw that he understood me, while he,
for his part, saw that I knew that he understood me; yet a feeling
stronger than myself obliged me to turn away from him.
'Nicolinka,' he said in a perfectly simple and anything but
mock-pathetic way, 'you have been angry with me long enough. I am sorry
if I offended you,' and he tendered me his hand.
It was as though something welled up from my heart and nearly choked
me. Presently it passed away, the tears rushed to my eyes, and I felt
