“Why? Are you through with that young woman’s affair?”
“I am.”
“Is she going to be a governess at the B.s’?”
“No, she is not going to be a governess. It has been arranged otherwise. She will now be able for a while to live a tolerable life in her own family.”
“Well, that’s good. It is pretty tough to be a governess. And now, brother, I am done with the optic nerve and I am going to take up the next pair, and how far have you got along?”
“I shall have to finish the work at—.” And here came a series of anatomical and physiological terms.
XX
“It is now the twenty-eighth of April; he said that he should be through by the first of July. Let us say the tenth; but that is not the first. Well, we can take the tenth; or, so as to get nearer, I’ll suppose it’s the fifteenth. No, I’ll take the tenth, after all. Now, how many days are left? Today should not be counted; there are only five hours of it left. There are two days more in April; May, thirty-one, and two make thirty-three; June, thirty, and thirty-three makes sixty-three; in July ten days; altogether it makes seventy-three. Is that much? Only seventy-three days, and then—freedom! I shall get out of this cellar. Akh! how happy I am! My mílenki! how cleverly he thought it all out! How happy I am!”
This was on Sunday evening. On Monday came a lesson given instead of Tuesday.
“My dear, my beloved!16 how glad I am to be with you, if only for a minute! Do you know how many days there are left for me to be in this cellar? When will you be done? Will you be done by the tenth of July?”
“Yes, Viérotchka.”
“Then I shall have to sit in this cellar only seventy-two days and this evening. One day I have marked off already. See I have made a little calendar just as boarding-school girls and boys do, and I cross off the days. How delightful it is to cross them off!”
“My dear little Viérotchka, my dear!17 Indeed, you have not long to worry along here; two months and a half will quickly pass, and you will be free.”
“Akh! how delightful it will be! Only just at present, my dearest,18 don’t always talk with me, and don’t look at me; and we must not play on the piano every time you come, either. And I shall not come out of my room every time that you come here; no, I shall not have enough strength of mind for that. I shall come out always, if only for one minute; and I shall look at you so coldly; not fondly at all. And now I am going right away to my room. Goodbye, my dear.19 When?”
“Thursday.”
“Three days; how long! But then there will be only sixty-eight days left.”
“Count less; about the seventh you will be able to get away from here.”
“The seventh? Then it is now only sixty-eight days. How happy you have made me! Goodbye, my dear.”
Thursday.—“My dearest,20 there are only sixty-six days to stay here.”
“Yes, Viérotchka; the time flies fast.”
“Fast? No, my dear. Akh! how long the days seem! Sometimes it seemed to me as though a whole month had dragged along while these three days were passing. Goodbye, my dearest,21 we must not talk long; aren’t we shrewd? yes? Goodbye. Akh! only sixty-six remain for me to sit in the cellar.—Hm! hm! it is not so noticeable, of course; when one is at work, time flies. And then I am not in a cellar. Hm! hm! da!”
Saturday.—“Akh! my dearest,22 only sixty-four days are left. Akh! how gloomy it is here! These two days have seemed longer than those three days. Akh! how gloomy! How miserable it is here; if you only realized it, my dear.23 Goodbye, my dear, my sweetheart,24 till Tuesday; and these three days will seem longer than the last five. Goodbye, my dear.—Hm! hm! da! hm! her eyes look badly. She does not like to weep. This is not well. Hm! da!”
Tuesday.—“Akh! my dearest,25 I gave up counting the days. They don’t pass—they don’t pass at all.”
“Viérotchka, my little friend, I have a favor to ask of you. We must have a nice little talk together. You are anxiously longing for freedom. Well, give yourself a little freedom; we must have a talk together.”
“Yes, we must, moï mílenki, we must.”
“Then I will ask you how this suits you. What time will it be most convenient for you tomorrow; it does not make the least difference what time, only tell me; be again on that bench of the Konno-Gvardéïsky Boulevard. Will you?”
“I will be there, moï mílenki, without fail. At eleven o’clock; is that right?”
“Very well; thank you, little friend.”
“Goodbye, my dearest.26 Akh! how glad I am that you have thought about it! How was it that I, myself, foolish little thing that I am, did not think about it? Goodbye. We will talk; at all events, I shall breathe the fresh air. Goodbye, mílenki. At eleven o’clock, without fail.”
Friday.—“Viérotchka, where are you going?”
“I, mámenka?”
Viérotchka blushed.
“To the Nevsky Prospekt, mámenka.”
“Then I am going with you, Viérotchka; I have an errand at the Gostinui Dvor. What did you put on such a dress as that for, Viérotchka, when you say you are going to the Nevsky. You ought to put on a better one when you are going to the Nevsky; folks’ll see you.”
“I like this dress. Just wait one
