The Adolescent

“Yes, we met in Luga last year,” she answered quite simply, sitting down next to me and looking at me affectionately. I don’t know why, but I thought she’d just turn bright red when I told her about Vasin. My sister was a blonde, a light blonde; her hair was quite unlike her mother’s and her father’s, but her eyes and the shape of her face were almost like her mother’s. Her nose was very straight, small, regular; however, there was another peculiarity—small freckles on her face, something my mother didn’t have at all. Of Versilov there was very little, perhaps only her slender waist, her tall stature, and something lovely in her gait. And not the least resemblance to me; two opposite poles.

“I knew himself for three months,” Liza added.

“You’re saying himself about Vasin, Liza? You ought to say him, and not himself. Excuse me, sister, for correcting you, but it distresses me that your education seems to have been quite neglected.”

“It’s mean on your part to make such observations in front of your mother,” Tatyana Pavlovna flared up, “and you’re wrong, it hasn’t been neglected.”

“I’m not saying anything about my mother,” I put in sharply. “You should know, mama, that I look upon Liza as a second you; you’ve made of her the same loveliness of kindness and character as you surely were yourself, and are now, to this day, and will be eternally . . . What I meant was external polish, all that society stupidity, which is nevertheless indispensable. I’m only indignant that Versilov, if he heard you say himself instead of him about Vasin, probably wouldn’t correct you at all—he’s so haughty and indifferent with us. That’s what infuriates me!”

“He’s a bear cub himself, and here he’s teaching us about polish. Don’t you dare, sir, to say ‘Versilov’ in front of your mother, or in my presence either—I won’t stand for it!” Tatyana Pavlovna flashed fire.

“Mama, I received my salary today, fifty roubles, here, take it please!”

I went over and gave her the money; she became alarmed at once.

“Ah, I don’t know how I can take it!” she said, as if afraid to touch the money. I didn’t understand.

“For pity’s sake, mama, if you both regard me as a son and a brother in the family, then . . .”

“Ah, I’m guilty before you, Arkady; I should confess certain things to you, but I’m so afraid of you . . .”

She said it with a timid and ingratiating smile; again I didn’t understand and interrupted her:

“By the way, do you know, mama, that the case between Andrei Petrovich and the Sokolskys was decided today in court?”

“Ah, I know!” she exclaimed, pressing her hands together fearfully in front of her (her gesture).

“Today?” Tatyana Pavlovna gave a great start. “But it can’t be, he would have told us. Did he tell you?” she turned to my mother.

“Ah, no, not that it was today, he didn’t tell me about that. I’ve been so afraid all week. Even if he loses, I’d pray only so as to have it off our shoulders and be as we were before.”

“So he didn’t tell you either, mama!” I exclaimed. “What a fellow! There’s an example of his indifference and haughtiness; what did I just tell you?”

“Decided how, how was it decided? And who told you?” Tatyana Pavlovna flung herself about. “Speak!”

“But here’s the man himself! Maybe he’ll tell us,” I announced, hearing his footsteps in the corridor, and quickly sat down near Liza.

“Brother, for God’s sake, spare mama, be patient with Andrei Petrovich . . .” my sister whispered to me.

“I will, I will, I came back with that in mind.” I pressed her hand.

Liza looked at me very mistrustfully, and she was right.

II

HE CAME IN very pleased with himself, so pleased that he didn’t find it necessary to conceal his state of mind. And in general he had become accustomed, lately, to opening himself up before us without the least ceremony, and not only to the bad in him, but even to the ridiculous, something everyone is afraid of; yet he was fully aware that we would understand everything to the last little jot. In the past year, by Tatyana Pavlovna’s observation, he had gone very much to seed in his dress; his clothes were always decent, but old and without refinement. It’s true that he was prepared to wear the same linen for two days, which even made mother upset; they considered it a sacrifice, and this whole group of devoted women looked upon it as outright heroism. The hats he wore were always soft, wide-brimmed, black; when he took his hat off in the doorway, the whole shock of his very thick but much-graying hair just sprang up on his head. I always liked looking at his hair when he took his hat off.

“Hello. Everybody’s gathered, even including him? I could hear his voice in the front hall—denouncing me, it seems?”

One of the signs that he was in a merry mood was that he began sharpening his wit on me. I didn’t reply, naturally. Lukerya came in with a whole bag of purchases and put it on the table.

“Victory, Tatyana Pavlovna! The suit is won, and, of course, the princes won’t decide to appeal. The case is mine! I at once found where to borrow a thousand roubles. Sofya, put your work down, don’t strain your eyes. Just home from work, Liza?”

“Yes, papa,” Liza replied with an affectionate look. She called him father; I wouldn’t submit to that for anything.

“Tired?”

“Yes.”

“Leave work, don’t go tomorrow; and drop it completely.”

“It’s worse for me that way, papa.”

“I ask you to . . . I dislike it terribly when women work, Tatyana Pavlovna.”