Fyodor Dostoyevsky - THE COMPLETE WORKS OF FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY

“Someone knocked here while you were away!” she said in a tone which seemed to taunt me for having locked her in.

“Wasn’t it the doctor?” I said. “Didn’t you call to him, Elena?”

“No!

I made no answer, but took my parcel, untied it, and took out the dress I had bought.

“Here, Elena, my dear!” I said going up to her. “You can’t go about in such rags as you’ve got on now. So I’ve bought you a dress, an everyday one, very cheap. So there’s no need for you to worry about it. It only cost one rouble twenty kopecks. Wear it with my best wishes.”

I put the dress down beside her. She flushed crimson and looked at me for some time with open eyes.

She was extremely surprised and at the same time it seemed to me that she was horribly ashamed for some reason. But there was a light of something soft and tender in her eyes. Seeing that she said nothing I turned away to the table. What I had done had evidently impressed her, but she controlled herself with an effort, and sat with her eyes cast down.

My head was going round and aching more and more. The fresh air had done me no good. Meanwhile I had to go to Natasha’s. My anxiety about her was no less than yesterday. On the contrary it kept growing more and more. Suddenly I fancied that Elena called me. I turned to her.

“Don’t lock me in when you go out,” she said, looking away and picking at the border of the sofa, as though she were entirely absorbed in doing so. “I will not go away from you.”

“Very well, Elena, I agree, But what if some stranger comes? There’s no knowing who may!”

“Then leave me the key and I’ll lock myself in and if they knock I shall say, ‘not at home.’” And she looked slyly at me as much as to say, “See how simply that’s done!”

“Who washes your clothes?” she asked suddenly, before I had had

time to answer her.

“There’s a woman here, in this house.”

“I know how to wash clothes. And where did you get the food yesterday?”

“At a restaurant.”

“I know how to cook, too. I will do your cooking.”

“That will do, Elena. What can you know about cooking? You’re talking nonsense….”

Elena looked down and was silent. She was evidently wounded at my remark. Ten minutes at least passed. We were both silent.

“Soup!” she said suddenly, without raising her head.

“What about soup? What soup?” I asked, surprised.

“I can make soup. I used to make it for mother when she was ill. I used to go to market too.”

“See, Elena, just see how proud you are,” I said, going up to her and sitting down beside her on the sofa. “I treat you as my heart prompts me. You are all alone, without relations, and unhappy. I want to help you. You’d help me in the same way if I were in trouble. But you won’t look at it like that, and it’s disagreeable to you to take the smallest present from me. You want to repay it at once, to pay for it by work, as though I were Mme. Bubnov and would taunt you with it. If that is so, it’s a shame, Elena.”

She made no answer. Her lips quivered. I believe she wanted to say something; but she controlled herself and was silent. I got up to go to Natasha. That time I left Elena the key, begging her if anybody should come and knock, to call out and ask who was there. I felt perfectly sure that something dreadful was happening to Natasha, and that she was keeping it dark from me for the time, as she had done more than once before. I resolved in any case to look in only for one moment for fear of irritating her by my persistence.

And it turned out I was right. She met me again with a look of harsh displeasure. I ought to have left her at once but my legs were giving way under me.

“I’ve only come for a minute, Natasha,” I began, “to ask your advice what I’m to do with my visitor.”

And I began briefly telling her all about Elena. Natasha listened to me in silence.

“I don’t know what to advise you, Vanya,” she said. “Everything shows that she’s a very strange little creature. Perhaps she has been dreadfully ill-treated and frightened. Give her time to get well, anyway. You think of my people for her?”

“She keeps saying that she won’t go anywhere away from me. And goodness knows how they’ll take her, so I don’t know what to do. Well, tell me, dear, how you are. You didn’t seem quite well yesterday,” I said timidly.

“Yes…my head aches rather to-day, too,” she answered absentmindedly. “Haven’t you seen any of our people?”

“No. I shall go tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Saturday, you know….”

“Well, what of it?”

“The prince is coming in the evening.”

“Well? I’ve not forgotten.”

“No, I only….”

She stood still, exactly opposite me, and looked for a long time intently into my face. There was a look of determination, of obstinacy, in her eyes, something feverish and wrathful.

“Look here, Vanya,” she said, “be kind, go away, you worry me.”

I got up from my chair and looked at her, unutterably astonished.

“Natasha, dear, what’s the matter? What has happened?” I cried in alarm.

“Nothing’s happened. You’ll know all about it tomorrow, but now I want to be alone. Do you hear, Vanya? Go away at once. I can’t bear, I can’t bear to look at you!”

“But tell me at least ….”

“You’ll know all about it tomorrow! Oh, my God! Are you going?”

I went out. I was so overcome that I hardly knew what I was doing. Mavra started out into the passage to meet me.

“What, is she angry?” she asked me. “I’m afraid to go near her.”

“But what’s the matter with her “‘Why, our young gentleman hasn’t shown his nose here for the last three days!”

“Three days! “I repeated in amazement. “Why, she told me yesterday that he had been here in the morning and was coming again in the evening….”

“She did? He never came near us in the morning! I tell you we haven’t set eyes on him for three days. You don’t say she told you yesterday that he’d been in the morning?”

“Yes, she said so.”

“Well,” said Mavra, musing, “it must have cut her to the quick if she won’t own it even to you. Well, he’s a pretty one!”

“But what does it mean?” I cried.

“It means I don’t know what to do with her,” said Mavra, throwing up her hands. “She was sending me to him yesterday, but twice she turned me back as I was starting. And to-day she won’t even speak to me. If only you could see him. I daren’t leave her now.”

I rushed down the staircase, beside myself.

“Will you be here this evening?” Mavra called after me.

“We’ll see then,” I called up to her. “I may just run in to you to ask how she is. If only I’m alive myself.”

I really felt as though something had struck me to the very heart.

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I WENT STRAIGHT to Alyosha’s. He lived with his father in Little Morskaya. Prince Valkovsky had a rather large flat, though he lived alone. Alyosha had two splendid rooms in the flat. I had very rarely been to see him, only once before, I believe, in fact. He had come to see me much oftener, especially at first, during the early period of his connexion with Natasha.

He was not at home. I went straight to his rooms and wrote him the following note:

“Alyosha, you seem to have gone out of your mind. As on Tuesday evening your father himself asked Natasha to do you the honour of becoming your wife, and you were delighted at his doing so, as I saw myself, you must admit that your behaviour is somewhat strange. Do you know what you are doing to Natasha? In any case this note will remind you that your behaviour towards your future wife is unworthy and frivolous in the extreme. I am very well aware that I have no right to lecture you, but I don’t care about that in the least.