I redoubled my pace, and got home just at dinner-time.
My father was already sitting by my mother’s
chair, dressed for dinner, washed and fresh; he was
reading an article from the Journal des Debats
in his smooth musical voice; but my mother heard him
without attention, and when she saw me, asked where
I had been to all day long, and added that she didn’t
like this gadding about God knows where, and God knows
in what company. ‘But I have been walking
alone,’ I was on the point of replying, but
I looked at my father, and for some reason or other
held my peace.
XV
For the next five or six days I hardly saw Zinaida;
she said she was ill, which did not, however, prevent
the usual visitors from calling at the lodge to pay—as
they expressed it, their duty—all, that
is, except Meidanov, who promptly grew dejected and
sulky when he had not an opportunity of being enthusiastic.
Byelovzorov sat sullen and red-faced in a corner,
buttoned up to the throat; on the refined face of
Malevsky there flickered continually an evil smile;
he had really fallen into disfavour with Zinaida,
and waited with special assiduity on the old princess,
and even went with her in a hired coach to call on
the Governor-General. This expedition turned out
unsuccessful, however, and even led to an unpleasant
experience for Malevsky; he was reminded of some scandal
to do with certain officers of the engineers, and
was forced in his explanations to plead his youth and
inexperience at the time. Lushin came twice a
day, but did not stay long; I was rather afraid of
him after our last unreserved conversation, and at
the same time felt a genuine attraction to him.
He went a walk with me one day in the Neskutchny gardens,
was very good-natured and nice, told me the names
and properties of various plants and flowers, and
suddenly, a propos of nothing at all, cried,
hitting himself on his forehead, ’And I, poor
fool, thought her a flirt! it’s clear self-sacrifice
is sweet for some people!’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I inquired.
‘I don’t mean to tell you anything,’
Lushin replied abruptly.
Zinaida avoided me; my presence—I could
not help noticing it—affected her disagreeably.
She involuntarily turned away from me ... involuntarily;
that was what was so bitter, that was what crushed
me! But there was no help for it, and I tried
not to cross her path, and only to watch her from
a distance, in which I was not always successful.
As before, something incomprehensible was happening
to her; her face was different, she was different
altogether. I was specially struck by the change
that had taken place in her one warm still evening.
I was sitting on a low garden bench under a spreading
elderbush; I was fond of that nook; I could see from
there the window of Zinaida’s room. I sat
there; over my head a little bird was busily hopping
about in the darkness of the leaves; a grey cat, stretching
Copyrights
The Torrents of Spring from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
