I am quite free."

Nejdanov looked at her in amazement.

"In that case... everything that you have just told me—"

"You may laugh at me if you like," she said. "If I am unhappy—it is not as a result of my own sorrows. It sometimes seems to me that I suffer for the miserable, poor and oppressed in the whole of Russia... No, it's not exactly that. I suffer—I am indignant for them, I rebel for them... I am ready to go to the stake for them. I am unhappy because I am a 'young lady,' a parasite, that I am completely unable to do anything... anything! When my father was sent to Siberia and I remained with my mother in Moscow, how I longed to go to him! It was not that I loved or respected him very much, but I wanted to know, to see with my own eyes, how the exiled and banished live... How I loathed myself and all these placid, rich, well-fed people! And afterwards, when he returned home, broken in body and soul, and began humbly busying himself, trying to work... oh... how terrible it was! It was a good thing that he died... and my poor mother too. But, unfortunately, I was left behind.... What for? Only to feel that I have a bad nature, that I am ungrateful, that there is no peace for me, that I can do nothing—nothing for anything or anybody!"

Mariana turned away—her hand slid on to the seat. Nejdanov felt sorry for her; he touched the drooping hand. Mariana pulled it away quickly; not that Nejdanov's action seemed unsuitable to her, but that he should on no account think that she was asking for sympathy.

Through the branches of the pines a glimpse of a woman's dress could be seen. Mariana drew herself up.

"Look, your Madonna has sent her spy. That maid has to keep a watch on me and inform her mistress where I am and with whom. My aunt very likely guessed that I was with you, and thought it improper, especially after the sentimental scene she acted before you this afternoon. Anyhow, it's time we were back. Let us go."

Mariana got up. Nejdanov rose also. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and suddenly there passed over her face an almost childish expression, making her embarrassment seem charming.

"You are not angry with me, are you? You don't think I have been trying to win your sympathy, do you? No, I'm sure you don't," she went on before Nejdanov had time to make any reply; "you are like me, just as unhappy, and your nature... is bad, like mine. We can go to the school together tomorrow. We are excellent friends now, aren't we?"

When Mariana and Nejdanov drew near to the house, Valentina Mihailovna looked at them from the balcony through her lorgnette, shook her head slowly with a smile on her lips, then returning through the open glass door into the drawing-room, where Sipiagin was already seated at preferences with their toothless neighbour, who had dropped in to tea, she drawled out, laying stress on each syllable: "How damp the air is! It's not good for one's health!"

Mariana and Nejdanov exchanged glances; Sipiagin, who had just scored a trick from his partner, cast a truly ministerial glance at his wife, looking her over from top to toe, then transferred this same cold, sleepy, but penetrating glance to the young couple coming in from the dark garden.





XIV

Two more weeks went by; everything in its accustomed order. Sipiagin fixed everyone's daily occupation, if not like a minister, at any rate like the director of a department, and was, as usual, haughty, humane, and somewhat fastidious. Kolia continued taking lessons; Anna Zaharovna, still full of spite, worried about him constantly; visitors came and went, talked, played at cards, and did not seem bored. Valentina Mihailovna continued amusing herself with Nejdanov, although her customary affability had become mixed with a certain amount of good-natured sarcasm. Nejdanov had become very intimate with Mariana, and discovered that her temper was even enough and that one could discuss most things with her without hitting against any violent opposition.