Kolia, in his new coat decorated with golden buttons, was the hero of the day.He was given presents, he was congratulated, his hands were kissed at the front door and at the back door by servants, workmen from the factory, old women and young girls and peasants; the latter, in memory of the days of serfdom, hung around the tables in front of the house, spread out with pies and small bottles of vodka.The happy boy was shy and pleased and proud, all at the same time; he caressed his parents and ran out of the room.At dinner Sipiagin ordered champagne, and before drinking his son's health made a speech.He spoke of the significance of "serving the land," and indicated the road he wished his Nikolai to follow (he did not use the diminutive of the boy's name), of the duty he owed, first to his family;secondly to his class, to society; thirdly to the people--" Yes, my dear ladies and gentlemen, to the people; and fourthly, to the government!" By degrees Sipiagin became quite eloquent, with his hand under the tail of his coat in imitation of Robert Peel.He pronounced the word "science " with emotion, and finished his speech by the Latin exclamation, laboremus! which he instantly translated into Russian.Kolia, with a glass in his hand, went over to thank his father and to be kissed by the others.
Nejdanov exchanged glances with Mariana again...
They no doubt felt the same, but they did not speak to each other.
However, Nejdanov was more amused than annoyed with the whole proceeding, and the amiable hostess, Valentina Mihailovna, seemed to him to be an intelligent woman, who was aware that she was playing a part, but pleased to think that there was someone else intelligent enough to understand her.Nejdanov probably had no suspicion of the degree in which he was flattered by her attitude towards him.
On the following day lessons were renewed, and life fell back in its ordinary rut.
A week flew by in this way.Nejdanov's thoughts and experiences during that time may be best gathered from an extract of a letter he wrote to a certain Silin, an old school chum and his best friend.Silin did not live in St.Petersburg, but in a distant provincial town, with an old relative on whom he was entirely dependent.His position was such that he could hardly dream of ever getting away from there.He was a man of very poor health, timid, of limited capacity, but of an extraordinarily pure nature.He did not interest himself in politics, but read anything that came in his way, played on the flute as a resource against boredom, and was afraid of young ladies.Silin was passionately fond of Nejdanov--he had an affectionate heart in general.Nejdanov did not express himself to anyone as freely as he did to Vladimir Silin; when writing to him he felt as if he were communicating to some dear and intimate soul, dwelling in another world, or to his own conscience.Nejdanov could not for a moment conceive of the idea of living together again with Silin, as comrades in the same town.He would probably have lost interest in him, as there was little in common between them, but he wrote him long letters gladly with the fullest confidence.With others, on paper at any rate, he was not himself, but this never happened when writing to Silin.The latter was not a master in the art of writing, and responded only in short clumsy sentences, but Nejdanov had no need of lengthy replies; he knew quite well that his friend swallowed every word of his, as the dust in the road swallows each drop of rain, that he would keep his secrets sacredly, and that in his hopeless solitude he had no other interests but his, Nejdanov's, interests.He had never told anyone of his relation with Silin, a relation that was very dear to him.
"Well, my dear friend, my pure-hearted Vladimir!" Thus he wrote to him; he always called him pure-hearted, and not without good cause."Congratulate me; I have fallen upon green pasture, and can rest awhile and gather strength.I am living in the house of a rich statesman, Sipiagin, as tutor to his little son; I eat well (have never eaten so well in my life!), sleep well, and wander about the beautiful country--but, above all, I have for a time crept out from under the wing of my St.Petersburg friends.
At first it was horribly boring, but I feel a bit better now.Ishall soon have to go into harness again, that is, put up with the consequences of what I have undertaken (the reason I was allowed to come here).For a time, at any rate, I can enjoy the delights of a purely animal existence, expand in the waist, and write verses if the mood seizes me.I will give you my observations another time.The estate seems to me well managed on the whole, with the exception, perhaps, of the factory, which is not quite right; some of the peasants are unapproachable, and the hired servants have servile faces--but we can talk about these things later on.My host and hostess are courteous, liberal-minded people; the master is for ever condescending, and bursts out from time to time in torrents of eloquence, a most highly cultured person! His lady, a picturesque beauty, who has all her wits about her, keeps such a close watch on one, and is so soft!
I should think she has not a bone in her body! I am rather afraid of her, you know what sort of a ladies' man I make! There are neighbours--but uninteresting ones; then there is an old lady in the house who makes me feel uncomfortable....Above all, I am interested in a certain young lady, but whether she is a relative or simply a companion here the Lord only knows! I have scarcely exchanged a couple of words with her, but I feel that we are birds of a feather..."Here followed a description of Mariana's personal appearance and of all her habits; then he continued:
"That she is unhappy, proud, ambitious, reserved, but above all unhappy, I have not the smallest doubt.But why she is unhappy, Ihave as yet failed to discover.That she has an upright nature is quite evident, but whether she is good-natured or not remains to be seen.Are there really any good-natured women other than stupid ones? Is goodness essential? However, I know little about women.The lady of the house does not like her, and I believe it is mutual on either side....But which of them is in the right is difficult to say.I think that the mistress is probably in the wrong...because she is so awfully polite to her; the other's brows twitch nervously when she is speaking to her patroness.She is a most highly-strong individual, like myself, and is just as easily upset as I am, although perhaps not in the same way.
"When all this can be disentangled, I will write to you again.
"She hardly ever speaks to me, as I have already told you, but in the few words she has addressed to me (always rather sudden and unexpected) there was a ring of rough sincerity which I liked.By the way, how long is that relative of yours going to bore you to death? When is he going to die?
"Have you read the article in the "European Messenger" about the latest impostors in the province of Orenburg? It happened in 1834, my dear! I don't like the journal, and the writer of the article is a conservative, but the thing is interesting and calculated to give one ideas...
