Suddenly all that was beautiful, joyous, spir-itual, and full of promise for the future, became animal and sordid, sad and despairing.
She looked into his eyes and tried to smile, pretending that she feared nothing, that every-thing was as it should be; but deep down in her soul she knew it was all over. She understood that she had not found in him what she had sought; that which she had once known in herself and in Koko. She told him that he must write to her father asking her hand in marriage. This he promised to do; but when she met him next he said it was impossible for him to write just then. She saw something vague and furtive in his eyes, and her distrust of him grew. The following day he wrote to her, telling her that he was already mar-ried, though his wife had left him long since; that he knew she would despise him for the wrong he had done her, and implored her forgiveness.
She made him come to see her. She said she loved him; that she felt herself bound to him for ever whether he was married or not, and would never leave him. The next time they met he told her that he and his parents were so poor that he could only offer her the meanest existence. She answered that she needed nothing, and was ready to go with him at once wherever he wished. He endeavoured to dissuade her, advising her to wait; and so she waited. But to live on with this se-cret, with occasional meetings, and merely cor-responding with him, all hidden from her family, was agonising, and she insisted again that he must take her away. At first, when she returned to St.
Petersburg, be wrote promising to come, and then letters ceased and she knew no more of him.
She tried to lead her old life, but it was im-possible. She fell ill, and the efforts of the doc-tors were unavailing; in her hopelessness she resolved to kill herself. But how was she to do this, so that her death might seem natural? She really desired to take her life, and imagined that she had irrevocably decided on the step. So, ob-taining some poison, she poured it into a glass, and in another instant would have drunk it, had not her sister's little son of five at that very mo-ment run in to show her a toy his grandmother had given him. She caressed the child, and, suddenly stopping short, burst into tears.
The thought overpowered her that she, too, might have been a mother had he not been mar-ried, and this vision of motherhood made her look into her own soul for the first time. She began to think not of what others would say of her, but of her own life. To kill oneself because of what the world might say was easy; but the moment she saw her own life dissociated from the world, to take that life was out of the question. She threw away the poison, and ceased to think of sui-cide.
Then her life within began. It was real life, and despite the torture of it, had the possibility been given her, she would not have turned back from it. She began to pray, but there was no comfort in prayer; and her suffering was less for herself than for her father, whose grief she fore-saw and understood.
Thus months dragged along, and then some-thing happened which entirely transformed her life. One day, when she was at work upon a quilt, she suddenly experienced a strange sensa-tion. No--it seemed impossible. Motionless she sat with her work in hand. Was it possi-ble that this was IT. Forgetting everything, his baseness and deceit, her mother's querulousness, and her father's sorrow, she smiled. She shud-dered at the recollection that she was on the point of killing it, together with herself.
She now directed all her thoughts to getting away--somewhere where she could bear her child--and become a miserable, pitiful mother, but a mother withal. Somehow she planned and arranged it all, leaving her home and settling in a distant provincial town, where no one could find her, and where she thought she would be far from her people. But, unfortunately, her father's brother received an appointment there, a thing she could not possibly foresee. For four months she had been living in the house of a midwife--one Maria Ivanovna; and, on learning that her uncle had come to the town, she was preparing to fly to a still remoter hiding-place.
