SECOND BOOK.
They trifled away the summer on the Italian coast and in Switzerland.
In the autumn Lensky made a concert tour through Germany and the Netherlands, on which his young wife accompanied him, and attempted with humorous zeal to accustom herself to the role of an artist"s wife.
In the beginning of December Lensky and she came to St. Petersburg. The residence had been prepared for the young pair by a friend of Natalie.
Natalie made a discontented face when she entered her new kingdom. How new, how glaring, how unsuitable and tasteless everything looked. "It is as if one bit into a green apple," said she; and turning to Lensky she added, gayly, with a shrug of her shoulders: "The stupid Annette did not know any better; but do not trouble yourself. In a couple of weeks it will be different. You shall see how comfortably I will cushion your nest. You must feel happy in it, my restless eagle, or else you will fly away from me. What?"
She said this, smiling in proud consciousness of his pa.s.sionate love.
What pleasure would it give him to fly away? And teasingly, jestingly, she pushed back the thick hair from his temples.
Ah, how pleasant and yet tantalizing was the touch of her slender, delicate fingers, which made him at once nervous and happy! As he expressed it, it "almost made him jump out of his skin with rapture."
At first he let her continue her foolish, tender playfulness to her heart"s content; then he laughingly put himself on the defensive, preached a more dignified manner to her, and when she did not yield, but gayly continued her lovely, teasing ways, he at length seized her violently by both wrists and quite crushed her hands with kisses.
If in the first weeks of their married life both had been quite solemn, thoughtful, and confused in their manner to each other, now they often frolicked together like two gay children.
While he took up again his long-interrupted duties at the Petersburg Conservatory, she built him "his nest." She did not go lavishly to work. Oh, no! She knew that one must not press down a young artist with the burden of material cares. She imagined she was very economical. She did not cease to wonder over the cheapness with which she could get everything that was needed, beginning with the flowers--flowers in winter, in St. Petersburg! He never enlightened her as to how much the footing on which she maintained her "simple household" surpa.s.sed his present circ.u.mstances.
Every time that he came home he found a new, attractive change. She accomplished great things in artistic arrangement of the so-called "confused style," which at that time was not so common as to-day, but was still a bold innovation.
"_C"est tres joli, mais un peu trop touffu_," said he to her once when she met him, quite particularly conscious of victory and awaiting praise, with the knowledge of a new, costly improvement in the arrangement of the drawing-room.
"Yes, my love; but a drawing-room is neither an official audience-room nor a gymnasium," replied she, somewhat offended.
"Nor a ball-room nor riding-school," completed he, jestingly; "but--h"m--still one should be able to move in it. Do you not think so?"
"That is as one looks at it. I have nothing to do with it if you cannot brandish around too freely in it."
They went out in society quite frequently--in Natalie"s society. That many people, especially Natalie"s near relations, made comments on the marriage of the spoiled child of a prince with a violinist is easily understood. But scarcely had they seen Boris and his young wife together a few times when the comments ceased. A full, true, young human happiness always causes respect, and, like every achievement, bears its triumphant justification in itself. The leader of fashion, Princess Lydia Petrovna B., declared publicly, and, indeed, in the highest court circles, that in her opinion Natalie had acted very wisely.
Countess Sophie Dimitrievna went a step further when she energetically declared that she envied Natalie. From that time every one vied in fting the young couple and distinguishing them.
They both enjoyed society, but the best part of it was not entering the brilliantly illuminated reception-rooms or being surrounded by wondering strangers. Oh, no! the best of all was the last quarter of an hour before they left their home, when Lensky, already in evening dress, entered the dressing-room of his young wife. Each time he felt anew the same pleasant excitement when he, slowly turning the k.n.o.b, after a teasing, "May I come in, Natalie?" entered the cosey room.
How charming and attractive everything was there! The room with the light carpet and the comfortable, not too numerous articles of cretonne-upholstered furniture; the two tiny gold-embroidered slippers on the rough bear-skin in front of the lounge; not far off, Natalie"s house-dress, thrown over a chair, exhaling the warmth of her young, fresh, fragrant personality. Then there on the toilet-table, with clouds of white muslin over the pink lining, and with sparkling silver and crystal utensils, a pretty confusion of half-opened white lace boxes, and on the table dark velvet jewel-cases. The pleasant, mild, and still bright light of many pink wax-candles, which stood about in high, heavy silver candelabra, and the warm, strange, seductive atmosphere which filled the whole room--an atmosphere which was permeated with the fragrance of greenhouse flowers, burning wax-candles, and the pleasant, subtle, spicy Indian perfume which clung to all Natalie"s effects.
And there, before the tall cheval-gla.s.s, Natalie, already in evening toilet, almost ready, her beautiful arms hanging down in pampered helplessness; behind her a maid, just finished fastening her corsage, and a second, with a three-branched candelabra in her hand, throwing the light upon her mistress.
Was that really his wife? This splendid, queenly being in the white silk dress--she wore white silk in preference--really the wife of the violinist, in whose life, not so far back, lay all kind of need, humiliation, trouble of all kind?
Then she looked around. She had a charming manner of holding her small hands half against her cheeks, half against her neck, and turning slowly from the gla.s.s and looking at him with lowered eyelids, and a kind of mischievously proud and yet tenderly suppressed consciousness of victory. "Are you satisfied, Boris?"
What could he answer?
"You come just as if called," then said she. "You shall put the hair-pins in my hair. Katia is so awkward." Then she sat down in a low chair, and handed him the hair-pins. They were wonderful hair-pins, the heads of which were narcissi formed of diamonds, a bridal present from Lensky. He took them with gentle fingers, and the celebrated artist was proud if his young wife praised him for the taste with which he fastened her diamonds in her hair.
"Natalie!" exclaimed Boris, in a tone of the greatest surprise--a surprise made up of the greatest astonishment and not of joy--"you here?"
It was in his study, and nine o"clock in the morning. At this hour, daily, in crying opposition to his former proverbial unreliability, he had long been sitting at his writing-table. But that Natalie should leave her bedroom before ten o"clock had hitherto been an unheard-of occurrence.
But to-day, just as he was about to go to the piano, to try on that modest representative of an orchestra a completed musical phrase, he discovered her. Quite un.o.bserved, she had mischievously crept in, and now crouched comfortably in a large arm-chair, which formed a very picturesque frame for her silk wrapper, bordered with black fur. She sat on one foot; one tiny gold-embroidered Caucasian slipper lay before her on the floor, and she smiled tenderly at her husband with her great, proud eyes. But the pride disappeared from her glance at his e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n which expressed so much perplexity, so little joy. She started and, embarra.s.sed, reached out for her slipper with the tip of her foot.
"Do I disturb you?" she asked, anxiously. "Must I go?"
Formerly he could not bear to have any one about him when he worked.
His face wore a forced, smiling expression, while he a.s.sured her:
"Oh, not in the slightest--pray sit down." Whereupon he pushed his chair up to hers.
"Oh, if you are going to treat me so!" said she.
"How, then?" asked he.
"Like--like any visitor," she burst out, and hastened to the door. He brought her back. Then he saw that her eyes were full of tears.
"But what is the matter?"
"I am ashamed of my intrusion, that is all. Adieu--I will not disturb you further!"
With that she wished to free herself from him. But that was not so easy. He took her, struggling in his arms like a child, and carried her back by force to the immense chair which they had left. "So now, sit there, and don"t spoil my mood, you witch. Why should I not enjoy your company for a little? Do you think, then, that I am not glad to see you? But you do not expect that I should bend over the table, and spoil paper, while a charming little woman sits behind me? The temptation to talk to you is too great."
She shook her head. "You wish to be good to me, but you pain me,"
murmured she. And she added, flatteringly, "Can you really not work when I am with you?"
"Would you like it if I could?" he asked, and looked at her with a quite new, penetrating expression in his eyes.
He drew his brows together humorously; he was now kneeling before her, and held both her hands in his. "You are not only a charming little woman, Natalie," said he, "but, what very few such beautiful and seductive women are, of a good heart. But still I have noticed one thing in you, namely, that you do not like to be second anywhere. And, do you see, everywhere else you are not only the first, but the only one in the world for me; but here, Natalie, here it must please you that I should forget you for my art!"
"And do you think that I would wish it otherwise?" said she, and there was an earnest, solemn expression in her eyes which he never forgot.
"Oh, you blind one, you do not yet know me at all. Do not kneel there like a hero in a romance; in the long run, it looks not only awkward but uncomfortable. Sit down by me--there is room enough in this immense chair for us both. So! and now--now I will confess to you what I have already so long had on my heart. Do you see, you love me, I do not doubt that, how should I? but--do not be angry with me--sometimes I wish that you loved me differently; I wish to be not only your petted wife, your plaything----"
"My plaything!" he interrupted her, very reproachfully. "Oh, Natalie!
my sanctuary!"
"Well, then, as far as I am concerned, your sanctuary. That, looked at in one light, is also only a plaything, even if of the most distinguished kind." She laughed somewhat constrainedly. "It is certainly immoderate," she continued, and hesitated a little, "horribly immoderate, but still it is so--I--I do not want to be only your plaything, but also your friend--do not be horrified at this audacity--yes, your friend, your confidante. I wish to be the first to share your newly arising thoughts. Lately, it has often hurt me that you busy yourself so much with all kinds of trifles only to give me pleasure. I know it is my fault; at first I was afraid of your genius, which soared heavenward, and wished to accustom you to the earth, and chain you close to me. But then--then I was ashamed of my smallness--ah, so ashamed. You shall not stoop down to me; let me try to rise to you. Spread out your mighty wings, and fly up to the stars, but take me with you!"
He could not speak--only kisses burned on his lips. He pressed them on her wonderful eyes, whose holy light humiliated him. Then, after a while, he murmured, softly: "You are nearer the stars than I, Natalie.
Show me the way, show me the way!"
From then, she daily pa.s.sed a couple of hours in his study. How happy she felt in the great, airy room, which was almost as empty as a shed.
In here she had not ventured with her soft, seductive, decorative arts.