"May I come with you?"
Natalya looked at Mlle, Boncourt
"_Mais certainement, monsieur; avec plaisir_," said the old lady promptly.
Rudin took his hat and walked with them.
Natalya at first felt some awkwardness in walking side by side with Rudin on the same little path; afterwards she felt more at ease. He began to question her about her occupations and how she liked the country. She replied not without timidity, but without that hasty bashfulness which is so often taken for modesty. Her heart was beating.
"You are not bored in the country?" asked Rudin, taking her in with a sidelong glance.
"How can one be bored in the country? I am very glad we are here. I am very happy here."
"You are happy--that is a great word. However, one can understood it; you are young."
Rudin p.r.o.nounced this last phrase rather strangely; either he envied Natalya or he was sorry for her.
"Yes! youth!" he continued, "the whole aim of science is to reach consciously what is bestowed on youth for nothing."
Natalya looked attentively at Rudin; she did not understand him.
"I have been talking all this morning with your mother," he went on; "she is an extraordinary woman. I understand why all our poets sought her friendship. Are you fond of poetry?" he added, after a pause.
"He is putting me through an examination," thought Natalya, and aloud: "Yes, I am very fond of it."
"Poetry is the language of the G.o.ds. I love poems myself. But poetry is not only in poems; it is diffused everywhere, it is around us. Look at those trees, that sky on all sides there is the breath of beauty, and of life, and where there is life and beauty, there is poetry also."
"Let us sit down here on this bench," he added. "Here--so. I somehow fancy that when you are more used to me (and he looked her in the face with a smile) "we shall be friends, you and I. What do you think?"
"He treats me like a school-girl," Natalya reflected again, and, not knowing what to say, she asked him whether he intended to remain long in the country.
"All the summer and autumn, and perhaps the winter too. I am a very poor man, you know; my affairs are in confusion, and, besides, I am tired now of wandering from place to place. The time has come to rest."
Natalya was surprised.
"Is it possible you feel that it is time for you to rest?" she asked him timidly.
Rudin turned so as to face Natalya.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," she replied in some embarra.s.sment, "that others may rest; but you... you ought to work, to try to be useful. Who, if not you----"
"I thank you for your flattering opinion," Rudin interrupted her. "To be useful... it is easy to say!" (He pa.s.sed his hand over his face.) "To be useful!" he repeated. "Even if I had any firm conviction, how could I be useful?--even if I had faith in my own powers, where is one to find true, sympathetic souls?"
And Rudin waved his hand so hopelessly, and let his head sink so gloomily, that Natalya involuntarily asked herself, were those really his--those enthusiastic words full of the breath of hope, she had heard the evening before.
"But no," he said, suddenly tossing back his lion-like mane, "that is all folly, and you are right. I thank you, Natalya Alexyevna, I thank you truly." (Natalya absolutely did not know what he was thanking her for.) "Your single phrase has recalled to me my duty, has pointed out to me my path.... Yes, I must act. I must not bury my talent, if I have any; I must not squander my powers on talk alone--empty, profitless talk--on mere words," and his words flowed in a stream. He spoke n.o.bly, ardently, convincingly, of the sin of cowardice and indolence, of the necessity of action. He lavished reproaches on himself, maintained that to discuss beforehand what you mean to do is as unwise as to p.r.i.c.k with a pin the swelling fruit, that it is only a vain waste of strength and sap. He declared that there was no n.o.ble idea which would not gain sympathy, that the only people who remained misunderstood were those who either did not know themselves what they wanted, or were not worthy to be understood. He spoke at length, and ended by once more thanking Natalya Alexyevna, and utterly unexpectedly pressed her hand, exclaiming. "You are a n.o.ble, generous creature!"
This outburst horrified Mlle, Boncourt, who in spite of her forty years"
residence in Russia understood Russian with difficulty, and was only moved to admiration by the splendid rapidity and flow of words on Rudin"s lips. In her eyes, however, he was something of the nature of a virtuoso or artist; and from people of that kind, according to her notions, it was impossible to demand a strict adherence to propriety.
She got up and drew her skirts with a jerk around her, observed to Natalya that it was time to go in, especially as M. Volinsoff (so she spoke of Volintsev) was to be there to lunch.
"And here he is," she added, looking up one of the avenues which led to the house, and in fact Volintsev appeared not far off.
He came up with a hesitating step, greeted all of them from a distance, and with an expression of pain on his face he turned to Natalya and said:
"Oh, you are having a walk?"
"Yes," answered Natalya, "we were just going home."
"Ah!" was Volintsev"s reply. "Well, let us go," and they all walked towards the house.
"How is your sister?" Rudin inquired, in a specially cordial tone, of Volintsev. The evening before, too, he had been very gracious to him.
"Thank you; she is quite well. She will perhaps be here to-day.... I think you were discussing something when I came up?"
"Yes; I have had a conversation with Natalya Alexyevna. She said one thing to me which affected me strongly."
Volintsev did not ask what the one thing was, and in profound silence they all returned to Darya Mihailovna"s house.
Before dinner the party was again a.s.sembled in the drawing-room.
Pigasov, however, did not come. Rudin was not at his best; he did nothing but press Pandalevsky to play Beethoven. Volintsev was silent and stared at the floor. Natalya did not leave her mother"s side, and was at times lost in thought, and then bent over her work. Ba.s.sistoff did not take his eyes off Rudin, constantly on the alert for him to say something brilliant. About three hours were pa.s.sed in this way rather monotonously. Alexandra Pavlovna did not come to dinner, and when they rose from table Volintsev at once ordered his carriage to be ready, and slipped away without saying good-bye to any one.
His heart was heavy. He had long loved Natalya, and was repeatedly resolving to make her an offer.... She was kindly disposed to him,--but her heart remained unmoved; he saw that clearly. He did not hope to inspire in her a tenderer sentiment, and was only waiting for the time when she should be perfectly at home with him and intimate with him.
What could have disturbed him? what change had he noticed in these two days? Natalya had behaved to him exactly the same as before....
Whether it was that some idea had come upon him that he perhaps did not know Natalya"s character at all--that she was more a stranger to him than he had thought,--or jealousy had begun to work in him, or he had some dim presentiment of ill... anyway, he suffered, though he tried to reason with himself.
When he came in to his sister"s room, Lezhnyov was sitting with her.
"Why have you come back so early?" asked Alexandra Pavlovna.
"Oh! I was bored."
"Was Rudin there?"
"Yes."
Volintsev flung down his cap and sat down. Alexandra Pavlovna turned eagerly to him.
"Please, Serezha, help me to convince this obstinate man (she signified Lezhnyov) that Rudin is extraordinarily clever and eloquent."
Volintsev muttered something.
"But I am not disputing at all with you," Lezhnyov began. "I have no doubt of the cleverness and eloquence of Mr. Rudin; I only say that I don"t like him."