First love, and other stories. Иван Тургенев

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СКАЧАТЬ said, caressingly lowering her voice:—“I don’t like that. … Your face pleases me; I foresee that we shall be friends. And do you like me?”—she added slyly.

      “Princess. …” I was beginning. …

      “In the first place, call me Zinaída Alexándrovna; and in the second place—what sort of a habit is it for children”—(she corrected herself)—“for young men—not to say straight out what they feel? You do like me, don’t you?”

      Although it was very pleasant to me to have her talk so frankly to me, still I was somewhat nettled. I wanted to show her that she was not dealing with a small boy, and, assuming as easy and serious a mien as I could, I said:—“Of course I like you very much, Zinaída Alexándrovna; I have no desire to conceal the fact.”

      She shook her head, pausing at intervals.—“Have you a governor?”—she suddenly inquired.

      “No, I have not had a governor this long time past.”

      I lied: a month had not yet elapsed since I had parted with my Frenchman.

      “Oh, yes, I see: you are quite grown up.”

      She slapped me lightly on the fingers.—“Hold your hands straight!”—And she busied herself diligently with winding her ball.

      I took advantage of the fact that she did not raise her eyes, and set to scrutinising her, first by stealth, then more and more boldly. Her face seemed to me even more charming than on the day before: everything about it was so delicate, intelligent and lovely. She was sitting with her back to the window, which was hung with a white shade; a ray of sunlight making its way through that shade inundated with a flood of light her fluffy golden hair, her innocent neck, sloping shoulders, and calm, tender bosom.—I gazed at her—and how near and dear she became to me! It seemed to me both that I had known her for a long time and that I had known nothing and had not lived before she came. … She wore a rather dark, already shabby gown, with an apron; I believe I would willingly have caressed every fold of that gown and of that apron. The tips of her shoes peeped out from under her gown; I would have bowed down to those little boots. … “And here I sit, in front of her,”—I thought.—“I have become acquainted with her … what happiness, my God!” I came near bouncing out of my chair with rapture, but I merely dangled my feet to and fro a little, like a child who is enjoying dainties.

      I felt as much at my ease as a fish does in water, and I would have liked never to leave that room again as long as I lived.

      Her eyelids slowly rose, and again her brilliant eyes beamed caressingly before me, and again she laughed.

      “How you stare at me!”—she said slowly, shaking her finger at me.

      I flushed scarlet. … “She understands all, she sees all,”—flashed through my head. “And how could she fail to see and understand all?”

      Suddenly there was a clattering in the next room, and a sword clanked.

      “Zína!”—screamed the old Princess from the drawing-room.—“Byelovzóroff has brought thee a kitten.”

      “A kitten!”—cried Zinaída, and springing headlong from her chair, she flung the ball on my knees and ran out.

      I also rose, and, laying the skein of wool on the window-sill, went into the drawing-room, and stopped short in amazement. In the centre of the room lay a kitten with outstretched paws; Zinaída was kneeling in front of it, and carefully raising its snout. By the side of the young Princess, taking up nearly the entire wall-space between the windows, was visible a fair-complexioned, curly-haired young man, a hussar, with a rosy face and protruding eyes.

      “How ridiculous!”—Zinaída kept repeating:—“and its eyes are not grey, but green, and what big ears it has! Thank you, Viktór Egóritch! you are very kind.”

      The hussar, in whom I recognised one of the young men whom I had seen on the preceding evening, smiled and bowed, clicking his spurs and clanking the links of his sword as he did so.

      “You were pleased to say yesterday that you wished to possess a striped kitten with large ears … so I have got it, madam. Your word is my law.”—And again he bowed.

      The kitten mewed faintly, and began to sniff at the floor.

      “He is hungry!”—cried Zinaída.—“Vonifáty! Sónya! bring some milk.”

      The chambermaid, in an old yellow gown and with a faded kerchief on her head, entered with a saucer of milk in her hand, and placed it in front of the kitten. The kitten quivered, blinked, and began to lap.

      “What a rosy tongue it has,”—remarked Zinaída, bending her head down almost to the floor, and looking sideways at it, under its very nose.

      The kitten drank its fill, and began to purr, affectedly contracting and relaxing its paws. Zinaída rose to her feet, and turning to the maid, said indifferently:—“Take it away.”

      “Your hand—in return for the kitten,”—said the hussar, displaying his teeth, and bending over the whole of his huge body, tightly confined in a new uniform.

      “Both hands,”—replied Zinaída, offering him her hands. While he was kissing them, she gazed at me over his shoulder.

      I stood motionless on one spot, and did not know whether to laugh or to say something, or to hold my peace. Suddenly, through the open door of the anteroom, the figure of our footman, Feódor, caught my eye. He was making signs to me. I mechanically went out to him.

      “What dost thou want?”—I asked.

      “Your mamma has sent for you,”—he said in a whisper.—“She is angry because you do not return with an answer.”

      “Why, have I been here long?”

      “More than an hour.”

      “More than an hour!”—I repeated involuntarily, and returning to the drawing-room, I began to bow and scrape my foot.

      “Where are you going?”—the young Princess asked me, with a glance at the hussar.

      “I must go home, madam. So I am to say,”—I added, addressing the old woman—“that you will call upon us at two o’clock.”

      “Say that, my dear fellow.”

      The old Princess hurriedly drew out her snuffbox, and took a pinch so noisily that I fairly jumped.—“Say that,”—she repeated, tearfully blinking and grunting.

      I bowed once more, turned and left the room with the same sensation of awkwardness in my back which a very young man experiences when he knows that people are staring after him.

      “Look here, M’sieu Voldemar, you must drop in to see us,”—called Zinaída, and again burst out laughing.

      “What makes her laugh all the time?” I thought, as I wended my way home accompanied by Feódor, who said nothing to me, but moved along disapprovingly behind me. My mother reproved me, and inquired, with surprise, “What could I have been doing so long at the Princess’s?” I made her no answer, and went off to my own room. I had suddenly grown very СКАЧАТЬ