The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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      CHAPTER X

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       I WENT STRAIGHT to Alyosha’s. He lived with his father in Little Morskaya. Prince Valkovsky had a rather large flat, though he lived alone. Alyosha had two splendid rooms in the flat. I had very rarely been to see him, only once before, I believe, in fact. He had come to see me much oftener, especially at first, during the early period of his connexion with Natasha.

      He was not at home. I went straight to his rooms and wrote him the following note:

      “Alyosha, you seem to have gone out of your mind. As on Tuesday evening your father himself asked Natasha to do you the honour of becoming your wife, and you were delighted at his doing so, as I saw myself, you must admit that your behaviour is somewhat strange. Do you know what you are doing to Natasha? In any case this note will remind you that your behaviour towards your future wife is unworthy and frivolous in the extreme. I am very well aware that I have no right to lecture you, but I don’t care about that in the least.

      “P.S. — She knows nothing about this letter, and in fact it was not she who told me about you.”

      I sealed up the letter and left it on his table. In answer to my question the servant said that Alexey Petrovitch was hardly ever at home, and that he would not be back now till the small hours of the morning.

      I could hardly get home. I was overcome with giddiness, and my legs were weak and trembling. My door was open. Nikolay Sergeyitch Ichmenyev was sitting waiting for me. He was sitting at the table watching Elena in silent wonder, and she, too, was watching him with no less wonder, though she was obstinately silent. “To be sure,” I thought, “he must think her queer.”

      “Well, my boy, I’ve been waiting for you for a good hour, and I must confess I had never expected to find things … like this,” he went on, looking round the room, with a scarcely perceptible sign towards Elena.

      His face expressed his astonishment. But looking at him more closely I noticed in him signs of agitation and distress. His face was paler than usual.

      “Sit down, sit down,” he said with a preoccupied and anxious air. “I’ve come round to you in a hurry. I’ve something to say to you. But what’s the matter? You don’t look yourself.”

      “I’m not well. I’ve been giddy all day.”

      “Well, mind, you mustn’t neglect that. Have you caught cold, or what?”

      “No, it’s simply a nervous attack. I sometimes have them. But aren’t you unwell?”

      “No, no! It’s nothing; it’s excitement. I’ve something to say. Sit down.”

      I moved a chair over and sat down at the table, facing him. The old man bent forward to me, and said in a half whisper:

      “Mind, don’t look at her, but seem as though we were speaking of something else. What sort of visitor is this you’ve got here?”

      “I’ll explain to you afterwards, Nikolay Sergeyitch. This poor girl is absolutely alone in the world. She’s the grandchild of that old Smith who used to live here and died at the confectioner’s.”

      “Ah, so he had a grandchild! Well, my boy, she’s a queer little thing! How she stares, how she stares! I tell you plainly if you hadn’t come in I couldn’t have stood it another five minutes. She would hardly open the door, and all this time not a word! It’s quite uncanny; she’s not like a human being. But how did she come here? I suppose she came to see her grandfather, not knowing he was died?”

      “Yes, she has been very unfortunate. The old man thought of her when he was dying.”