First Love by Ivan Turgenev

Russian Literature – Children Books – Russian Poetry – Ivan Turgenev – First Love – Contents

XIII

I was so happy and proud all that day; I preserved so vividly on my visage the feeling of Zinaída’s kisses; I recalled her every word with such ecstasy; I so cherished my unexpected happiness that I even became frightened; I did not even wish to see her who was the cause of those new sensations. It seemed to me that I could ask nothing more of Fate, that now I must “take and draw a deep breath for the last time, and die.” On the other hand, when I set off for the wing next day, I felt a great agitation, which I vainly endeavoured to conceal beneath the discreet facial ease suitable for a man who wishes to let it be understood that he knows how to keep a secret. Zinaída received me very simply, without any emotion, merely shaking her finger at me and asking: Had I any bruises? All my discreet ease of manner and mysteriousness instantly disappeared, and along with them my agitation. Of course I had not expected anything in particular, but Zinaída’s composure acted on me like a dash of cold water. I understood that I was a child in her eyes—and my heart waxed very heavy! Zinaída paced to and fro in the room, smiling swiftly every time she glanced at me; but her thoughts were far away, I saw that clearly…. “Shall I allude to what happened yesterday myself,”—I thought;—“shall I ask her where she was going in such haste, in order to find out, definitively?” … but I merely waved my hand in despair and sat down in a corner.

Byelovzóroff entered; I was delighted to see him.

“I have not found you a gentle saddle-horse,”—he began in a surly tone;—“Freitag vouches to me for one—but I am not convinced. I am afraid.”

“Of what are you afraid, allow me to inquire?” asked Zinaída.

“Of what? Why, you don’t know how to ride. God forbid that any accident should happen! And what has put that freak into your head?”

“Come, that’s my affair, M’sieu my wild beast. In that case, I will ask Piótr Vasílievitch”…. (My father was called Piótr Vasílievitch…. I was amazed that she should mention his name so lightly and freely, exactly as though she were convinced of his readiness to serve her.)

“You don’t say so!”—retorted Byelovzóroff.—“Is it with him that you wish to ride?”

“With him or some one else,—that makes no difference to you. Only not with you.”

“Not with me,”—said Byelovzóroff.—“As you like. What does it matter? I will get you the horse.”

“But see to it that it is not a cow-like beast. I warn you in advance that I mean to gallop.”

“Gallop, if you wish…. But is it with Malévsky that you are going to ride?”

“And why shouldn’t I ride with him, warrior? Come, quiet down. I’ll take you too. You know that for me Malévsky is now—fie!”—She shook her head.

“You say that just to console me,”—growled Byelovzóroff.

Zinaída narrowed her eyes.—“Does that console you? oh … oh oh … warrior!”—she said at last, as though unable to find any other word.—“And would you like to ride with us, M’sieu Voldemar?”

“I’m not fond of riding … in a large party,” … I muttered, without raising my eyes.

“You prefer a tête-à-tête?… Well, every one to his taste,”—she said, with a sigh.—“But go, Byelovzóroff, make an effort. I want the horse for to-morrow.”

“Yes; but where am I to get the money?”—interposed the old Princess.

Zinaída frowned.

“I am not asking any from you; Byelovzóroff will trust me.”

“He will, he will,” grumbled the old Princess—and suddenly screamed at the top of her voice:—“Dunyáshka!”

“Maman, I made you a present of a bell,”—remarked the young Princess.

“Dunyáshka!”—repeated the old woman.

Byelovzóroff bowed himself out; I went out with him. Zinaída did not detain me.

< < < Chapter XII
Chapter XIV > > >

Russian Literature – Children Books – Russian Poetry – Ivan Turgenev – First Love – Contents

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