4 Even his love for Sophia—a first, soft, rosy love—did not J restrain him. What was this love to him? He dreamed
! of a colossal passion which should achieve great exploits and
. triumph over every obstacle. He loved Sophia meanwhile with a small love while waiting jbr thegreater. He dreamed, too, of great deeds in his country'sservice. He studied many subjects and diligently. On his certificate it was recorded that he had mastered some dozen sciences and half-dozen languages, ancient and modern. Above all he dreamed of making a name as a writer. His verses were the admiration of his school-fellows. Before him stretched a number of paths; and they seemed each better than the other. He did not know into which to throw himself. Only the straight path was hidden from his eyes; had he . seen it, even now perhaps he would not have gone away.
How could he stay? His mother wished it—that was quite another matter and very natural. In her heart all feelings had died away except one—love for her son, and it clutched feverishly at this last object. Except for him what was left for her ? Nothing but death. It has long been an accepted fact that a woman's heart cannot live without love.
Alexandr had been spoiled, but was not demoralised by his home life. He was so happily formed by Nature that his mother's love and the adoration of all around him only influenced him in a good direction, prematurely awakening, for example, his sympathetic feelings, and inspiring in him an excessive confidence in every one. This very fact perhaps tended to kindle ambition in him, but ambition in itself is only a mould; all will depend on what is the substance you pour into it.
f By far the greatest danger for him was the fact that his
Tnother, for all her devotion to him, could not give him a
true view of life, and did not prepare him for the struggle
A COMMON STORY .11
which awaited him and awaits every man in his turn. Bui this would have needed a master hand, a clear intellect, and a fund of great experience not bounded by the narrow provincial horizon. It would have needed some one who was even able to love him rather less, not to think of him every minute, not to remove out of his way every care and every obstacle, not to weep and to suffer in his place even in his childhood, so as to enable him to feel the approach of difficulties for himself, to meet them with his own forces, and to think for his own future—in a word, to understand that he is a man. How was Anna Pavlovna to know all this, still more to put it into practice J7 The reader has seen what she was. Would he not like to see more of her ?
She had already forgotten her son's selfishness. Alexandr Fedoritch found her engaged in packing a second time his clothes and linen. In the bustle and the preparations for the journey she had apparently completely forgotten her sorrow.
" Here, Sashenka, notice well where I put things," she said. " Below everything, at the bottom of the trunk, the sheets, a dozen. Look, is it right in the list? "
"Yes, mamma."
" All with your mark, you see. A. F. A., all our darling Sonushka. Without her our stupid creatures would not have been ready for a long time. What next ? Ah, the pillow-cases. One, two, three, four—yes, all the dozen here. Here are your shirts, three dozen—what linen ! Look at it —it's Dutch make—I drove myself to the shop, to Vassili Vassilitch's; he brought out the three best pieces he had. Mind you count them over by the list, dear boy, every time you get them home from the laundress; they are all bran new. You won't see many such shirts in Petersburg, very likely they will change them; there are such dishonest creatures to be sure, who have no fear of God. Socks— twenty-two pairs. D o y ou know wh 9t T haYS t hni1 g hr of ?
TQDUt your porkpr-hook with ynnr trinity inj^sork^ Vnu
w flTnb 't need any_iilLy£u get to Petersburg—so Ond ffra.nt T if anything should hap pen, they ™*y 1-11™™^^ v^n«- *v>«>y w ill not find It. Anil" the letter tQ.^our uncle I. .have.put the re, too] now"deHghtecTKe"will be toTe sure ! Here's seventeen years gone by and we've never sent a word to one another—that's a long time. Here are your neckties, and
here are the handkerchiefs; one half-dozen is still with Sonushka. Don't tear your handkerchiefs, my darling; they are all good cambric. I bought them at Meheev's at two and a quarter roubles a yard. Now, that's all the linen. Now your clothes. But where is Yevsay ? Why isn't he looking on ? Yevsay !"
Yevsay came lazily into the room.
" What are your orders ? " he asked still more lazily.
" What are my orders ? " repeated Anna Pavlovna angrily. " Why aren't you looking where I pack the things ? But when you want anything on the journey, you will go and turn everything topsy-turvy. He can't tear himself from his sweetheart, such a treasure ! The day is long enough, you will have plenty of time. Is this how you mean to look after your master in Petersburg ? You had better be careful. Look here : these are the dress clothes ; you see where I lay them? And you, Sashenka, be careful of them; don't wear them every day; the cloth cost sixteen roubles a yard. When you go to see the best people wear it and don't sit down all anyhow, like your auntie, who never could sit down on an empty chair or sofa, but was bound to go and plump down where some one had put a hat or some such thing; the other day she sat down on a saucer of jam—such a mess she made ! When you go out rather more quietly wear this coat here. Now your waistcoats—one, two, three, four. Two pairs of trousers. Well, there are clothes to last you the next three years. Ah ! I am tired and no mistake, the whole morning I have been on my legs. You can go, Yevsay. Let us talk a little of something else. Soon our guests will be here, and then there will be no time." She sat down on the sofa and made her son sit down beside her.
" Well, Sasha," she said after a short silence, " you are now going to a strange land."
" A strange land ! Petersburg ! How you talk, mamma."
" Wait a little, wait a little, hear what I want to say! God alone knows what awaits you there, what you will meet with, good and bad. I trust He, our Father in Heaven, will guard you; and you, my dear, above all, don't forget Him; remember that without faith there is no salvation anywhere or in anything. You will take a good position there, you will mix with people of consequence—indeed, we
are as good as anybody; vo ur father was a nob leman, a major—all the same, humble yourself before the Lord God; pray both in good fortune and in bad; and not like the proverb—' the peasant does not cross himself till he hears the thunder.' There are men, who, while they have good luck, don't even go to church, and then when they come to grief, they will put up candles at a rouble a piece, and will give alms to the poor—that is a great sin. And while we are talking of the poor—don't waste money on them too often, don't give away too much. Why should you spoil them ? They won't think any the more of you for it. They will spend it in drink and only laugh at you. You have a soft heart, I know; you would be ready, I dare say, to give away even a sixpenny piece. No, that's not necessary; God will provide I Will you visit the house of God ? Will you go every Sunday to Mass ? "
She sighed.
Alexandr was silent. He remembered that while he was studying at the university and living in the capital of the province, he had not been very zealous in going to church, and in the country it was only from desire to please his mother that he had accompanied her to mass. He was ashamed to tell a lie. His mother understood his silence' and sighed again.
" Well, I won't compel you," she continued, " you are a young man—how could you be as zealous in the house of God as an old woman like me? Perhaps your official duties now will hinder you, or you will be staying late at some grand houses and will oversleep yourself. God will have pity on your, youth. Don't be troubled; you have a mother; she will not oversleep. So long as there is a drop of blood left in my body, so long as my tears are not dried up in my eyes, and God has compassion on my sins, I will crawl, if I have not the strength to walk, along the road to church. I will give my last breath, I will shed my last tear for you, my dear. My prayers shall win you health and position and decorations and heavenly and earthly blessings. Can it be that He, our Father in Heaven, will despise the prayers of a poor old woman ? For myself I want nothing. Let Him take everything from me, health, life, sight—only may He grant you every pleasure, every happiness and good "