The Engagement

Madame Hohlakov was again the first to meet Alyosha. She was flustered; something important had happened. Katerina Ivanovna’s hysterics had ended in a fainting fit, and then “a terrible, awful weakness had followed, she lay with her eyes turned up and was delirious. Now she was in a fever. They had sent for Herzenstube; they had sent for the aunts. The aunts were already here, but Herzenstube had not yet come. They were all sitting in her room, waiting. She was unconscious now, and what if it turned to brain fever!”

Madame Hohlakov looked gravely alarmed. “This is serious, serious,” she added at every word, as though nothing that had happened to her before had been serious. Alyosha listened with distress, and was beginning to describe his adventures, but she interrupted him at the first words. She had not time to listen. She begged him to sit with Lise and wait for her there.

“Lise,” she whispered almost in his ear, “Lise has greatly surprised me just now, dear Alexey Fyodorovitch. She touched me, too, and so my heart forgives her everything. Only fancy, as soon as you had gone, she began to be truly remorseful for having laughed at you to-day and yesterday, though she was not laughing at you, but only joking. But she was seriously sorry for it, almost ready to cry, so that I was quite surprised. She has never been really sorry for laughing at me, but has only made a joke of it. And you know she is laughing at me every minute. But this time she was in earnest. She thinks a great deal of your opinion, Alexey Fyodorovitch, and don’t take offence or be wounded by her if you can help it. I am never hard upon her, for she’s such a clever little thing—would you believe it? She said just now that you were a friend of her childhood, ‘the greatest friend of her childhood’—just think of that—‘greatest friend’—and what about me? She has very strong feelings and memories, and, what’s more, she uses these phrases, most unexpected words, which come out all of a sudden when you least expect them. She spoke lately about a pine-tree, for instance: there used to be a pine-tree standing in our garden in her early childhood. Very likely it’s standing there still; so there’s no need to speak in the past tense. Pine-tense. are not like people, Alexey Fyodorovitch, they don’t change quickly. ‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘I remember this pine-tree as in a dream,’ only she said something so original about it that I can’t repeat it. Besides, I’ve forgotten it. Well, good-bye! I am so worried I feel I shall go out of my mind. Ah! Alexey Fyodorovitch, I’ve been out of my mind twice in my life. Go to Lise, cheer her up, as you always can so charmingly. Lise,” she cried, going to her door, “her I’ve brought you Alexey Fyodorovitch, whom you insulted so. He is not at all angry, I assure you; on the contrary, he is surprised that you could suppose so.”

“Merci, maman. Come in, Alexey Fyodorovitch.”

Alyosha went in. Lise looked rather embarrassed, and at once flushed crimson. She was evidently ashamed of something, and, as people always do in such cases, she began immediately talking of other things, as though they were of absorbing interest to her at the moment.

“Mamma has just told me all about the two hundred roubles, Alexey Fyodorovitch, and your taking them to that poor officer … and she told me all the awful story of how he had been insulted … and you know, although mamma muddles things … she always rushes from one thing to another … I cried when I heard. Well, did you give him the money and how is that poor man getting on?”

“The fact is I didn’t give it to him, and it’s a long story,” answered Alyosha, as though he, too, could think of nothing but his regret at having failed, yet Lise saw perfectly well that he, too, looked away, and that he, too, was trying to talk of other things.

Alyosha sat down to the table and began to tell his story, but at the first words he lost his embarrassment and gained the whole of Lise’s attention as well. He spoke with deep feeling, under the influence of the strong impression he had just received, and he succeeded in telling his story well and circumstantially. In old days in Moscow he had been fond of coming to Lise and describing to her what had just happened to him, what he had read, or what he remembered of his childhood. Sometimes they had made day- dreams and woven whole romances together—generally cheerful and amusing ones. Now they both felt