That day i spent the whole evening at Natasha’s. I arrived home late. Nelly was asleep. Alexandra Semyonovna had also wanted to sleep, but sat with the patient waiting for me. She immediately proceeded to inform me in a hurried whisper that Nelly had been very cheerful at first, even laughed a lot, but then became downhearted and, on seeing that I wasn’t coming back, became quiet and thoughtful. “Then she began to complain of headache, started to cry and worked herself up into such a state that I really didn’t know what to do with her,” Alexandra Semyonovna added. “She started talking to me about Natalya Nikolayevna, but there was nothing I could tell her, so she stopped questioning me and just went on crying, which is how she fell asleep, in tears. Well, goodbye then, Ivan Petrovich. I think she’s better, but I must be off home – Filip Filipych’s orders. I might as well admit to you, he only let me go for about a couple of hours this time, but I decided to stay. But never mind, don’t worry about me. He wouldn’t dare to make a fuss… Only there’s one thing… Oh, my God, Ivan Petrovich dear, what am I to do – he always comes home tipsy now! He’s very busy over something, he won’t speak to me, he’s down in the dumps, there’s an important matter weighing on his mind. I can see it all, but come the evening he’s drunk all the same… That reminds me, he’ll be home by now, and who’s going to put him to bed? Well, I’m off, I am, goodbye. Goodbye, Ivan Petrovich. I was looking at your books here – you’ve got such a lot, I shouldn’t wonder if they’re all ever so clever too, and here’s me a fool, never read a thing in my life… Well, see you tomorrow…”
But the next day Nelly woke up sad and dejected and wasn’t forthcoming in her responses to me. Nor would she start up a conversation herself as though she had some grudge against me. I only caught a few fleeting glances cast at me furtively; in these glances there was a lot of repressed inner pain, but nevertheless they were relieved by glimpses of tenderness which were absent when she looked at me directly. It was on this day that the scene with the doctor and the administering of the medicine took place. I was at a loss what to think.
But Nelly’s attitude towards me changed radically. Her quirks, caprices – sometimes almost detestation of me – continued to the very day when she left my place for good, right up to the catastrophe which spelt the end of our romance. But of this later.
There were times, however, when for an hour or so she would be affectionate to me as formerly. Her tenderness, it seemed, redoubled on these occasions, though more often than not she would cry bitterly at the same time. But these hours would pass quickly and she would again relapse into her habitual moodiness, regard me with hostility or indulge in some such caprice as with the doctor or, noticing that I was objecting to some new prank of hers, would suddenly begin to laugh, but almost invariably end up crying.
Once she quarrelled even with Alexandra Semyonovna and told her she wanted nothing more to do with her. When, however, I started telling her off in front of Alexandra Semyonovna, she lost her temper, replied in curt snatches charged with pent-up anger, and suddenly lapsed into silence, not uttering a single word for the next two days, during which time she stopped taking her medicine altogether, even refused to eat or drink, and it was only the old doctor who managed to mollify her and persuade her to be reasonable.
I have mentioned already that right from the day of the administering of the medicine a surprising empathy had developed between her and the doctor. Nelly grew to like him very much and always greeted him with a cheerful smile, no matter how sad she happened to be before his arrival. For his part the old man began to visit us every day, sometimes twice a day, even after Nelly had left her sickbed and recovered completely, and it appeared she had charmed him to the extent that he was unable to survive a single day without hearing her laughter and jokes at his expense, not infrequently rather amusing ones. He began to bring her picture books, all with a moral to them. One such he bought especially for her. Then he started bringing her various titbits and sweets in pretty boxes. On those occasions he would make a solemn and heroic entrance, and Nelly would immediately guess that he had come with a present. He would not reveal it though, but merely laugh slyly, sit down next to her, and drop hints that if a certain young lady knew how to behave herself and earn respect in his absence, then such a lady would deserve a generous reward. Saying this he kept looking at her so candidly and amiably that Nelly even while laughing at him in the most blatant manner possible, nevertheless could not fail to exude genuine, warm attachment in her gaze, which brightened on the instant. Finally the old man would rise solemnly from his chair, produce the box of sweets and, presenting it to Nelly, would invariably add, “To my future, beloved wife.” On such occasion he was probably happier than Nelly.
After that it was time for talking, and he always seriously and persuasively implored her to look after her health, and gave her sound medical advice.
“Above all it is necessary to look after your health,” he would say in a dogmatic tone of voice, “first and foremost, to stay alive, and secondly, to be always healthy and thus attain happiness in life. If you are, my dear child, beset by some grief in life, then try to forget it, or better still not think about it at all. If however you don’t have any kind of grief, then… don’t think about it either, but try to think of pleasant things… of something cheerful and amusing…”
“But what is there cheerful and amusing to think of?” Nelly asked.
The doctor would immediately find himself nonplussed.
“Well, now… about some innocent game, appropriate to your age. Or, let me see now… well, something that’s—”
“I don’t want to play. I don’t like playing games,” Nelly replied. “I like new frocks much more.”
“New frocks! Hm. Well, that’s not so good. One must in everything be content with a modest share in life. On the other hand… no matter… it’s all right to like new frocks too.”
“Will you make me lots of new frocks after we’re married?”
“What an idea!” the doctor said, involuntarily knitting his brows. Nelly smiled mischievously, and once, forgetting herself, glanced over at me too, beaming. “But now you mention it… I will make you a dress if you earn it by your behaviour,” the doctor went on.
“And will I still have to take the powders every day after I marry you?”
“Well, then you might sometimes be excused from taking the powders,” and the doctor would begin to smile.
Nelly used to interrupt such conversations with a burst of laughter. The old doctor laughed with her and with a loving eye took note of her cheerful disposition.
“A playful mind!” he said, turning to me. “But there’s still capriciousness in evidence and a certain fastidiousness and irritability.”
He was right. I really was at a loss as to what was the matter with her. She appeared not to want to talk to me at all, as though I were guilty of something. I felt very bitter about it. I became irritated and on one occasion I would not speak to her a whole day, but the next day I felt ashamed of myself. Often she would cry, and I had no idea at all how to comfort her. However, one day she broke her silence.
I returned home before dark and saw Nelly hastily hide a book under her pillow. It was my novel, which she had taken from the table to read in my absence. But why hide it from me? “It’s as though she’s embarrassed,” I thought to myself but did not let on that I had seen anything. A quarter of an hour later when I walked into the kitchen for a minute, she quickly jumped out of bed and replaced the novel in its original position. When I returned, I saw it was already lying on the table. A minute later she called me over; there was some anxiety in her voice. It was almost four days since she had spoken to me last.
“Are you… going… to Natasha’s today?” she asked me in a faltering voice.
“Yes, Nelly. It’s important that I see her today.”
Nelly went silent.
“You… love her a lot?” she asked again in a feeble voice.
“Yes, Nelly, I love her very much.”
“And I love her too,” she added softly. There was another pause.
“I want to go to her and live with her,” Nelly began again, casting me a meek glance.
“That’s not possible, Nelly,” I replied, somewhat surprised. “Don’t you like it here?”
“Why not possible?” she remonstrated. “Haven’t you been trying to persuade me to go and live with her father, which I don’t want to do? Has she got a maid?”
“She has.”
“Well, let her dismiss her maid, and I’ll wait upon her. I’ll do everything for her and won’t charge her a thing. I’ll love her and cook meals for her. Tell her that today.”
“But what for? This is sheer fantasy, Nelly! And what an idea you have of her? Do you really think she’d agree to take you on as a cook? If she were to take you, it’d be as an equal, as a younger sister.”
“No, I don’t want to be equal. I don’t want it like that…”
“But why?”
Nelly was silent. Her lips were quivering. She was on the point of crying.
“The man she’s in love with now is going to go away and leave her, isn’t he?” she asked at last.
I was astonished.
“But how do you know that, Nelly?”
“You told me everything yourself, and the other day when Alexandra Semyonovna’s husband came here in the morning, I asked him and he told me everything.”
“I say, was Masloboyev really here in the morning?”
“He was,” she replied, looking down.
“And why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I don’t know…”
I thought for a moment, “What business did Masloboyev have to act the clown? What was his motive?” I had to see him.
“So what is it to you, Nelly, if he leaves her?”
“You love her a lot, don’t you?” Nelly replied without raising her eyes. “And if you love her, it means you’ll marry her after he’s gone.”
“No, Nelly, she doesn’t love me as I do her, and I too… No, that won’t happen, Nelly.”
“And I’d have waited upon both of you like your servant,” she said almost in a whisper, not looking at me, “and you’d have lived and enjoyed yourselves.
“What’s the matter with her, what’s wrong with her!” I thought to myself, and felt a sudden pang of distress. Nelly fell silent and did not say a single word more for the rest of the evening. However, after I left, she began to cry and cried the whole night through, as Alexandra Semyonovna informed me, and that was how she fell asleep, in tears. She cried even during her sleep and continued to speak deliriously.
But from that day on she became ever more sullen and uncommunicative, and would not speak to me at all. True, I caught two or three glances which she cast at me furtively and that were so full of tenderness! But this passed, together with the instant that had evoked this unexpected tenderness, and as though in response to this momentary relaxation, Nelly grew more melancholy almost by the hour, even with the doctor, who was surprised by the change in her demeanour. In the meantime she recovered almost completely, and the doctor at last allowed her to go out in the fresh air, only not for very long. The weather was bright and warm. It was Holy Week, which that year fell very late. I went out in the morning; I needed to see Natasha urgently, but was determined to be back early, so as to take Nelly for a walk; for the while I left her at home on her own.
But I cannot describe the shock that awaited me on my return. I was making my way home in something of a hurry. On reaching the front door I saw the key inserted in the keyhole from the outside. I went in – no one there. I was stunned. I looked around. On the table was a piece of paper and pencilled on it in a large uneven hand:
I have left you and shall never come back to you. But I love you very much.
Your faithful Nelly
I cried out in horror and rushed out of the house.