He shook my hand with exaggerated heartiness, exchanged a glance with Masloboev, and went away.
“Tell me for mercy’s sake…,” I began, as I went into the room.
“I won’t tell you anything,” Masloboev interrupted, hurriedly snatching up his cap and going towards the entry. “I’ve business. I must run, too, my boy. I’m late.”
“Why, you wrote to me yourself to come at twelve o’clock!”
“What if I did write twelve o’clock? I wrote to you yesterday, but to-day I’ve been written to myself, and such a piece of business that my head’s in a whirl! They’re waiting for me. Forgive me, Vanya, the only thing I can suggest to you by way of satisfaction is to punch my head for having troubled you for nothing. If you want satisfaction, punch it; only, for Christ’s sake, make haste! Don’t keep me.
I’ve business. I’m late….”
“What should I punch your head for? Make haste then if you’ve business…things unforeseen may happen to anyone. Only….”
“Yes, as for that only, let me tell you,” he interrupted, dashing out into the entry and putting on his coat (I followed his example). “I have business with you, too; very important business; that’s why I asked you to come; it directly concerns you and your interests. And as it’s impossible to tell you about it in one minute now, for goodness’ sake promise me to come to me to-day at seven o’clock, neither before nor after. I’ll be at home.”
“To-day,” I said uncertainly. “Well, old man, I did mean this evening to go….”
“Go at once, dear boy. where you meant to go this evening, and come this evening to me. For you can’t imagine, Vanya, the things I have to tell you.”
“But I say, what is it? I confess you make me curious.”
Meanwhile we had come out of the gate and were standing on the pavement.
“So you’ll come?” he asked insistently.
“I’ve told you I will.”
“No, give me your word of honour.”
“Foo! what a fellow! Very well, my word of honour.”
“Noble and excellent. Which way are you going?”
“This way,” I answered, pointing to the right.
“Well, this is my way,” said he, pointing to the left. “Goodbye, Vanya. Remember, seven o’clock.”
“Strange,” thought I, looking after him.
I had meant to be at Natasha’s in the evening. But as now I had given my word to Masloboev, I decided to call on Natasha at once. I felt sure I should find Alyosha there. And, as a fact, he was there, and was greatly delighted when I came in.
He was very charming, extremely tender with Natasha, and seemed positively to brighten up at my arrival. Though Natasha tried to be cheerful it was obviously an effort. Her face looked pale and ill, and she had slept badly. To Alyosha she showed an exaggerated tenderness.
Though Alyosha said a great deal and told her all sorts of things, evidently trying to cheer her up and to bring a smile to her lips, which seemed set in unsmiling gravity, he obviously avoided speaking of Katya or of his father. Evidently his efforts at reconciliation had not succeeded.
“Do you know what? He wants dreadfully to get away from me,” Natasha whispered to me hurriedly when he went out for a minute to give some order to Mavra. “But he’s afraid. And I’m afraid to tell him to go myself, for then perhaps he’ll stay on purpose; but what I’m most afraid of is his being bored with me, and getting altogether cold to me through that! What am I to do?”
“Good heavens, what a position you’ve put yourselves in! And how suspicious, how watchful you are of one another. Simply explain to him and have done with it. Why, he may well be weary of such a position.”
“What’s to be done?” she cried, panic-stricken.
“Wait a minute. I’ll arrange it all for you.”
And I went into the kitchen on the pretext of asking Mavra to clean one of my overshoes which was covered with mud.
“Be careful, Vanya,” she cried after me.
As soon as I went out to Mavra, Alyosha flew up to me as though he had been waiting for me.
“Ivan Petrovitch, my dear fellow, what am I to do? Do advise me. I promised yesterday to be at Katya’s just at this time to-day. I can’t avoid going. I love Natasha beyond expression; I would go through the fire for her, but you’ll admit that I can’t throw up everything over there….”
“Well, go then.”
“But what about Natasha? I shall grieve her, you know. Ivan Petrovitch, do get me out of it somehow….”
“I think you’d much better go. You know how she loves you; she will be thinking all the while that you are bored with her and staying with her against your will. It’s better to be more unconstrained. Come along, though. I’ll help you.”
“Dear Ivan Petrovitch, how kind you are!”
We went back; a minute later I said to him:
“I saw your father just now.”
“Where?” he cried, frightened.
“In the street, by chance. He stopped to speak to me a minute, and asked again to become better acquainted with me. He was asking about you, whether I knew where you were now. He was very anxious to see you, to tell you something.”
“Ach, Alyosha, you’d better go and show yourself,” Natasha put in, understanding what I was leading up to.
“But where shall I meet him now? Is he at home?”
“No, I remember he said he was going to the countess’s.”
“What shall I do, then?” Alyosha asked naively, looking mournfully at Natasha.
“Why, Alyosha, what’s wrong?” she said. “Do you really mean to give up that acquaintance to set my mind at rest? Why, that’s childish. To begin with, it’s impossible, and secondly, it would be ungrateful to Katya. You are friends — it’s impossible to break off relations so rudely. You’ll offend me at last if you think I’m so jealous. Go at once, go, I beg you, and satisfy your father.”
“Natasha, you’re an angel, and I’m not worth your little finger,” cried Alyosha rapturously and remorsefully. “You are so kind, while I…I…well, let me tell you, I’ve just been asking Ivan Petrovitch out there in the kitchen to help me to get away. And this was his plan. But don’t be hard on me, Natasha, my angel! I’m not altogether to blame, for I love you a thousand times more than anything on earth, and so I’ve made a new plan — to tell Katya everything and describe to her our present position and all that happened here yesterday. She’ll think of something to save us; she’s devoted to us, heart and soul….”
“Well, go along,” said Natasha, smiling. “And I tell you what, I am very anxious to make Katya’s acquaintance myself. How can we arrange it?”
Alyosha’s enthusiasm was beyond all bounds. He began at once making plans for bringing about a meeting. To his mind it was very simple; Katya would find a way. He enlarged on his idea warmly, excitedly. He promised to bring an answer that day, within a couple of hours, and to spend the evening with Natasha.
“Will