Boris Lensky

ky, in a superior, quite negligent manner, threw to the public a bravura piece by so

Lensky shows himself no more. He and his son roll along in a cab to the Hotel W

are still quivering from the fierce, jubilant storm of applause. Something like an e

und for a pale little face with large, gloomy eyes and melancholy, lovely mouth. How she had listened to his father's playing, quite with a kind of horror in her solemn

, golden-brown hair, had touched his cheek. He could not forget it; it seemed to him that he still held her; he felt the unconscious leaning of the warm young body against his breast. And this little face! How much more beautifu

young heart be? Ah, to be able to console her! A

Colia?" asks a ro

e in his silence to his father. He should h

ther," he remarks, while he ha

beg you! A success is always like an epidemic or a conflagration. No one really knows why. Sometimes one ac

young

she p

pleas

ainted because she w

rom excitement. I have never seen an

pretty young woman! Mais c'est un succès de

ps before the Ho

th me?" Lensky as

permit me," r

urself to anything from politeness. You must not, if you do not wish.

men are strange enough. At heart they evidently cling to each other very greatly; stil

our may I come

n peace with your aristocratic manners. Do not forget that you have a proletary

irst story of the hotel, where ar

ly annoy each other," the virtuoso has from the beginning signified to his

y, half an hour later, t

y, in the r?le of guest in artistic circles, is in some manner annoying to Nikolai. He feels especially constrained, seems to himself awkward in his pedantically correct clothes; he wears a dress-coat and white cravat, because after dinner he is going into society--laughable. The place opposite his father has been left vacant for him. His eyes wander over the guests. He sees a strikingly dressed young harpist, w

e men?" Nikolai asks himself,

unrecognized composer. His boundless kindness of heart never fails with poor unfortunates, however raging, untamably wild, quite rough

universal tone, the more unrestrained Lensky. His manner

gradually warms, presses her hand, whispers all kinds of insidious remarks to her with wicked glances, permits himself so much that at last she is frightened and tries to restrain him. But to restrain Lensky

r restraint, to violent opposition, Lensky is least of all inclined to submit to be lectured by his "aristocratic son." His face, flushed by wine, becomes distorted, his eyes glisten. He is just about to say

lushed from the cold, a girl of perhaps seventeen years bu

ch trouble I had in getting to you! They would not let me in. What does it matter, now I am with you? And ho

f your coat and hat, Mascha, and now sit down and get your breath." Then he passes his hand over her soft dark hair. His touching tenderness has wiped away every trace from his face of the hateful expression which formerly disfigured it. "Yes, yes, this is my daughter, my foolish, igno

ungry; but I am thirsty." And she

Nikolai calls to him across the table: "Don't give her any c

t so much," s

e, Mascha," Lensky asks his daughter in F

l her white teeth show between her full child

s vexed at having made an unsuitable remark before his d

happy to be with you. See, it was this way: Since October, I have been with Aunt Sophie in Arcachon, because Aunt Barbara has not yet arranged her h

r, I begged.... 'It is impossible,' was the answer every time. Aunt Barbara could not receive me before the fifteenth, and then, besides, no one had time to accompany me to Paris--and all sorts of simpl

sky, in a tone which among all thos

terday evening I read that you had had a stroke of apoplexy. I was beside myself. They tried to talk me out of my anxiety, to convince me that if you were dangerously ill they would certainly have already telegraphed me. They were all very kind, and wished to telegraph to you

oung man," interru

. Then I left him and hurried into a coupé, and away we went. In my coupé sat an old man and an old woman. I thought they were married, b

ks the journalist i

d to force half of it upon me. When I refused, he offered me chocolate; he became very insolent. I cannot bear that, and threatened to sig

en spared these unpleasantnesses," sa

ver hear one. Then my young gentleman discovered me. You know the one from the station in Arcachon, who was walking up and down the platform smoking. He threw away his cigar and hurried to my help. I would like to change my coupé, I said, with a glance at my objectionable travelling companion. He understood, took me in another compartment, said I was evidently not accustomed to travelling alo

who saved my life on a bear hunt. I was i

the bear?"

--the ball might have hit me. 'Every one who will cannot be a William Tell,' said he, afterwar

s life? Then he must like you v

rcely k

g about you in it, papa. We found a notice which relieved me as to your health, and then after the worry I had had, my heart was so light that I cried. Arrived in Paris, he sent his servant with me because he di

said: "That is a matter of taste; for my daughter

hat a false effect the story of his pe

ehind Mascha's na?veté calculating

ey did not want to let me in here to you in the hotel. They said, 'Monsieur Lensky is dining now.' And yet I told them that I was your

ensky says,

k so strikingly like

ss. "Really like me?" Then, taking her by the chin and looking attentively at her face: "Well, yes; the

sembled you," whispers Mascha; and adds softly: "She al

with champagne; the other men talk together, murmur bad jokes in each other's ears, half aloud, with the evident intention to be heard. The champagne goes more and more to Mademoiselle

he immoderateness of the young woman. "

d throws it across the table at him. He catches it laughingly. Suddenly he feels something strange. His daughter's eyes rest upon him, astonish

e, fa

Why, to the Jeliagin--anyw

Jeliagin's? My carriage waits below. I have room for h

smissing Mascha with a kiss on the forehead, he turns to his guests

ren. "See that she is well wrapped up, Colia," says he to his son. "She is very delicate, and takes cold easily. She is, indeed, thoroughly like

"I understand that an anxious papa is frightened at such a m

en likes me; but her daughter, my Cousin Anna, is terrible!" says Mascha

cteristic motion of the head and shoulders, and

see you again. If only those horrid people had not been there! That bold girl who threw you t

uite in love with her," says the kind D

It is as if he could not look long enough on this sad, tender loveliness. "Oh, you angel, you! I will visit you to-mor