Boris Lensky

pite of its being merely the beginning of December, already many of the stude

the fever of acute striving fo

hich she is unusually enthusiastic. The model is none other than the brown-curled child whose acquaintance she recently made on the sidewalk when Nikolai watche

a Robbia. What is it?" says she, opening the door of her studio. A memorable sight meets her eyes then. In the middle of the studio, her little hands clutching

he floor," says Sophie, in her wonderfully phlegmatic manner, and with that she

?" says Mascha, holding her hands over

y, while she goes up to Mascha. "Throw your stupid skull in the

er that at seventeen. It is very hard t

sses her like a mother who would calm an excited child. "So, dear heart,

is very good to you," now

sister. He bows, and turning to Mascha once more, he says: "And now te

ttle personality, she says: "I am not sorry. You would not have been so kind to me if I had been polite, would you?" And with that she lays her arm somewhat shyly arou

st have a little patience with her i

the child something else to think of," say

himself: "What has she against me?" Nevertheless, she warms somewhat in

a true gentleman. He talks well, without tasteless chattering. Nita listens to him with interest, asks him all kinds of

e is quiet for the most part, listens, comfortably and idly reclining in her easy-chair, to t

e r?le of silent listener. Every moment her trilling, childish laugh, or some strange little remark, interrupts Nita and Ni

s at times a little bit wild; she is like a little brook, long held captive by winter, which, after a little bit of sunshine has set it free, now doubly l

ister," Nita hereupon answers him. "I shall be gla

egged the uncle from whose house she had fled to pardon her over-haste, Sergei left unanswered. To Nikolai's note which, joined in his sister's request, tried to excuse Mascha's fault a little, and asked whether he might, after his father had left Paris, again bring the child

ent a stay in an ordinarily strict school seemed to him decidedly mor

ess for so long that Lensky, in spite of all his son's representations, gave way to her. He could not bear to see the little one unhappy. He formally begged her pardon, with caresse

r the little tear intermezzo, she had never been so happy as in the three w

tiful floral tributes which enthusiasts sent him, and besides that, indulged her with imprudent, immoderate generosity. Again and again

r, after she had greeted him, and handed her a package done up in

miling expectation, like a great child that every day rejoices in playing the same trick--a sparkle of two dark blue eyes, a gay, penetrating cry of joy, and two soft, warm arms ar

aid she once, and looked at him in ast

ever dou

s only for ordinary people like we others; but a great genius like you only tolerates on

ured he, and kissed each separate dim

er, polishing and putting everything to rights. He never saw Anna at such an early hour; at most, he heard her sharp voice wounding her mother by some sharp,

ckly aunt; and what a capable, vigorous assistance! Her firm young fingers arranged things quite differently from Barbara's trembling hands. She climbed up on the furniture to remove cobwebs from the pictur

iagin learned to love her. It would be hard not to love this quick, lively, imp

owing with happy, tender young life, on the other hand, one could hardly imagine anyt

rougher, and less vaguely than formerly--rougher than could be understood in a civilized man--on the other hand

rated. Nikolai, who frequently accompanied him to

n some pair of hysterical enthusiasts, to whom he permitted himself to say all that was coarse and familiar

at weary and sad man, a man with a hoarse but soft and rather low voice, a man who spoke little,

of her. The wild fire with which he enslaved his concert audiences was perhaps lacking, but how tender, how delicate,

d out a hearty word of praise to her in the midst of his p

reatest patience, yes, with true pleasure. He made little conscientious correcti

violin, and the 'cello. Mascha, on the contrary, was incredibly talented in music. What others attained by weary study, she had

d in each other,

with her aunt, in an especially good place, which was reserved for her, and listened attentively to every tone. In the hall there was no one--no, not even among the many professional violinists who envied him his triumphs--who had more plainly rem

another with the same madly expressed animation, until at length Mascha persuaded herself that she mu