The Created Legend

t. They were awaited there by their father Rameyev, the two Matovs-the student Piotr Dmitrievitch and the s

their day's adventure. Yet before this they used to be frank a

His nervousness reflected itself, in embarrassed smiles and awkward movements, in Misha. The latter was a well-nourished, rosy-cheeked lad, with

aughters' tardy appearance, but took his place at the partially extended table, which seemed small in the middle of the immense dining-room of dark, embellished

m. But he quickly extinguished this tiny spark of displeasure, smiled tenderly

d a little too

der to soften the hidden significance of his words

ide horseback as m

ned to the eldest

e you brought any

. They tried to take pa

. The young people in this house, as elsewhere, often talked and wrangled about what had happened and what was yet to be. For all their wrangling, they could not reach

ly troubled by problems of a religious-philosophical character. He thought that the mystical existence of human unities might be achieved only under the brilliant and all

ral strike is talked of. It is reported that

it was loud, merry, and childlike; and

ort of face the Headmaster

t, about the chaste play on the threshold of paradisian abodes. The words "strike" and "obstruction" came from his lips like the names

, rise

k. Rameyev smiled benignly. Miss Harrison, pretending not to have noticed the discordant incident, calmly

r-skelter from subject to subject. Such is said to be the Russian manner in argument. Perh

xclaime

And what wild, barbarous watchwords they have! 'Who is not with us, he is aga

ak of our banquet," said E

hat there is talking or doing here or there by certain gentry who imagine that they are making history. The real issue is in the clash of two classes, two interests, two cu

said rep

a word

ervous and aggrieve

on't l

it," said El

to the thoughts and moods of

l a reminiscence of a onc

r own eyes of the progress of the spiritual bossiak4 who is savagely indifferent to everything, who is hopelessly wild, malicious, and drunken for generations to come. He will crush everythi

es on Elisaveta. S

unjust to him. H

rom her place rather sooner than usual. Rameyev went to his own room to get his hour's nap. The young people went into

!" called

stioningly at Piotr, her graceful bare arms folded on her breast; suddenly her heart beat faster. What a power of bew

words to you, Elisa

ittle, lowered her he

t down so

e. The undulating distances lay before her in one broad panoramic sweep-a view intimate from childhood, and which never failed to awaken the same delightful emotion. She was looking no longer at the separate objects-Nature poured herself out like mus

wardness. Piotr was nervously breaking tw

you wish t

deeply agitated voice. She felt her own harshne

ietly and irresolutely, "but one and

n flare, then grew dull. She rose from h

been so intimate from childhood-yet it seems that we must part! Our

f intense impatience and vexation. Elisave

nificant. What I wish to say is that politics and all that separates us is only a light scum, a momentary froth on the broad surface of our lif

freedom," said Elisaveta qu

ring her wo

shamed to tell you I am jealous of your favour to any one; I am even jealous of this bloused workman, whose accomplice you would be if he had had

aveta spok

that I should become different. You do not love me, you are tempted by

hat she said, Piotr

to fall in love, to fetter your soul to any one else's. You are as free as man's first bride, you are as superb as his last wife

I?" said

wish to love. If you only understood how I love you, you woul

answered Elisaveta. "You do not love me. I don't b

gloomily and

alse, empty word freedom. You have

mstance, but the nature of my soul is freedom; its fire is consuming the chains of my material dependence. I know that we human beings will always be frail, poor, lonely; but a time will surely come when we shall pass through the purifying flame

ad and his eyes shone feverishly, but he could not utter a word-inertia gripped his

You are not speaking the truth when you say that you don't understand my love. You do know my lo

Her eyes lit up w

resolution, "it is not me you love-you love

le, dejected. Between the bushes a sun-yellow dress