er full
of reproaches and entreaties to go to the arbour, addressing me as
"thou." At one o'clock I get a second letter, and at two, a third
. . . . I must go. . . . But before going I must consider what I am
to say to her. I will behave like a gentleman.

To begin with, I will tell her that she is mistaken in supposing
that I am in love with her. That's a thing one does not say to a
lady as a rule, though. To tell a lady that one's not in love with
her, is almost as rude as to tell an author he can't write.

The best thing will be to explain my views of marriage.

I put on my winter overcoat, take an umbrella, and walk to the
arbour.

Knowing the hastiness of my temper, I am afraid I may be led into
speaking too strongly; I will try to restrain myself.

I find Nadenka still waiting for me. She is pale and in tears. On
seeing me she utters a cry of joy, flings herself on my neck, and
says:

"At last! You are trying my patience. . . . Listen, I have not slept
all night. . . . I have been thinking and thinking. . . . I believe
that when I come to know you better I shall learn to love you. . . ."

I sit down, and begin to unfold my views of marriage. To begin with,
to clear the ground of digressions and to be as brief as possible,
I open with a short historical survey. I speak of marriage in ancient
Egypt and India, then pass to more recent times, a few ideas from
Schopenhauer. Mashenka listens attentively, but all of a sudden,
through some strange incoherence of ideas, thinks fit to interrupt
me:

"Nicolas, kiss me!" she says.

I am embarrassed and don't know what to say to her. She repeats her
request. There seems no avoiding it. I get up and bend over her
long face, feeling as I do so just as I did in my childhood when I
was lifted up to kiss my grandmother in her coffin. Not content
with the kiss, Mashenka leaps up and impulsively embraces me. At
that instant, Mashenka's _maman_ appears in the doorway of the
arbour. . . . She makes a face as though in alarm, and saying "sh-sh"
to someone with her, vanishes like Mephistopheles through the
trapdoor.

Confused and enraged, I return to our villa. At home I find Varenka's
_maman_ embracing my _maman_ with tears in her eyes. And my _maman_
weeps and says:

"I always hoped for it!"

And then, if you please, Nadenka's _maman_ comes up to me, embraces
me, and says:

"May God bless you! . . . Mind you love her well. . . . Remember
the sacrifice she is making