Netochka Nezvanova (Penguin ed.) by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Author:Fyodor Dostoyevsky [Dostoyevsky, Fyodor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141936291
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2006-06-29T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

My new life was as serene and peaceful as if I had settled among hermits… I lived for more than eight years with my new guardians, and in all that time I recall only a very few occasions when there were evening parties, dinners or gatherings of friends or relatives… With the exception of two or three people who visited from time to time, the musician B., who was a friend of the family, and the people who came to see Alexandra Mikhailovna’s husband, usually on business, no one ever came to the house.

Alexandra Mikhailovna’s husband was constantly occupied with his business affairs and with official duties, and could seldom manage to find even a little free time; when he did, it was divided equally between his family and his social life. Important connections, which he could not ignore, necessitated his making frequent appearances in society. There were widespread rumours about his boundless ambition; but as he held an extremely prominent position and had the reputation of being a serious and businesslike man who seemed to find luck and success everywhere, public opinion was far from denying him its approval. On the contrary, people always showed a special liking for him, which they never extended to his wife. Alexandra Mikhailovna lived in complete isolation, but she seemed to be glad of it. Her gentle nature seemed to have been created for seclusion.

She was devoted to me with her whole heart, loving me as if I had been her own daughter, and – with my eyes still moist from parting with Katya, and with an aching heart – I threw myself eagerly into the maternal embrace of my benefactress. From that time, my warm love for her was never interrupted. She was a mother to me, and a friend and a sister; she replaced the whole world for me, and she fostered my youth. Moreover, I soon perceived intuitively that her lot was by no means as rosy as might have been imagined at first sight from her quiet and apparently calm life, from her air of freedom, from the placid, bright smile which so often shone on her face. As I grew up, every day I discovered new things about the life of my benefactress, things which my heart slowly and painfully surmised, and alongside this sorrowful recognition my devotion to her grew greater and greater.

She had a gentle, frail nature. To look at her clear, peaceful features, it would have been hard to imagine that any worries could trouble her noble being. It was unthinkable that she could dislike anyone; compassion was always uppermost in her heart, prevailing even over repulsion. Yet she had very few close friends, and lived in almost complete solitude… She was by nature passionate and impressionable; it was as if she were constantly guarding her heart, not allowing it to forget itself, not even in dreams. Sometimes, even in her brightest moments, I noticed tears in her eyes as though a sudden, painful

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