Something stirred in my breast, and I felt remorse and shame for my silly conduct. I suddenly felt a wish to return and caress and fondle with all the strength of my soft, and not yet quite corrupt, soul this girl who loved me passionately, and who had been so grievously wronged by me; and to tell her that it was not I who was in fault, but my accursed pride that prevented me from living, breathing or advancing a step. Silly, conceited, foppish pride, full of vanity. Could I, a frivolous man, stretch out the hand of reconciliation, when I knew and saw that every one of my movements was watched by the eyes of the district gossips and the “ill-omened old women”? Sooner let them laugh her to scorn and cover her with derisive glances and smiles, than undeceive them of the “inflexibility” of my character and the pride, which silly women admired so much in me.
Just before, when I had spoken with Pavel Ivanovich about the reasons that had caused me suddenly to cease my visits to the Kalinins, I had not been candid and quite inaccurate.… I had held back the real reason; I had concealed it because I was ashamed of its triviality.… The cause was as tiny as a grain of dust.… It was this. On the occasion of my last visit, after I had given up Zorka to the coachman and was entering the Kalinin's house, the following phrase reached my ears:
“Nadenka, where are you?… Your betrothed has come!”
These words were spoken by her father, the Justice of the Peace, who probably did not think that I might hear him. But I heard him, and my self-love was aroused.
“I her betrothed?” I thought. “Who allowed you to call me her betrothed? On what basis?”
And something snapped in my breast. Pride rebelled within me, and I forgot all I had remembered when riding to Kalinin's.… I forgot that I had allured the young girl, and I myself was being attracted by her to such a degree that I was unable to pass a single evening without her company.… I forgot her lovely eyes that never left my memory either by night or day, her kind smile, her melodious voice.… I forgot the quiet summer evenings that will never return either for her or me.… Everything had crumbled away before the pressure of the devilish pride that had been aroused by the silly phrase of her simple-minded father.… I left the house in a rage, mounted Zorka, and galloped off, vowing to snub Kalinin, who without my permission had dared to consider me as his daughter's betrothed.
“Besides, Voznesensky is in love with her,” I thought, trying to justify my sudden departure, as I rode home. “He began to twirl around her before I did, and they were considered to be engaged when I made her acquaintance. I won't interfere with him!”
From that day I never put a foot in Kalinin's house, though there were moments when I suffered from longing to see Nadia, and my soul yearned for the renewal of the past.… But the whole district knew of the rupture, knew that I had “bolted” from marriage.… How could my pride make concessions?
Who can tell? If Kalinin had not said those words, and if I had not been so stupidly proud and touchy, perhaps I would not have had to look back, nor she to gaze at me with such eyes.… But even those eyes were better, even the feeling of being wronged and of reproach was better, than what I saw in those eyes a few months after our meeting in the Tenevo church! The grief that shone in the depths of those black eyes now was only the beginning of the terrible misfortune that, like the sudden onrush of a train, swept that girl from the earth. They were like little flowers compared to those berries that were then already ripening in order to pour terrible poison into her frail body and anguished heart.