When I fell ill, the B.’s, knowing me to be alone and uncared for, brought me to their house. During my stay with them, I acquired the conviction that my darling little girls did not love me, especially the eldest, who interested me even more than her three sisters.... The dreams I told you of have vanished!
It was a grief to me, for, apart from my scientific interests, I cherished them more than anything. I have no acquaintances and do not require any, but I long to have some one with me to whom I could become attached and who could share my pleasures and leisure.
My grief would have been greater still if I had not seen that Ludmilla Fédorovitch, whom I mentioned to you this summer, showed me much sympathy in all my troubles.
We were already very good friends, and have now drawn nearer together; who knows? perhaps the 800 roubles which are going to be added to my salary will be very useful.
I will keep you informed of everything, dear Mother, for I am sure of your sympathy; I love you better than the whole world and I have full confidence in you.
Au revoir, dear Mother, I kiss your hands.—Your
Elie Metchnikoff.
Mlle. Fédorovitch became ill in her turn; the sympathy which Elie showed her on this occasion brought them still nearer to each other, and he soon decided to marry her. He informed his mother of this; much alarmed, she tried to dissuade him, for she feared that by marrying a girl in delicate health, her son would be assuming too heavy a task in his difficult circumstances.
He answered as follows:
I received your letter to-day, dear Mother. It grieves me very much. My project inspires you with doubt, you counsel prudence and, though you say you believe me to be reasonable, yet you fear that I am acting on an impulse. If I really am reasonable, why fear a blind impulse? On the other hand, if I am blindly carried away, it is not likely that I shall listen to reason.