“I do not know—I cannot say; I never thought of it before. Cannot you borrow some money?”
“No; and if I could I would not. No, no, Alexis, our circumstances have changed. It is the will of God. We are now poor, and we must toil for a subsistence. It is a grievous change—but it is no disgrace, at least. We are indeed worse off than the common laborer, for our muscles are not so strong as his; but we must give them strength by exercise. We have pride and long habit to contend with; but these we must conquer. It is weakness, it is folly, to yield to circumstances. If the ship leaks, we must take to the boat. Heaven may prosper our efforts, and bring us, after days of trial, to a safe harbor. But my greatest anxiety is for poor Kathinka.”
“Fear not for me,” said the lovely girl, rushing to her father and kneeling before him—“fear not for me!”
“Kathinka, I did not know you was in the room.”
“Nor was I till this moment; but the door was ajar, and I have heard all. Dear father—dear Alexis—fear not for me. I will be no burthen—I will aid you rather.”
“My noble child!” said the old man, as he placed his arms around the kneeling girl, and while his tears fell fast upon her brow, “you are indeed worthy of your mother, who, with all the softness of woman, had the energy of a hero. In early life, while contending with difficulties in my business, she was ever my helper and supporter. In every day of darkness, she was my guiding-star. She has indeed bequeathed her spirit to me in you, Kathinka.”
“My dear father, this is indeed most kind, and I will endeavor to make good the opinion you entertain of me. See! I have already begun my work. Do you observe this collar? I have foreseen difficulties, and I have wrought this that I may sell it and get money by it.”
“Indeed!” said Pultova, “you are a brave girl;—and who put this into your head?”
“I do not know—I thought of it myself, I believe.”
“And who do you think will buy this collar, here at Tobolsk? Who can pay money for such finery?”