Chapter 45 - Page 2

that he had always felt assured of my good sense,
cleverness, and sensibility, but that hitherto he had hesitated
to take this step until he should have learned precisely how I
was getting on. Next he asked me some questions about YOU; saying
that he had heard of you as a man of good principle, and that
since he was unwilling to remain your debtor, would a sum of five
hundred roubles repay you for all you had done for me? To this I
replied that your services to myself had been such as could never
be requited with money; whereupon, he exclaimed that I was
talking rubbish and nonsense; that evidently I was still young
enough to read poetry; that romances of this kind were the
undoing of young girls, that books only corrupted morality, and
that, for his part, he could not abide them. "You ought to live
as long as I have done," he added, "and THEN you will see what
men can be."

With that he requested me to give his proposal my favourable
consideration--saying that he would not like me to take such an
important step unguardedly, since want of thought and impetuosity
often spelt ruin to youthful inexperience, but that he hoped to
receive an answer in the affirmative. "Otherwise," said he, "I
shall have no choice but to marry a certain merchant's daughter
in Moscow, in order that I may keep my vow to deprive my nephew
of the inheritance.--Then he pressed five hundred roubles into my
hand--to buy myself some bonbons, as he phrased it--and wound up
by saying that in the country I should grow as fat as a doughnut
or a cheese rolled in butter; that at the present moment he was
extremely busy; and that, deeply engaged in business though he
had been all day, he had snatched the present opportunity of
paying me a visit. At length he departed.

For a long time I sat plunged in reflection. Great though my
distress of mind was, I soon arrived at a decision.... My friend,
I am going to marry this man; I have no choice but to accept his
proposal. If anyone could save me from this squalor, and restore
to me my good name, and avert from me future poverty and want and
misfortune, he is the man to do it. What else have I to look for
from the future? What more am I to ask of fate? Thedora declares
that one need NEVER lose one's happiness; but what, I ask HER,
can be called happiness under such circumstances as mine? At all
events I see no other road open, dear friend. I see nothing else
to be done. I have worked until I have ruined my health. I cannot
go on working forever. Shall I go out into the world? Nay; I am
worn to a shadow with grief, and become good for nothing. Sickly
by nature, I should merely be a burden upon other folks. Of
course this marriage will not bring me paradise, but what else