Chapter 22 - Page 2

all events he loved to repeat the expression,
and it somehow suited him.)

"Only, I am afraid," he went on quietly, after thus annihilating
all such men as were foolish enough to admire mere beauty, "I am
afraid that you will not understand or realise her quickly. She
is modest, even secretive, and by no means fond of exhibiting her
beautiful and surprising qualities. Now, my mother--who, as you
will see, is a noble, sensible woman--has known Lubov Sergievna,
for many years; yet even to this day she does not properly
understand her. Shall I tell you why I was out of temper last
evening when you were questioning me? Well, you must know that
the day before yesterday Lubov asked me to accompany her to Ivan
Yakovlevitch's (you have heard of him, I suppose? the fellow who
seems to be mad, but who, in reality, is a very remarkable man).
Well, Lubov is extremely religious, and understands Ivan
Yakovlevitch to the full. She often goes to see him, and
converses with him, and gives him money for the poor--money which
she has earned herself. She is a marvellous woman, as you will
see. Well, I went with her to Ivan's, and felt very grateful to
her for having afforded me the opportunity of exchanging a word
with so remarkable a man; but my mother could not understand our
action at all, and discerned in it only superstition.
Consequently, last night she and I quarrelled for the first time
in our lives. A very bitter one it was, too," he concluded, with
a convulsive shrug of his shoulders, as though the mention of it
recalled the feelings which he had then experienced.

"And what are your intentions about it all?" I inquired, to
divert him from such a disagreeable recollection. "That is to
say, how do you imagine it is going to turn out? Do you ever
speak to her about the future, or about how your love or
friendship are going to end?"

"Do you mean, do I intend to marry her eventually?" he inquired,
in his turn, with a renewed blush, but turning himself round and
looking me boldly in the face.

"Yes, certainly," I replied as I settled myself down. "We are
both of us grown-up, as well as friends, so we may as well
discuss our future life as we drive along. No one could very well
overlook or overhear us now."

"Why should I NOT marry her?" he went on in response to my
reassuring reply. "It is my aim--as it should be the aim of every
honourable man--to be as good and as happy as possible; and with
her, if she should still be willing when I have become more
independent, I should be happier and better than with the
greatest beauty in the world."

Absorbed in such conversation, we hardly