Chapter 38

THE WORLD

As regards those worldly delights to which I had intended, on
entering the University, to surrender myself in imitation of my
brother, I underwent a complete disillusionment that winter.
Woloda danced a great deal, and Papa also went to balls with his
young wife, but I appeared to be thought either too young or
unfitted for such delights, and no one invited me to the houses
where balls were being given. Yet, in spite of my vow of
frankness with Dimitri, I never told him (nor any one else) how
much I should have liked to go to those dances, and how I felt
hurt at being forgotten and (apparently) taken for the
philosopher that I pretended to be.

Nevertheless, a reception was to be given that winter at the
Princess Kornakoff's, and to it she sent us personal invitations--
to myself among the rest! Consequently, I was to attend my first
ball. Before starting, Woloda came into my room to see how I was
dressing myself--an act on his part which greatly surprised me and
took me aback. In my opinion (it must be understood) solicitude
about one's dress was a shameful thing, and should be kept under,
but he seemed to think it a thing so natural and necessary that
he said outright that he was afraid I should be put out of
countenance on that score. Accordingly, he bid me don my patent
leather boots, and was horrified to find that I wanted to put on
gloves of peau de chamois. Next, he adjusted my watch-chain in a
particular manner, and carried me off to a hairdresser's near the
Kuznetski Bridge to have my locks coiffured. That done, he
withdrew to a little distance and surveyed me.

"Yes, he looks right enough now" said he to the hairdresser.
"Only--couldn't you smooth those tufts of his in front a little?"
Yet, for all that Monsieur Charles treated my forelocks with one
essence and another, they persisted in rising up again when ever
I put on my hat. In fact, my curled and tonsured figure seemed to
me to look far worse than it had done before. My only hope of
salvation lay in an affectation of untidiness. Only in that guise
would my exterior resemble anything at all. Woloda, apparently,
was of the same opinion, for he begged me to undo the curls, and
when I had done so and still looked unpresentable, he ceased to
regard me at all, but throughout the drive to the Kornakoffs
remained silent and depressed.

Nevertheless, I entered the Kornakoffs' mansion boldly enough, and
it was only when the Princess had invited me to dance, and I, for
some reason or another (though I had driven there with no other
thought in my head than to dance well), had replied that I never
indulged in that pastime, that I began to blush, and, left
solitary among a crowd of