"Every one despises me, and will always despise me," I thought to
myself. "The way is closed for me to friendship, love, and fame! All,
all is lost!"

Why had Woloda made signs to me which every one saw, yet which could in
no way help me? Why had that disgusting princess looked at my legs? Why
had Sonetchka--she was a darling, of course!--yet why, oh why, had she
smiled at that moment?

Why had Papa turned red and taken my hand? Can it be that he was ashamed
of me?

Oh, it was dreadful! Alas, if only Mamma had been there she would never
have blushed for her Nicolinka!

How on the instant that dear image led my imagination captive! I seemed
to see once more the meadow before our house, the tall lime-trees in the
garden, the clear pond where the ducks swain, the blue sky dappled with
white clouds, the sweet-smelling ricks of hay. How those memories--aye,
and many another quiet, beloved recollection--floated through my mind at
that time!




XXIII -- AFTER THE MAZURKA

At supper the young man whom I have mentioned seated himself beside
me at the children's table, and treated me with an amount of attention
which would have flattered my self-esteem had I been able, after the