From this time he was not often to be seen in the wooden house. He did
not even go down to the Volga, but devoured one volume after another.
Then he wrote verses, read them aloud, and intoxicated himself with the
sound of them; then gave all his time to drawing. He expected something,
he knew not what, from the future. He was filled with passion, with the
foretaste of pleasure; there rose before him a world of wonderful music,
marvellous pictures, and the murmur of enchanting life.

"I have been wanting to ask you," said Tatiana Markovna, "why you have
entered yourself for school again."

"Not the school, the University!"

"It's the same thing. You studied at your guardian's, and at the High
School, you can draw, play the piano. What more do you want to learn?
The students will only teach you to smoke a pipe, and in the end--which
God forbid--to drink wine. You should go into the Guards."

"Uncle says my means are not sufficient...."

"Not sufficient! What next?" She pointed to the fields and the village.
She counted out his resources in hundreds and thousands of roubles. She
had had no experience of army circles, had never lived in the capital,
and did not know how much money was needed.

"Your means insufficient! Why, I can send provision alone for a whole
regiment. No means! What does your Uncle do with the revenues?"

"I intend to be an artist, Granny."