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Sophie Kovalevsky.
Bust by Walter Runeberg, modelled from a Photograph.

SONIA
KOVALEVSKY

Biography and Autobiography
I. mEMOI'H^

BY A. С LEFFLER (EDGREN)
DUCHESSA DI CAJANELLO

II. \EMINISCENCES

OF CHILDHOOD

WRITTEN BY HERSELF

Translated into English by
LOUISE VON COSSEL

LONDON : WALTER SCOTT, LTD.
PATERNOSTER SQUARE

1895

г\

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Ь , О

SONIA KOVALEVSKY

WHAT I KNOW ABOUT HER FROM

PERSONAL ACQUAINTANCE

AND WHAT SHE TOLD ME ABOUT HERSELF

BY

ANNA CARLOTTA LEFFLER

DUCHESS OF CAJANELLO

INTRODUCTION.

Immediately after having received the
news of Sonia Kovalevsky's sudden and
unexpected death, the thought struck me,
that it was my duty to continue her
Memoirs of her Childhood, published
under the title, " Life in Russia (The
Sisters Rajevsky)." A duty for several
reasons ; first, because, anticipating that
she would die young, and that I should
survive her, she had more than once made
me promise to write her biography.

Excessively self-reflecting and self-ana-
lysing as she was, she had the habit of
brooding over all her feelings, thoughts and
actions, and during the three or four years
we lived together, in almost daily mter-
course, she communicated all these thoug-hts

4 INTRODUCTION

to me, trying to form her observations into
a regular psychological system. This
exaggerated tendency to self-contemplation
frequently, though unconsciously, led her
to disfigure facts. Sharp and merciless
as her self-analysis might be, it was some-
times disturbed by a natural inclination to
idealising. So the picture she gave differed
in several respects from that which others
saw.

She judged herself sometimes much more
severely, sometimes much more leniently,
than others did.

Had she been permitted to carry out
her intention of writing the history of her
whole life, this image, painted by herself,
would have corresponded with the ideas
she expressed during her long and frequent
psychological conversations with me.

As, unfortunately, this work remained un-
written, which undoubtedly would have
been one of the most important biographies
in the world's literature, and as it became
my lot to draw the feeble outlines of this

INTRODUCTION 5

soul's history, I felt instinctively that the
only possible way for me to carry out the
task was, so to say, to work under her
suggestion, in trying to identify myself
with her, as I used to do while she was
alive ; to become her second self, — as she
often called me, — and to reproduce as far
as possible the image she had given me of
herself.

However, I allowed more than a year to
pass before I could make up my mind to
publish these memoirs, which I began to
write shortly after her death. During this
time I tried to assist my memory by con-
versation and correspondence with as many
of her friends in different countries as I
could manage to reach, in order to give a
correct statement of the outward events of
her life, which she has told me so often.
Out of this correspondence I have quoted
everything that seemed to throw a true
light on her character, — true, in so far as it
would agree with her own conception.

So my readers will see it is not a bio-

6 INTRODUCTION

graphy true in the objective sense of the
word that I am presenting here.

By the by, what is objective truth in
speaking of the analysis of the soul ?

Many will disagree with my views, and
put a very different interpretation on some
of Sonia's feelings and actions, but from
my standpoint this does not affect me. All
the facts I relate are essentially true, so far
as I have been capable of verifying them.
In this respect I have not followed Sonia's
own suggestions, for with regard to facts
she was frequently most fantastic.

When, a year ago, I met Henrik Ibsen
in Christlania, and told him that I was
writing a biography of Sonia Kovalevsky,
he said :

4 s it a biography in the true sense of
the word, or a poetic image, you are going
to give ? '

* It is,' I answered, 'her own poem about
herself, seen with my eyes, which I mean
to write.'

'Quite right,' he said, 'the subject must

INTRODUCTION 7

be treated poetically.' These words en-
couraged me, and confirmed my view of
the task I had undertaken.

Let others give a realistic description if
they can ; I only wish to render my in-
dividual conception of her own strongly
individual analysis of herself.

The Authoress.
Naples, 1892.

MAIDEN-DREAMS. MARRIAGE-
CEREMONY

When Sonla"* was about seventeen, her family
spent a winter in St Petersburg.

About this time the intelligent part of the
young generation in Russia was stirred by a
lively movement, particularly remarkable in the
young girls, a movement for promoting mental
liberty, development and progress in their native
country.

These aspirations were not nihilistic, scarcely
even political in their tendency. They arose from
a craving for knowledge and light ; a craving
which had spread so widely, that hundreds of
girls of the best families went out to study at
foreign universities. As the parents generally
opposed this spirit in their daughters, the young
women had found a very peculiar and character-

* Diminutive of Sophia.

lO SONIA KOVALEVSKY

istic way out of the difficulty, in contracting
marriages with young men who shared their
views. Once married, they escaped from the
parental authority, and were at liberty to go
abroad. Many of the female students in Zurich,
who were afterwards called home by an imperial
ukase on suspicion of nihilism, were married in
this way, to men who, after having taken them
away from their homes and escorted them to
some university, left them there, free and alone,
according to mutual agreement.

Now this kind of union was becoming so
popular among the friends with whom Sonia
and her sister used to associate in St Petersburg,
that they came to look upon it as much more
ideal than the ordinary marriage-tie between a
man and a woman, who in a love-match saw
only the satisfaction of individual feelings and
sensations, in a word, of self-love.

To these young enthusiasts, personal happiness
was a secondary consideration, the sacrifice of
self for a common cause being the only great
and noble motive. To study, to improve their
minds, and devote whatever power they possessed
to the benefit of their beloved country, helping
it in its hard struggle for freedom, in its progress
from darkness and oppression to light and liberty

SONIA KOVALEVSKY II

— this was the idea which inspired the hearts
of these young daughters of aristocratic families.
Their parents, who had never dreamt of educat-
ing them for anything but their destination as
ladies and married women, naturally took an
uncompromising and hostile position at these
signs of independence and rebellion, which now
and then burst through the mysterious reticence
usually observed by the young in presence of
their elders.

' What a happy time ! ' Sonia used to exclaim
when speaking of this period of her life. ' We
were so exalted by all these new ideas, so
convinced, that the present state of society could
not last long, that the glorious time of liberty
and general knowledge was quite near, quite
certain. And then, what delight in the fellow-
ship of these aspirations ! No sooner would two
or three young people meet at a party of elders,
where they had no right to make themselves
heard, than they understood one another imme-
diately by a look, a sigh, an intonation of the voice,
and felt that they belonged to one brotherhood.

*What a secret happiness to feel near this
young man or woman, whom perhaps you had
never seen before, with whom you had scarcely
exchanged a few commonplace words, yet who,

12 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

you knew, was one of the flock, who shared
your own ideas and hopes, your own readiness
to sacrifice self to the common cause/

In the society of friends who gathered round
Aniuta as their centre, nobody as yet paid any
attention to Sonia ; she was six years younger
than her sister, and quite a child in appearance.
Aniuta allowed her to be present, because she
was fond of the little girl, with her green-
gooseberry eyes, that would beam with delight
at every warm and enthusiastic word spoken
by one of her elders, and who, besides, was never
intrusive, but kept modestly in the background,
behind her older and more brilliant sister.

Sonia thoroughly admired Aniuta, whom she
considered in every respect her superior, in beauty,
grace, talents and intelligence. But her admira-
tion was mixed with a considerable amount of
jealousy, the kind which yearns to equal its
object, never to depreciate or lower it. This
tendency, which Sonia herself mentions in the
recollections of her childhood, was characteristic
of her throughout life. She was always inclined
to overrate in others the qualities she wished to
possess herself, and to repine at the lack of
them ; and she was particularly impressed by
beauty and pleasant manners. In these advan-

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 13

tages her sister seems to have surpassed her
considerably, and so Sonia dreamt of eclipsing
her on another ground. From her earliest years
she had been commended for her cleverness, and
her natural love of study and thirst of knowledge
were now stimulated by her ambition, and by
the encouragement of her teacher in mathematics.
She revealed the most remarkably quick under-
standing, and such a wealth of ideas that her natural
gift for scientific work seemed beyond doubt
But her father, whose consent to this kind of
study, so unusual for a young girl, had only
been given by the persuasion of an old friend
of his, who was himself a distinguished scholar,
withdrew his approval on the first suspicion that
his daughter meant to cultivate these studies in
real earnest. Her first timid hints that she
would like to go away and study at a foreign
university, were as badly received as the discovery
some years previously of Aniuta's authorship — in
other words, as a criminal tendency to go astray.
In fact, the young girls of good families, who
had carried out similar plans, were looked upon
as nothing less than adventuresses, who brought
shame and grief on their parents.

Thus these two antagonistic currents flowed
on side by side in this aristocratic home : the

14 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

hidden, but rebellious and passionate longing for
freedom, and the open, honest paternal tyranny,
which was convinced of its own legitimacy and
superiority, trying to stop and keep under control,
to tame and regulate this strange and misunder-
stood power.

At last Aniuta and one of her friends took
a bold resolution. One of them — no matter who
— was to contract one of these ideal marriages,
which would relieve both ; for if one of them
married, they thought the other would be allowed
to go abroad with her friend. In this way the
journey could scandalise nobody, it would look
like a pleasure trip. Sonia would most likely
be permitted to join the others, for she was her
sister's inseparable shadow, and it was quite out
of the question for one sister to travel without
the other.

This plan once settled, the next point was to
find the right man to help in carrying it out.
Aniuta and Inez searched among their acquaint-
ances, and their choice fell upon a young pro-
fessor at the university, whom they knew but
slightly, but of whose honesty and enthusiasm
they felt convinced. So one day all three
girls — Sonia as usual bringing up the rear —
started on their visit to the professor's house.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 5

He was at work in his study when the servant
announced the three young ladies, whose visit
surprised him, as they did not at all belong to
his intimate circle. He rose politely and offered
them seats ; they sat down, all three on a long
sofa, and there was a moment's awkward silence.

The professor was sitting in his rocking-chair,
opposite to the young girls, looking at each of
them in turn : there was Aniuta, tall, slender, and
fair, with her peculiar subtle grace in every
movement, her large, radiant, dark blue eyes,
which she fixed on him openly, though with a
certain hesitation ; then Inez, dark, rather square-
built, and somewhat stout, her aquiline nose,
hard and clear eyes, looking rather bold; and
here was Sonia, with her rich curly hair, her pure
regular features, her child-like innocent forehead,
and peculiar passionately inquisitive and listening
eyes.

At last Aniuta spoke as had been agreed, and
without the slightest reluctance put the question :
' Whether the professor might feel inclined to " re-
lease " them by entering on a sham marriage with
one of them, take them to some university in
Germany or Switzerland, and then leave them .? '

In another country, and under other circum-
stances, a young man would scarcely have re-

I б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

ceived such a question from the mouth of a
pretty young girl without putting into his answer
a Httle gallantry or a tinge of irony. But in this
case the man was equal to the situation — so far
Aniuta had not been mistaken in her choice —
and he answered very seriously and coolly, that
he did not feel in the least disposed to accept
this proposal.

And what about the young girls ? You think,
perhaps, they felt humiliated by this refusal ? By
no means. Their feminine pride had nothing
whatever to do with this affair, there had been
no idea of pleasing the young man. They re-
ceived his refusal as calmly as anybody would
have received the answer of some one whom he
had asked to be his travelling companion, and
who had replied ' no ' instead of * yes.'

The three young ladies rose and took leave; the
professor shook hands with them at the door, and
they did not see each other again for many years.
They had not the slightest fear that he would
ever abuse their trust, for they knew that he be-
longed to the sacred alliance, whose members
could not think of betraying each other. About
fifteen years later, when Sonia Kovalevsky
stood at the height of her fame, she one day, at
a party in St Petersburg, met this man, and

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I/

they joked together about the unsuccessful pro-
posal.

One of Aniuta's friends about this time com-
mitted the mean action of marrying for love ;
how they despised and pitied her ! Sonia par-
ticularly felt her heart swell with indignation
that anybody could thus forsake all ideals. And
the young wife herself felt thoroughly ashamed
in presence of her friends, as if she had fallen
deeply. She never dared speak to them about
her matrimonial happiness, and she forbade her
husband ever to caress her in their presence.

Then, all of a sudden, something quite unex-
pected happened to Sonia.

Aniuta and Inez, far from being discouraged
by their first failure, abode by their plan and
chose another young man for their deliverer.
He was only an undergraduate, but exceedingly
clever, and wished to go to Germany himself in
pursuit of his studies. He was of good family,
and generally considered very promising ; so it
seemed probable that the respective parents,
whether Aniuta's or Inez's, would have no seri-
ous objection to the union. This time the pro-
posal was made in a less solemn way ; Aniuta,
profiting by an opportunity, when she met him
in the house of mutual friends, put the question

1 8 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

to him in the course of their conversation. He
answered, quite unexpectedly, that he felt very-
much inclined to enter upon the scheme, only
with this change in the programme, that he
wished Sonia for his wife.

This, however, caused much anxiety to the
three allies ; how could they possibly persuade
the father to give away this child, especially as
her six-year-older sister was still unmarried? If
an acceptable ' parti ' for the eldest daughter
had been proposed, they knew quite well that
her father would not have been adverse to it.
Indeed, Aniuta gave him much anxiety through
her fanciful, unaccountable character, and she
was of an age when a young girl ought to marry.
No doubt Kovalevsky was rather young, but his
prospects seemed very hopeful, and he would
not have been at all unwelcome as a suitor to
the elder daughter. But Sonia ! No. The offer
was refused absolutely and without appeal, and
the famil}- prepared at once to return to
Palibino.

What was to be done ? To go back into the
country, to give up all hope, to say good-bye to
all interests which had become the essence of
life to the young girls — was like going into
prison without feeling that they were martyrs

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 9

for a great cause. It would have been easier to
suffer real imprisonment for their ideals than
such unpoetic exile.

In this dilemma, Sonia, usually so shy, took a
great and decisive step. The tender little girl,
who could scarcely bear an unkind look, a dis-
approving word from those she loved, became
like steel at this critical moment. Naturally
very sensitive and affectionate, fond of caresses
like a dog that clings fondly to any one who in-
vites it by a kind glance, when once her spirit of
resistance was roused, she could show an un-
bending energy and hardness ; regardless of all
feeling, she could deeply wound the very person
whom, a moment before, she had overwhelmed
with marks of the tenderest affection. There
was in her an intensity of will-power, a consum-
ing energy, even where her feelings were not
concerned at all. Now her mind was made up
to get out, away from home, to continue her
studies — cost what it might.

There was to be a family dinner-party. In
the morning her mother was out shopping, her
father at his club, and her governess helping the
maid to decorate the drawing-room. The girls
were alone in their room, their fine new dresses
lying ready to put on for dinner.

20 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

They were never allowed to go out of the
house unattended ; but to-day Sonia, profiting by
the general stir and bustle, stole out alone.
Aniuta, who was in the plot, went down stairs
with her, and kept watch at the gate till her
sister was out of sight, after which she returned
to her own room in anxious expectation, and
began putting on her light blue dress.

It was dusk already, and the first gas-lamps
were lighted.

Sonia had pulled down her veil, and tied her
bashlik close round her cheeks ; she walked with
long strides down the broad streets, which at
this hour were almost empty — the first time she
found herself there alone. Her pulses were
hammering with the extreme excitement which
makes grand enterprises so attractive to young,
romantically-inclined hearts. She felt herself the
heroine of a romance which was going to be
acted ; she, little Sonia, who had hitherto been
the shadow of her sister. Still, this romance was
very different from the usual love stories, which
she despised.

It was not to a lovers' tryst she went with her
firm, quick, rhythmical step ; it was not the ex-
citement of lo\'e which made her heart beat so
quickly, as, holding her breath, madly afraid of

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 21

the darkness, like a child, she hurried up the
unlighted stairs to the third floor of a gloomy
house in a by-street. She gave three little quick
nervous knocks at a door, which was so instantly
opened, that evidently the young man who now
received her must have been watching for her
arrival. He immediately led her into a modest
study, where books were piled upon tables and
chairs, and where a shaky sofa had been cleared
for the occasion, that she might find a place to
sit down.

It must be confessed that the young man did
not look like a hero of romance. His bristling
red beard, and too big nose, made him appear
ugly at first sight ; but when you caught a glance
from his deep dark blue eyes, you met an ex-
pression so intelligent, kind, and benevolent, that
you could not help feeling attracted. Towards
the young girl who had trusted him in such a
peculiar way, his manners were entirely those of
an elder brother.

The young couple were now waiting in great
excitement, listening intently for quick angry
steps in the passage, and more than once Sonia
started from the sofa, crimson and white with
emotion, when she thought somebody was
coming.

22 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

In the mean time her parents had come home,
but they had only just time to dress before the
guests arrived, so they did not notice their
youngest daughter's absence till all were
gathered in the dining-room, ready to sit down
to table.

' Where is Sonia ? ' they both at once asked
Aniuta, who looked quite pale ; at this moment
she appeared even taller and more self-conscious
than usual, with an expression of defiance, mixed
with excitement and expectation.

* Sonia has gone out/ she answered in a low
voice, trying in vain to prevent its vibration, and
evading her father's eye.

' Gone out ! What do you mean ? With
whom ? '

*By herself There is a note on her toilet-
table.'

A servant was sent at once to fetch the note ;
the party sat down to dinner in deep silence.

Sonia had dealt her blow better than she pro-
bably knew herself, more cruelly than she could
have dreamed of In her childish spite, with the
heedless selfishness of youth, which has no mercy,
because it does not realise the pain it gives, she
had hurt her father in his tenderest point.

In presence of all his relations this proud man

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 23

had to swallow his humiliation at his daughter's
scandal. She had only written these words : —

* Father, forgive me, I am with Woldemar,
and I ask you not to oppose our marriage any
longer/

Ivan Sergejevitsch read these lines in silence,
then, muttering an excuse, he rose from table.

Ten minutes later, Sonia and her companion,
who were listening with increasing anxiety,
heard the angry steps they expected ; the un-
locked door was flung open without a knock, and
General Krukovsky stood before his trembling
daughter.

Towards the close of the dinner father and
daughter entered the dining-room together,
followed by Woldemar Kovalevsky. Ivan Ser-
gejevitsch said with trembling voice :

' Allow me to introduce to you the future
husband of my daughter Sonia.'

II

AT THE UNIVERSITY

This was the dramatic introduction to Sonia's
strange wedded life, according to her own state-
ment. Her parents forgave her, and shortly
after — in October 1868 — the marriage was cele-
brated at Palibino.

The young couple started for St Petersburg,
and here Kovalevsky immediately introduced
his wife to the political circles which had been
the object of her ardent longings. A friend who
became very intimate with her afterwards, gives
the following description of her appearance at
this time :

' Amongst all these political ladies who were
more or less worn with life's cares and struggles,
she seemed quite a phenomenon ; and because
of her childlike appearance she got the pet name
of " The little sparrow." '

She was only just eighteen, but looked much

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 2$

younger. She was of small and slender stature,
though her face was rather full ; she had short,
curly chestnut hair, lively features, sparkling eyes
which continually changed their expression,
altogether a striking mixture of childlike naivete
and depth of thought. She attracted everybody
by the unconscious grace which distinguished
her at this period of her life ; old and young,
men and women, all were charmed. Most
natural in her manners, without a shadow
of coquetry, she did not seem to have any
idea of the general homage of which she was
the object. In fact, she paid no attention at all
to her appearance, or to her dress, which was
as plain as possible, even a little untidy — a short-
coming which she never corrected. Her friend
says : ' I remember one day, during a most
animated conversation, she kept fumbling with
the trimming of her left sleeve, of which some
stitches were undone, and after having pulled it
off altogether, she threw it on the floor, as if
pleased to get rid of it.'

The young couple spent six months in St
Petersburg, and then went to Heidelberg, where
Sonia wished to study mathematics, and her
husband geology. They entered their names as
students at the university, and afterwards went

2б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

to England for their summer vacation. There
Sonia had the opportunity of making the
acquaintance of many celebrities : George Eliot,
Darwin, Spencer, Huxley, etc.

In George Eliot's diary, published in her
biography by Mr J. W. Cross, there is a note
dated October 5th, 1869:

* On Sunday, an interesting Russian pair came
to see us — M. and Madame Kovilevsky {sic) :
she, a pretty creature, with charming modest
voice and speech, who is studying mathematics
(by allowance through the aid of Kirchhoff) at
Heidelberg ; he, amiable and intelligent, study-
ing the concrete sciences apparently — especially
geology : and about to go to Vienna for six
months for this purpose, leaving his wife at
Heidelberg!' {George Eliofs Life, vol. iii. p. loi.)

This plan, however, was not immediately
carried out, and Woldemar spent a term in
Heidelberg with his wife. Their life at that time
is described in the following way by the friend 1
have mentioned, who, through Sonia's interven-
tion, had obtained permission from her parents
to study with her :

' Some days after my arrival in Heidelberg, in
October 1869, Sonia returned from England with
her husband. She seemed auite happy, and very

SON ТА KOVALEVSKY 2/

pleased with her journey. Fresh and health)-,
with rosy cheeks, she was as charming as when I
saw her first ; but there was even more Hfe and
fire in her eyes, she felt renewed energy to
take up and continue her recently commenced
studies.

' However, this serious occupation did not pre-
vent her from enjoying everything else, even the
merest trifles. I remember distinctly the walk
she and 1 took alone together the day after their
arrival, racing along the road just like children.
How charming and refreshing are these memories
of the beginning of our university life ! Sonia
seemed so happy, so nobly happy ; and yet in
after-times, when she spoke of her youth, it was
with a bitter regret, as if she had wasted her
young years altogether. This always made me
think of those first months in Heidelberg, of our
enthusiastic discussions, of her poetical relation
to her young husband, who in those days loved
her with an entirely platonic tenderness. She
seemed to love him in the same way ; both were
as yet ignorant of those lower passions which are
usually misnamed love. It seems to me that
Sonia had no reason to complain ; her mind was
full of high aspirations. Yet this was the only
period during which I ever knew her happy. A

28 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

little later, in the very next year, it was no
longer the s ime.

The lectures began immediately after our
arrival. During the day Ave were all three at
the university, and in the evening we studied at
home. We had scarcely ever time to walk,
except on Sundays. Sometimes we went to
Mannheim to see a play at the theatre. We had
very few acquaintances, and on the whole paid
very few visits.

' Sonia immediately attracted her teachers'
attention by her unusual capacity for mathe-
matics. Professor Konigsberger, the celebrated
natural philosopher Kirchhof, whose courses of
practical physical science she attended, in fact
everybody, spoke of her as something extra-
ordinary. She had become so famous in the
little town, that people would stop in the streets
to look after the remarkable Russian lady. One
day she came home laughing, and told me that
a woman with a child on her arm had stopped
and looked at her, saying quite loud to the child :
" Look, look, that is the girl who is so fond of
going to school." (Sieh, sieh, das ist das Mad-
chen was so fleissig in die Schule geht ! )

* Reticent, almost shy, as she was in her inter-
course with teachers and students, Sonia always

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 29

entered the university with downcast or far-away-
looking eyes. She never spoke to her fellow-
students when she could help it. These manners
highly pleased the German professors. And her
shyness was by no means simulated, it was per-
fectly natural to her at that age. I remember
her coming home one day and telling me that
she had discovered a mistake which had been
made by one of the professors or pupils in a
demonstration on the black board. He got
more and more confused, and could not possibly
find the fault. With violently beating heart
Sonia at last made up her mind to get up and
point out the mistake.

' Kovalevsky used to take a lively interest in
everything, which made him a very pleasant
companion. However, our happy life was not to
last long. At the beginning of winter Sonia's
sister and her friend Inez arrived. Both were
several years older than we. As our apart-
ments were rather small, Kovalevsky thought he
had better find lodgings elsewhere, and leave his
room to the new comers. Sonia often visited
him, and sometimes spent whole days in his
company ; they also took walks alone together.
Very naturally, it was not pleasant for them to
be continually surrounded by so many ladies.

30 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

especially as the two elder ones were not always
very amiable to Kovalevsky. They had their
own ideas, and thought that, as the marriage had
only been an outward ceremony, Kovalevsky had
no right to give a more intimate character to his
relations with Sonia. This interference on their
part caused friction now and then, and marred
the harmony which had hitherto prevailed in our
little circle.

* After having spent a term in this way,
Kovalevsky preferred to leave Heidelberg, where
he had ceased to feel happy. He first went
to Jena, then to Munich, and gave himself up
entirely to his studies. He was very clever,
most industrious, and frugal in his habits, with-
out the slightest desire for amusements. Sonia
used to say that all he wanted to make him
happy was a book and a glass of tea. She did
not quite like this, and began to get jealous of
his studies, thinking that his work seemed to
make up entirely for her society. Sometimes
we would go and see her husband with her,
and between the terms the two took journeys
together, which always gave her great pleasure.
However, Sonia could not reconcile herself to
being separated from him during the terms,
and she began to torment him with incessant

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 3I

demands. She could not travel alone, he was
to come and fetch her, and take her wherever
she wanted to go ; while he was most absorbed
in his work, she gave him commissions, and
expected him to help her with all those trifles
he had been in the habit of attending to most
amiably, but which now seemed to irritate
him.

* When in aftertimes Sonia spoke to me about
her past life, her bitterest complaint was :
" Nobody has really loved me ! " And when
I objected, But your husband did love you
most fondly and truly, she always said, " He
only loved me when I was with him, but he
could do quite well without me."

* To me it seemed very natural, that he should
prefer not to be continually in her presence,
under the existing circumstances ; but Sonia
could not see this. From her childhood she
had been rather fond of carrying everything to
extremes. She wished to possess without being
possessed. I think this was to a great extent
the origin of her life's tragedy.'

I shall add a few more observations by her
friend and fellow-student during those years,
which will show that these peculiarities of her
character were developed from her earliest youth,

32 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

and were the root of all her subsequent conflicts
and sufferings :

' She was immensely fond of success ; when
once she had a settled purpose before her,
nothing could stop her in pursuing it with any
means at her disposal, and so she always used
to reach her end. Only where feelings were
concerned, strangely enough, her keen perception
continually failed her. She claimed too much
from those who loved her, and whom she loved,
and she had a way of taking by force what
would have been readily given, if she had not
so imperiously claimed it. She had an intense
craving for tenderness and confidence, and
continually wanted somebody at her side to
share everything with her, but she rendered life
impossible to those who lived in close contact
with her. Hers was a nature much too restless
and inharmonious to be contented in the long
run with intimate and tender companionship.
Moreover, she was much too personal to have
sufficient regard for the individuality of her
companion.

' Kovalevsky, too, in his way, was of a very
unsettled nature, always full of new schemes
and ideas. God knows whether these two
remarkably gifted persons would have been

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 33

able under any circumstances whatever to lead
a happy life together for any length of time.

' Sonia spent two terms at Heidelberg, till the
autumn of 1870, when she went to Berlin to
continue her studies under the direction of
Professor Weierstrass.

' In the mean time her husband had obtained
his degree as Dr. phil. in Jena, by means of a
dissertation which created a great sensation,
and acquired him a name as a distinguished
and independent investigator.'

Ill

STUDIES WITH WEIERSTRASS. VISIT
TO PARIS DURING THE COMMUNE

One day Professor Weierstrass was rather sur-
prised to see a young lady present herself before
him, asking to be admitted as his pupil in
mathematics. The Berlin University was, and
still is, closed to women, but Sonia's ardent
desire to be taught by the man who was
generally acknowledged to be the father of
modern mathematical analysis, made her apply
to him for private lessons.

Professor Weierstrass felt a certain distrust in
seeing this unknown female applicant ; however,
he promised to try her, and gave her some of
the problems which he had set apart for the more
advanced pupils in the seminary for mathematics.
He felt convinced that she would not be able
to solve them, and forgot all about her, the more so

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 35

as her outward appearance on the first visit had
left no impression at all upon his mind. She
never dressed well, and on this occasion she
wore a hat which hid her face completely, and
made her look very old, so that Professor
Weierstrass, as he told me himself, after having
seen her for the first time, had neither the
slightest idea of her age, nor of her unusually
expressive eyes, which used to attract everybody
at first sight. A week later she called again,
and said that she had solved all the problems.
He did not believe her, but asked her to sit
down beside him, after which he began to
examine her solutions one by one. To his
great surprise everything was not only correct,
but very acute and ingenious. Now in her
eagerness she took off her hat and uncovered
her short curly hair ; she blushed at his praises,
and the elderly professor felt something like
fatherly tenderness towards this young woman,
who possessed the divination of genius to a
degree he had seldom found, even in his more
advanced male pupils. And from that moment
the great mathematician became her friend for
life, the most faithful and helpful friend she
could wish. In his family she. was received
a?, a. (^.auo^h.ter and sister.

Зб SONIA KOVALEVSKY

The four years' work that now ensued with
Professor Weierstrass had a decisive influence
on her whole scientific career. Her productions
are based upon his, they are applications or
developments of his maxims.

The lessons were carried on in this way : he
visited her once a week, and every Sunday
evening she came to him. Her husband, who
had accompanied her to Berlin, left her alone
there with her fellow-student from Heidelberg,
but now and then he came and visited her.
Their relations were still very peculiar, and
caused some wonder in the Weierstrass family,
where the husband never appeared, in spite of
the familiar footing on which his wife stood
with all its members. Sonia never mentioned
him, never introduced him to Weierstrass, but
on Sunday evenings, after her lesson, he would
ring the door bell and say to the servant : ' Will
you tell Madame Kovalevsky that a carriage is
waiting for her at the door.' Sonia always felt
rather awkward at the unnatural relations in
which they stood to one another. One of the
Heidelberg professors said that he once met
Kovalevsky at her house, and that she introduced
him as a ' relative.'

Her friend gives the following description of

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 37

their life in Berlin : — ' We led a much more
solitary and monotonous life than in Heidelberg,
and were quite alone. Sonia used to sit bent
over her papers all day long, I was at the
laboratory till the evening, and after a hurried
supper we resumed our work. Except Professor
Weierstrass, who came frequently, we never saw
anybody within our walls. Sonia was depressed,
nothing seemed to give her pleasure, she was
indifferent to everything except her work. Her
husband's visits used to cheer her a little, though
as a rule their pleasure in being together was
spoilt by misunderstandings and reproaches.
Nevertheless they seemed much attached to one
another. They always took long walks by
themselves.

' When alone with me, Sonia never went out,
neither for walks nor to the play, not even for
the most indispensable shopping.

' We were invited to spend Christmas with the
Weierstrass family, and a tree had been decked
for our sake only. Sonia was in urgent need of
a new dress, but could not be induced to go and
buy one. We had a severe quarrel on this
occasion. (If her husband had been present,
it would have been all right ; he used to provide
for all her wants, to choose the material, and

38 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

decide the fashion of her dresses.) At last
she gave our landlady a commission to buy the
stuff and order the dress to be made, without
herself setting foot outside the door.

* It was most extraordinary how she could go
on hour after hour with the most fatiguing
brainwork, without once rising from her writing-
table. When, after a whole day's work, she
would at last leave her papers and get up, she
was frequently so absorbed in her thoughts, that
she kept striding up and down her room,
speaking out loud to herself, and sometimes
bursting into a laugh. At those moments her
imagination had carried her far away from the
real world ; but she could never be persuaded
to tell what fancies had filled her mind. She
slept very little at night and very restlessly.
Sometimes she would start up violently, awaking
from some fantastic dream, and ask me to keep
her company. She used to tell me her dreams,
which were always peculiar and interesting.
Frequently they were a kind of visions, which
she took for prophecies, and events often justified
her belief. Her temperament was nervous in
the highest degree. She was never at rest,
would always be occupied with some difficult
task or problem, exerting herself to the utmost

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 39

to master it, and yet I never saw her so prostrate
as when she had gained her end. Reality
always seemed far behind her anticipations.
While she was thus overstraining her nerves,
her companionship was not particularly pleasant,
but when the strain was over, and you saw her
depressed and miserable in the midst of her
triumphs, you could not help pitying her intensely.
It was these strong contrasts between light and
shadow which made her character so interest-
ing.

'On the whole, our life in Berlin — with bad lodg-
ings, bad food, ditto air, constant and excessive
work, no changes, no amusements — was so dreary,
that I frequently looked back to our first time
in Heidelberg as to a lost paradise. When, in the
autumn of 1874, Sonia got her degree as Dr. phil.
she was so worn out mentally and physically,
that on her return to Russia, she was for a long
time incapable of any work.

* In fact, Sonia's scientific labours never
gave her any real joy. She would always
go to the utmost limit of exertion, which pre-
vented her, not only from enjoying life, but
from enjoying her very work ; thought was her
tyrant instead of her servant. It was quite the
reverse later on with her literary productions.

40 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

which used to give her intense delight and put
her into the most cheerful humour.

' Many other circumstances besides her exces-
sive work added to the unhappiness of her
student years in Berlin.

* First of all, her relation to her husband, her
sense of the false position in which they were
placed, and which had become worse through
the unwise interference of her parents.

' They had visited her several times during her
vacations, and taken her with them to Russia.
When at last the real state of things had be-
come clear to them, they had blamed her and tried
to improve matters by bringing husband and wife
into closer relations ; but Sonia would not hear of
any change.

'Yet she was not satisfied with her isolated
life. Already she had begun to feel the
craving for great emotions, which afterwards
became a consuming fire in her. Her innermost
self was the very reverse of what you would
suppose, judging by her way of living ; but her
longings and desires were suppressed, partly from
shyness, partly from lack of practical sense and
a feeling of her false position. Later on she often
bitterly regretted the utter solitude in which she
had spent these years.

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 4 1

'The two friends' helplessness in all practical
matters went a long way to render their life un-
pleasant ; they always got bad lodgings, miser-
able food, and the worst servants. Once they
fell into the clutches of a gang of thieves, who
robbed them systematically. On another occa-
sion, discovering that their servant was a thief,
they taxed her with it ; she grew insolent, and
they had to give her notice immediately. When
they were sitting alone in their room that evening,
not knowing how to get their beds made for the
night, somebody knocked at the window (they
lived on the ground floor). They looked up and
saw a woman's face against the pane. In great
fright they asked what she wanted, and she
replied that she was looking for a situation.
Although they disliked her appearance very much,
they were too helpless to refuse, and with great
misgivings engaged her. This woman tyrannised
over and robbed them to such a degree, that
they had to call in the police to get rid of her.

' However, as a rule, Sonia was very indiffer-
ent to the practical sides of life ; she scarcely
noticed whether her food was good or bad, her
rooms done or not, or her clothes torn or tidy.
It was only during serious crises that such un
pleasant things affected her.'

42 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

J In January 1 871, Sonia was obliged to inter-
rupt her studies to start on a very adventurous
journey.

Aniuta, who soon wearied of her mono-
tonous Hfe in Heidelberg, had gone to Paris
without her parents' permission. She wanted to
train herself for the career of an authoress, and
felt that living shut up in a study with Sonia
did not suit her purpose. What she required
was acquaintances among literary people, know-
ledge of real life and of the stage. Once escaped
from the paternal restraint, she boldly followed
her own devices. As she could not possibly
write to her father that she was in Paris, her
passionate craving for living life on her own
responsibility induced her to deceive him. So
her letters always went through Sonia's hands,
and bore the German stamp. But gradually she
was drawn into relations, which entangled her
so completely, that she could not release herself,
and every day it became more difficult to confess
the truth to her parents.

She had formed an intimate connection with
a young Frenchman, who afterwards took a
leading position under the Commune ; and she

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 43

now found herself shut up in Paris during the
whole siege.

Sonia, in the greatest anxiety about her
sister's fate, and oppressed by her responsibility
in having helped Aniuta in her secret journey,
made up her mind, as soon as the siege had
been raised, to try to get into Paris accompanied
by her husband, and to search for her sister.

When in after times Sonia spoke of this
journey, she was hardly able to explain how
they succeeded in getting into the city, break-
ing through the German lines. They walked
along the Seine till they discovered an empty
boat which had been pulled ashore. They
immediately took possession of it and set
off, but had scarcely gone a few yards when a
sentry caught sight of them and gave the
alarm. Without answering they hurried on,
and owing either to negligence or indifference
on the part of the guards, they succeeded
in escaping to the opposite shore, and in
entering Paris unnoticed, just at the first out-
break of the Commune.

Years afterwards, Sonia had an idea of publish-
ing some of their experiences in literary form ;
but, alas, this plan, as well as many others,
went to the grave with her. One of her ideas

44 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

was to write a story with the title : ' The Sisters
Rajevsky during the Commune/ and amongst
other interesting scenes, to describe a night
in an ambulance where she and Aniuta did
service, and where they met some young girls
of their early acquaintance in St Petersburg.
While shells were exploding all around, and
wounded persons were constantly being brought
in, the young women talked in a whisper about
past times, which were so different from their
present life and surroundings ; it all seemed like
a dream or a fairy tale.

Sonia was still at the age when grand and
thrilling historical events impress one like a
sensation novel ; she saw bombs bursting with-
out the slightest fear, it only gave her a pleasant
feeling of excitement, an inward exultation, to
live in the midst of this drama.

This time she could do nothing for her sister.
Aniuta had flung herself with passionate energy
into the political movement, and wished for
no better fate than to risk her life with the man
to whom she had united her lot for ever. So,
shortly after these events, the Kovalevskys left
Paris again, and Sonia resumed her studies
in Berlin.

But after the fall of the Commune she was

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 45

called back, this time by Aniuta herself, who
now besought her to intercede with their father
in order to induce him to forgive her deception,
and to use all possible influence to help her out
of the desperate situation in which she was
placed. Mr. Y. had been taken prisoner, and
was condemned to death.

When we remember the portrait Sonia has
given of her father in * The Sisters Rajevsky,'
we can easily imagine how painfully he felt
the blow when he suddenly learned the cruel
truth, that he had again been deceived by his
children, that his elder daughter had followed
her inclination, and gone her own way in
a manner which must necessarily wound all
his instincts and principles in their tenderest
point. Only a few years previously, on dis-
covering Aniuta's secret authorship, for which
she received payment, he had been beside
himself with grief and anger, and had broken
out into these words : * Now you sell your
work, how can I be certain that some day you
will not sell yourself!'

Strangely enough, he took this new and far
deeper grief much more calmly. He and his
wife hastened to Paris, accompanied by the
Kovalevskys, and on meeting his guilty child

4б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

he was so full с f kindness and forbearance, that
his daughters, who felt what they had deserved
of him, from this moment clung to him with an
affection they had never shown before.

To my regret, I can only give a few unconnected
anecdotes relating to this most eventful period.

As General Krukovsky had an introduction
to Thiers, he applied to him to obtain pardon for
his future son-in-law. Thiers was sorry not to
be able to do anything, but in the course of
their conversation he let fall the apparently
trivial remark, that the prisoners, among whom
was M. Т., would be removed to another prison
on the following day ; they were to pass
by a building where an exhibition was held,
and where there was apt to be great traffic at
that time of the day. Consequently Aniuta went
thither at the appointed hour, mixed with the
crowd, and at the moment when the prisoners
passed, stole unnoticed through the escort of
soldiers, seized Mr Y.'s arm, and disappeared
with him into the exhibition, whence they
succeeded in escaping through another gate to
the railway station.

The story seems strange, almost incredible,
but I simply state it as it was told by Sonia and
other friends.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 47

After a friend's death, how bitterly do we often
regret not having paid sufficient attention to
his or her words, not having put down all the
interesting things they said. There is the
more reason for me to deplore my negligence in
this case, as Sonia so often said to me : ' You
are to write my biography after my death/ But
in those moments of intimate conversation, who
realises that the day may actually come, when
we are left behind, and have nothing but the
memory of the close tie that bound us to the
deceased ? Who does not expect a morrov/ to
come which will offer abundant opportunity for
filling up the blanks left in our conversation,
with its rapid transitions from one subject to
another ?

In 1874, Sonia took her degree as Dr. phil. at
the University of Gottingen, for which she had
written three dissertations under the direction of
Weierstrass, of which one in particular — ' Zur
Theorie der partiellen Differentialgleichungen '
{Crelles Journal у vol. 80), is considered one of her
most remarkable works. By special licence, the
oral examination was pretermitted. In the
following letter to the Dean of the Faculty of
Philosophy at Gottingen, she explains in her own
characteristic way her motives for desiring the

48 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

dispensation, which is only granted in very ex-
ceptional cases : —

' Your Honour (Euer Spectabilitat) will kindly
permit me to add a few words to the petition by
which I present myself for the degree of Dr.
phil. in your faculty.

' It is not an easy step for me to come forward
from the retirement in which I have been living
hitherto. I have overcome my reluctance to
do so only from a desire to satisfy very near
relatives of mine, whose judgment is of great im-
portance to me, and to whom I wanted to give
an indisputable proof that my taste for the study
of mathematics was really serious, and that my
work has not been in vain. Moreover, I have
been told that as a foreigner I may take my
degree in absentia, provided I present sufficiently
important works, and favourable testimonials
from competent authorities.

' And also — I hope your Honour will not mis-
understand my open confession — I am doubtful
whether I possess sufficient self-assertion for an
examen rigorosnni ; I am rather afraid that
my exceptional position before a tribunal of
unknown gentlemen would be somewhat oppres-
sive and confusing to me, though I am perfectly

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 49

convinced that my examiners would meet me
with kind consideration.

' As a last reason I must add, that I have not
mastered the German language sufficiently in
conversation, though I am accustomed to use it
in mathematics, when I have ample time for
reflection.

' I did not begin to learn German till five years
ago, and during the four years I have spent in
Berlin, I have lived a very solitary life, scarcely
speaking the language except during the hours I
was with my dear master.

' For these reasons, I venture to ask for your
Honour's kind permission that I may be dis-
pensed from examen rigorosmn!

This request, and particularly the great merits
of her written work, as well as her excellent
testimonials, succeeded in obtaining for Sonia
the exceptional favour of being created Dr. phil.
without personal attendance.

Shortly after the Krukovsky family were again
united in their old family home, Palibino.

IV

LIFE IN RUSSIA

Very different indeed is the present picture of
the family from the description Sonia has given
in the memoirs of her childhood ( ' Sisters
Rajevsky ' ). The two young girls, dreaming of
the wide unknown world, had now changed into
highly-experienced women. Though their youth-
ful anticipations had scarcely been realised, they
had SQen and heard enough to have plenty of
subjects for conversation during the winter
evenings at their fireside in the large drawing-
room with the red silk damask furniture, whilst
the samovar was singing on the tea-table, and
the starving wolves were performing their nightly
concert outside in the lonely park. The world
had lost something of its immensity in their
eyes, for they had seen a good deal of it, and
measured its proportions.

Aniuta had passed through a sufficiently

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 5 I

eventful time to satisfy her longing for strong
emotions. She was passionately fond of the
man who sat at her side in the arm-chair, with
a tired, somewhat satirical expression ; her love
was so intense and jealous, that it promised
to offer constant and sufficient excitement. The
younger sister, hitherto, it is true, had only lived
in her intelligence, but her thirst for knowledge
had been so completely satisfied, nay, satiated,
that she was incapable at present of working any
more with her brain. She spent her time in
reading novels, playing cards, and mixing in the
society of the neighbourhood, where intellectual
interests were scarcely cultivated at all.

The greatest source of joy to Sonia at this
time was the change that had taken place in her
father. Like herself, he was one of those who,
through intelligence and reflection, are able to
modify and improve their character, and the
roughness and despotism, which used formerly
to be characteristic of him, had been softened
under the hard trials to which his daughters had
subjected him. He discovered by experience,
that such power as he had claimed to exercise
in his younger years cannot be arrogated with
impunity, even by parents over their children.
So he now tolerated with indulgence the radical

52 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

opinions of one son-in-law, a former * Com-
munard/ as well as the materialistic tendencies
of his other son-in-law, the naturalist.

This was the most beautiful memory Sonia
kept of her father, and it impressed itself the
more deeply in her heart, as this winter was his
last ; heart-disease put a quick and unexpected
end to his life.

The blow was very hard. Of late Sonia had
attached herself so fondly to her father, whom,
indeed, she had always loved more than her
mother. Madame Krukovsky was one of those
women whom everybody likes, and who are kind
to all, but who, for this very reason, was less
congenial to her daughter. Moreover, Sonia
always imagined herself to be loved by her
mother less than her brother and sister, while she
knew she was her father's favourite.

His death left a terrible blank, and made her
feel very lonely. Aniuta had her husband, with
whom she could share her grief; Sonia had
nobody. She had always kept aloof from the
man whose most ardent desire had been to com-
fort and help her. Now, suddenly, her relation
to him appeared more painful and unnatural
to her than ever, her longing for tenderness
broke down all prejudices, and so, in this time of

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 53

sorrow, she prepared herself quietly to become
his real wife.

Next winter the whole family moved to St
Petersburg. Sonia soon found herself the centre
of a most distinguished and intellectual circle, an
exquisite society, the equal of which is hardly to
be found anywhere but in the capital of Russia.
Not only Sonia, but any one who has frequented
similar circles, will acknowledge that really dis-
tinguished and liberal-minded Russians surpass
all others in manysidedness, unbiassed views,
and a wide spiritual sphere. They are ahead of
the most advanced in other countries, the first to
discover new mental phenomena on the horizon,
and with their wonderfully open eye they com-
bine an enthusiasm for, and a faith in, their ideals,
which we scarcely find in any other European
nation.

Here Sonia felt herself understood and ad-
mired. For her, now in the full bloom of youth,
this change was delightful ; she threw herself
ardently into the vortex of the world — festivals,
plays, lectures, parties, and similar excitements.

As her present surroundings were more given
to literary than to scientific interests, Sonia, with

54 У SONIA KOVALEVSKY

her responsive sympathy, was carried away into
the same groove. She contributed to newspapers,
wrote poetry, dramatic criticism, etc., always
anonymously ; she also published a novel, ' The
Private Lecturer,' which treated of university life
in a small German town, and was considered
very promising.

Aniuta, who also settled down in Petersburg
with her husband for some years, became a really
successful authoress. Woldemar Kovalevsky
worked chiefly at translations, and published
several popular scientific works, Brehm's cele-
brated ' Birds,' for example.

The fortune Sonia inherited from her father
was very small at present, as he had left the
bulk of his property to his wife ; and the life
the Kovalevskys were leading necessitated a
certain luxury. This may have given Sonia the
first idea of throwing herself into business spec-
ulations. Though her husband was personally
indifferent to all kinds of luxury, his lively and
impressionable imagination was soon carried away
by these ideas, and so one industrial enterprise
followed another. They built houses in St
Petersburg, bathing establishments, an orangery ;
they edited papers, started inventions of different
kinds, and for a time everything seemed to

SONIA KOVALEYSKY 55

flourish. Their friends prophesied a glodous
future, and when in 1878 their first and only
child was born, this daughter was hailed as a
great heiress. But, as usual, Sonia had ominous
forebodings of misfortunes. One of her intimate
friends at the time remembers, that on the very
day when there was to be a grand ceremony
in honour of their first house, of which the
foundation stone was to be laid, Sonia said, that
the day was spoilt for her by a dream she had
had the previous night. She had seen herself
standing on the site of the new house, surrounded
by a large crowed which had assembled to
witness the ceremony ; all of a sudden people
had separated, and in the midst of them her
husband had appeared, fighting with a diabolical
man, who fell upon him, and with a sardonic
laugh, knocked him down.

For a long time she remained uneasy and
downhearted on account of this dream, which
was to be most sadly fulfilled.

When all their speculations, after having been
started in the grandest style, failed one after
another, Sonia's energy and strength of mind
revealed themselves in all their superiority. For
a moment she might be tempted to use her
intelligence and inventive power for the purpose

5 б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

of creating a fortune, but her heart could never
deeply attach itself to such an unsatisfactory
pursuit. To lose millions at one stroke would
not disturb her night's rest, or add a wrinkle to
her brow, and she now beheld the loss of a
dream-fortune without the slightest grief. She
had wished to be rich, because all manifestations
of life tempted her, because her imaginative and
passionate nature made her wish to know every-
thing. But when she saw that all attempts
failed, she was instantly ready to give them up ;
and now she devoted all her energy to comfort
and help her husband.

Strangely enough, this unassuming man, who
had never for a moment wished for riches, or
been tempted by the treasures they can procure,
had been much more ardent than his wife in
his desire to make a fortune in this way. It
seemed as if failure in itself would crush his
nature, while Sonia possessed, not only the rare
strength of submitting to the inevitable, but
also sufficient elasticity of mind to throw herself
into new tasks.

This time she succeeded in preventing a
collapse. Regardless of effort and humiliation,
she hurried to all their friends who had shared
in the enterprises, and an arrangement was made

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 57

which satisfied all parties. She was rewarded
by her husband's gratitude and admiration, and
a new era of happiness seemed to dawn upon them.

But the demon of Sonia's dream now really
made his appearance. He was a kind of adven-
turer in grand style, with whom Kovalevsky
had had business relations, and who now tried
to tempt him into new and dangerous speculations.
Sonia, who possessed to an unusual degree
the gift of penetrating character at first sight,
immediately took such a dislike to this man,
that she could not bear to see him in her house.
She besought her husband to keep aloof from
this bad adviser, to give up all speculations, as
she had done herself, and to return to scientific
work. But it was no use. Although about this
time, 1880-81, Kovalevsky was appointed Pro-
fessor of Palaeontology at the University of Mos-
cow, where he and his wife were then residing, he
could not tear himself away from his grand
schemes, which were taking more and more
fantastic dimensions.

Kovalevsky was so blinded by his new and
dangerous ally, that he would not listen to his
wife's objections. At last, as he could not make
her share his views, he excluded her from his
confidence, and acted on his own responsibility

58 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

This was the most painful blow to her, and one
which, with her character, she was unable to
bear. Having once made up her mind really
to belong to her husband, she had staked
everything on tightening and deepening the bond
between them. It was in her nature to devote
herself with passionate intensity to that which,
at any given moment, she felt to be the most
important object of her life. She drew a distinct
line between the important and the unimportant,
and it was one of the great features in her
character, which rendered her so superior to
other women, that she never sacrificed the
essential to the unessential. There was no
narrowness in her; in matters of feeling she
could not bear half-heartedness, and she was
capable of sacrificing all to the one great purpose
in view.

Sonia did her utmost to save her husband
from the danger that threatened him. One of
her friends describes her struggles and sacrifices
in the following way : — ■

' She tried to give Kovalevsky a new interest in
his science, occupied herself with geological
studies, prepared his lectures with him, did
everything to render his home-life as attractive
as possible. All in vain. I think he was no

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 59

longer in a normal state of mind ; his nerves
had been over-excited, and he could not recover
the lost balance.'

The adventurer had no more ardent wish than
to separate the too clear-sighted wife from her
husband, and he profited by the dawning discon-
tent between them, to make her suspect that her
husband's reticence had another cause than she
supposed, and that she had reason to be jealous.

From Sonia's own statements we know, that
as a child of ten she had a tendency to pas-
sionate jealousy. To touch this chord was to
rouse the strongest passion of her ardent nature.
Sonia lost her critical insight, and was incapable
of examining whether the accusation was true
or not — in later years she was almost positive
that the whole thing was an invention — she only
felt an intense desire to get away, away from the
humiliation of feeling herself abandoned, a fear
lest her passion should tempt her to base
espionage, or to making a scandal. To live
with a husband whose love and confidence she
thought she had lost, to see him go to ruin with-
out being able to stop Jiim, was a task beyond
her nature. She was incapable of resigning ; in
matters of feeling she was as uncompromising
and exacting as she was forbearing and easy to

бО SON I А KOVALEVSKY

satisfy in outward matters. Without really
loving this man, she had devoted herself entirely
to him, shared all his interests, and tried to
attach him to her with the ardent desire of a
woman, who naturally craves for possessing the
undivided devotion of her husband and her
child's father. When, in spite of all these efforts,
she saw him turn away and place another be-
tween them, the artificial bond of tenderness
burst asunder, her heart shrank back and cast
out the image to which it had clung by an effort
of her will, and she was once more alone.

She now resolved to create a future for herself
and her little daughter, and left home and
country to resume her solitary, studious life
abroad.

A TRAVELLING ADVENTURE. A
BLOW OF FATE.

When the train had left the station, and Sonia
had lost the last glimpse of the friends who
had seen her off, she yielded to her emotion,
which hitherto she had repressed by a strong
effort, and burst into a violent fit of tears. She
wept for her short happiness, for her lost dream
of fully sympathetic life with another person ;
and she trembled at the prospectiof lonely study,
which had once been her whole life, but which
could satisfy her no longer, now that she had
tasted the happiness of living in a home of her
own, loved and understood by sympathising
friends.

She tried to find comfort in the thought that
she was going to resume her mathematical
studies, that she would write a work which was
to bring her fame and to shed glory over her

б2 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

sex — it was all in vain ; these joys now seemed
pale compared to the personal happiness, which
for the last few years had been her lot and only
aim. The paroxysm of grief became more and
more violent, and shook her from head to foot.

She never noticed a middle-aged gentleman,
who was sitting opposite to her, watching her
with sympathy. ' I cannot bear to see you cry
in this way,' he exclaimed at last. * I suppose it
is the first time you have been out into the world
alone, but after all, you are not going to can-
nibals, and a young girl like you may always be
sure to find friends when she wants them.'

Sonia looked up in surprise, and immediately
stopped crying. She who used to conceal so
carefully the wounds of her heart, even from her
nearest relations, felt ashamed to have shown
her grief before a stranger.

It was a relief to her, however, to find that he
had not the slightest idea who she was. From
the conversation that followed, it appeared that
he took her for a young governess, who was
going abroad to earn her living, and she did not
undeceive him, glad to preserve her incognito in
this way ; it even cheered her to play the part.
She had no difficulty in identifying herself with
the poor governess, and with shy, downcast eyes

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 63

she received her travelling companion's advice
and comfort. In spite of her real grief, the
fantastic element in her was strong enough to
make her enjoy the mystification. When the
gentleman proposed that they should go out to-
gether and see the town through which they had
to pass, she consented, and spent two days there
in his company, after which they separated with-
out having told each other their names or posi-
tions.

This little episode is very characteristic of
Sonia's taste for adventure. She liked the
stranger, his kind sympathy touched her ; why
not accept this little pleasure which chance
threw in her path ? Another woman no doubt
would have'been compromised in the eyes of the
gentleman by allowing herself such liberty ;
but to Sonia, who for so many years had lived
in companionship with her own husband with-
out belonging to him, the affair seemed very
simple, and she was well aware that, in her inter-
course with men, it lay with herself to draw the
limit where she liked. No man could ever mis-
understand her in this respect.

Later on, during her residence in Paris, she
showed a similar disregard of conventionality in
carrying to the extreme limit a relation, which

б4 SON I А KOVALEVSKY

must needs have appeared suspicious to her
hostess, who did not know what to think of her
lodger on seeing a man come out of her room
about two o'clock in the morning and climb over
the garden-wall — the more so as this young man
spent whole days with Sonia, and always re-
mained late. Moreover, he was the only person
with whom she had any intercourse. Very
naturally, this looked suspicious ; yet the relation
in this case was as platonic as could be
imagined.

The young man was a Pole and a revolu-
tionary, a mathematician and a poet.

His soul and hers were like two flames burn-
ing in unison ; nobody had ever understood her
as he did — every mood, thought, and dream.
They were continually together, and during their
short hours of separation they wrote long epistles
to one another. They wrote poems in company,
and had even commenced writing a long romantic
novel.

They were enthusiastic believers in the idea
that human beings are created as pairs,
so that each man or woman forms only one
half of the complete creature, the other half
existing somewhere on the globe, though only
a rare and happy chance would join the two

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 65

In this life ; in most cases they would only
find one another in their future existence.
Could anything be more romantic ?

These two could not be united here on earth,
because the conditions for such an union had
already been spoilt. Even if Sonia could have
recovered her liberty, she had belonged to
another, and the young man, who had kept pure
for the sake of the woman who was to have been
his only love, could not reconcile himself to this
idea. Nor did she feel that she had a right to
belong to anybody else, for the bond that united
her to her husband was not entirely broken.
Now and then they wrote to each other, and
spoke of meeting again ; and in her heart she had
a kindly feeling for him still.

So her relations to the Pole consisted ex-
clusively of an exchange of thoughts, and an
abstract analysis of feelings.

They would sit together talking incessantly,
intoxicating themselves with a never-ending flov/
of words, a special characteristic of the Slavonic
race.

For a time all this made Sonia forget the dis-
cordances of her real life — when suddenly fate
struck her with a brutal, crushing blow.

Her husband had lacked courage to survive

66 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

the discovery that he had been deceived into a
scandalous fraud, and ruined his family. This
highly gifted and distinguished man, so simple
and unassuming in his manners, who never
coveted for himself any of the amusements that
money can procure, had fallen a victim to a
swindle, Avhich was quite contrary to his whole
character and disposition.

This news threw Sonia on her bed with a
violent nervous fever, from which she rose as if
the nerve of her life had been cut asunder.
Remorse at having left her husband, instead of
remaining with him and supporting him, — though
this would have been to condemn herself to an
almost unendurable struggle, — tormented her
with all the bitterness of the irreparable. During
this illness and mental struggle her appearance
had lost its freshness, she had become many
years older, her fine complexion was gone, and
a deep wrinkle had settled between her brows,
where it remained ever after.

VI

THE FIRST INVITATION FROM
SWEDEN

During her residence in St Petersburg, in 1876,
Sonia had already made an acquaintance which
was to be of decisive influence on her future.

Professor Mittag Leffler, a pupil of Weierstrass,
like herself, had so frequently heard the pro-
fessor speak of her remarkable ability, that he
wished to make her acquaintance, and therefore
paid her a visit.

This time no foreboding told Sonia how im-
portant this new acquaintance would become
to her. She felt rather disinclined to receive the
visit, because at that time she had quite laid
aside her scientific studies, and did not even keep
up her correspondence with her old master. But
during her conversation with Mittag Leffler her
former interest revived, and she revealed such

6S SONIA KOVALEVSKY

acuteness of thought, such quickness of percep-
tion in the most intricate mathematical ques-
tions, that her visitor felt almost bewildered,
when he looked at the youthful face before him.
The impression he had received of her distinction
as a female thinker was so deep, that several
years later, when he was called to the professor-
ship of mathematics at the recently-founded
Stockholm University, one of his first steps was
to send in a petition that Madame Kovalevsky
might be nominated lecturer under him.

A few years before the death of her husband,
Sonia had expressed a wish to obtain a situa-
tion as lecturer at some university. Mittag
Leffler, warmly interested in the new centre of
scientific study in his native town, as well as
in the woman-question, eagerly desired to shed
glory on the new university, by attaching to it
the first really great female name in his science.

Already in 1 88 1 , with regard to these prospects,
Sonia had written the following lines to Mittag
Leffier :—

' Berlin, Bellevuestrasse,
'yu/yS^/i, 1 88 1.

' . . . Nevertheless, I thank you most heartily
for your wish that I may be called to Stockholm,
and for all your efforts in the matter. As for

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 69

myself, I can assure you that if the post of
lecturer were offered me, I should be very glad
to accept it. I have never aspired to anything
higher, and I even confess to you, that to begin
with I should feel less shy in this position, and
quite satisfied to have an opportunity of em-
ploying my knowledge in the service of the higher
education, and securing access for women to a
university career, a privilege which hitherto has
been bestowed only as an exception and a
special favour, and might be easily and volun-
tarily withdrawn, as has been the case at most of
the German universities.

' Without being rich, my means allow me to
live quite independently, so that the question of
salary would be irrelevant in this case. What
I wish above all, is to serve a cause dear to me,
and, at the same time, to work surrounded by
persons who are occupied with the same studies
as myself, an advantage I have always been
longing for, which I miss in Russia, and which
hitherto I have enjoyed only in Berlin.

' These, my dear Professor, are my personal
feelings. But I must add another consideration.
So far as Professor Weierstrass can judge of
circumstances in Stockholm, he does not think
that the university will ever admit a woman

70 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

among its teachers ; and, what is more important
still, he is afraid that your insisting on this inno-
vation might prejudice your own position. It
would be much too selfish on my part not to
inform you of our dear master's opinion on this
matter ; and you may imagine how sorry I should
be, if, after all, I became a hindrance to you,
who have always given me so much interest
and ready help, and for whom I feel the sincerest
friendship.

' Therefore, I think the wisest plan would be
not to take any step at present in this affair ;
to wait at any rate till I have finished the work
which occupies me just now. If I succeed in my
task as well as I wish and hope, it will, at all
events, be a great help to me in reaching the end
I have in view.'

The succeeding dramatic events in Sonia's
life (separation from her husband, her romantic
episode with her Polish friend, Kovalevsky's
death, her own long illness), retarded the accom-
plishment of this task. Not until August 1883
did she inform Mittag Leffler that she had
finished one of her books. On August 28th,
she writes from Odessa : —

* At last I have brought to a close one of the

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 7 1

two works that have occupied my mind these
two years. As soon as I thought I had obtained
a satisfactory result, my first wish was to inform
you of it ; but Herr Weierstrass, with his usual
kindness, undertook to write to you about my
successful researches. I have just received a
letter from him, telling me that he had written
to you, and received your answer in return, in
which, with your invariable kindness towards
me, you ask me to come to Stockholm as soon
as possible, in order to begin a course of private
lectures there. I cannot sufficiently express my
gratitude for the friendship you have always
shewn me, nor tell you how happy I am to enter
upon a career, which has been the object of my
constant desires. Nevertheless, I must not
conceal from you, that in many respects I
do not feel myself qualified for the duties of
a lecturer, and I am almost afraid that, in
spite of your kind predilection for me, you will
be quite disappointed with my performances,
when you come to see them at close quarters.

*I feel so deeply obliged to the Stockholm
University, which, alone among all, is willing
to open its doors to me, that I can only wish
to attach myself to Stockholm and Sweden,
and to look upon them as my second country,

72 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

hoping to remain there for many years. But
for that very reason I should not Hke to go,
until 1 feel I deserve your good opinion, and
am able to create a favourable impression.
I have written to Weierstrass to-day, asking
whether he does not think it wiser for me to
remain with him for two or three months more,
in order to possess myself more thoroughly of
his ideas, and to fill up the blanks which may
still be left in my knowledge of mathematics.

' These two months in Berlin would also be
of great advantage to me, in helping me to
get into touch with the young mathematicians
who are finishing their studies, or beginning their
career as lecturers, and with whom I used to
be closely connected during my last visit to
Berlin. I might even arrange to exchange
lessons with some of them, and undertake my-
self to expound the theory of the transformations
of the Abel-functions, which they do not know,
and which I have studied thoroughly. This
would offer me an opportunity of lecturing,
which, hitherto, I have not had at all, and I
should come to Stockholm in January much
more sure of myself.'

VII

ARRIVAL IN STOCKHOLM. FIRST
IMPRESSIOiNS.

Very naturally, my first meeting with Sonia
stands engraved in my memory, especially since
her death, in its minutest details. She had
arrived by steamer from Finland the previous
night, and was staying as guest in the house of
my brother, Mittag Leffler. I went to call upon
her in the morning.

We were prepared to become friends ; having
heard so much of each other, we were both
longing to meet. Perhaps she had anticipated
more pleasure from our acquaintance than I, for
she took great interest in my vocation, whilst I
was a little afraid that a mathematical woman
would be too abstract for my taste.

When I entered she was standing near the
library window with a book in her hand. Before

74 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

she turned round, I had time to notice her grave
profile, with somewhat large features, rich chest-
nut hair, rather carelessly coiled in a knot, a
slender though not well-proportioned figure, the
body appearing too small for the massive head.
Her mouth was large, with full fresh lips, and
very expressive in its distinctly marked lines.
Her hands were very small, like a child's, and
refined, though a little marred by two distinct
blue veins.

But her eyes ! They were of a wonderful
expression, and gave to her face the peculiar
charm that attracted everybody ; their colour
could not be defined, as it alternated between
grey-green and brown ; they sparkled with
intelligence, as if piercing your soul to its
innermost recesses. But at the same time they
were kind and genial, beaming with sympathy,
and, as with a kind of magnetic spell, won your
confidence immediately. They were unusually
large and convex ; at times, when they were
tired, you noticed a certain cast in them, which
might be partly owing to their extreme short-
sightedness.

She turned round quickly and met me with
outstretched hands, 3^et there was a certain
shyness in her manner, and her greeting was

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 75

rather conventional. She told me that she had
caught a violent toothache on the steamer, and
I offered to take her to a dentist — rather an
unpleasant beginning in her new home.

At that time my mind was taken up with the
plan of a play, * How we do good/ but I had
written nothing of it as yet. So great was her
power of drawing others out, that before -we
arrived at the dentist's, I had told her the whole
thing much more completely than I had seen it
myself before. And ever afterwards she continued
to exercise the greatest influence on all I wrote.
She had an extraordinary gift of understanding
and sympathising; her approval was so warm
and enthusiastic, her censure so scorching, that
it became impossible to a receptive nature like
mine to work without her approval. If she
happened to blame anything I had written, I
kept changing it till she was pleased — and this
was the beginning of our collaboration. She
used to say that I should never have written
' True Women ' * if I had known her before it
was published, for this play as well as ' War
against Society,' were the only works of mine
which she disliked. * True Women ' for a

* Translated into English by Mr H. L. Brsekstad, and pub-
lished by Samuel French, Strand.

"J 6 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

very characteristic reason : she blamed Bertha's
struggle to save the remainder of her fortune
for her mother's sake, ' for/ said she, ' when a
woman has given herself to a man, she must not
hesitate to sacrifice her fortune to him to the
last penny.'

This criticism was just like her, for she was
in the highest degree individual in her judg-
ment of literary matters. If the thoughts and
sentiments of the work agreed with her own,
she felt inclined to praise it, though it might be
of small literary value. On the other hand, if
the author shocked her by his views, she would
scarcely admit any merit in his production.

In spite of these prejudices, her views on life
were very large, such as we find only in the
most superior minds of our time. She was
perfectly free from conventional and common-
place opinions. Her strong dash of genius, and
her wide culture, raised her high over the narrow
horizon within which traditional views keep most
minds prisoned. Her only limitations were those
of her strong sympathies and antipathies, which
braved all logic and argument.

Our intercourse this first time did not last
long, and did not as yet develop into intimate
friendship, because I started on a long journey

SONIA KOA^ALEVSKY 77

abroad a few months after her arrival. How-
ever, before we parted, she had learned Swedish
enough to read all my works. Immediately
after her arrival she began to learn the language,
and kept studying it from morning till night
for several weeks. When my brother said to
her that he was going to give a party to his
scientific friends, in order to introduce them to
her, she answered, * Wait a fortnight, till I can
speak Swedish/

This seemed rather bold, but she kept her
word. At the appointed time she could speak
a little, and already during the first winter she
acquainted herself with our whole modern litera-
ture, and read ' Frithiof s Saga ' with delight.

This extraordinary talent for languages, how-
ever, had its limitations. She used to say
herself, that she had no particular gift that way,
and that it was only ambition and necessity
that made her learn them so quickly. And
indeed, though she learned many languages,
she never acquired perfection in any, but always
stopped at a certain point. Though she was
very young when she went to Germany, she
spoke very broken German, and her friends
often laughed at the funny words she concocted.
In her flow of eloquence she never stopped to

/8 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

choose the most correct expression, and she
forgot quickly. After having learned Swedish
she nearly forgot her German, and after a few-
months' absence from Sweden her Swedish used
to be miserable. Moreover, with language as
with everything else, much depended on her
personal mood. When tired and indisposed
she had difficulty in finding words, but when in
high spirits she expressed herself with ease and
elegance.

She often regretted that she could not speak
Russian with her intimate friends in Sweden, as
it prevented her from expressing the most
delicate shades of her thoughts. In Russia it
was as if she had escaped from a kind of prison,
where her best thoughts had been kept under
lock and key. At the same time her country-
men censured her style, because of certain
foreign elements in it.

In February 1884, I went to London, and did
not see Sonia again till September the same
year. 1 received only one letter from her, in
which she gives the following description of her
first winter in Stockholm : —

* What shall I tell you about our life in Stock-
holm ? Though not very eventful, it has been
animated enough, and of late rather fatiguing.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 79

Suppers, dinners, soirees continually. It was
rather difficult to attend all, and yet find time
for preparing lectures. We stopped to-day for
a fortnight's Easter holidays, and I am as glad
as a schoolgirl. The term will soon be at an
end, and then I hope to go to Berlin by St
Petersburg. My plans for the next winter, of
course, are unsettled, they do not depend upon
myself

' As you may imagine, everybody talks of
you, and wants to hear about you. Your letters
are read and commended ; they create a regular
sensation. The leading ladies of Stockholm
seem to lack interesting and exciting subjects of
conversation, and it is a charity to provide them
with such matter. I am looking forward to and
at the same time trembling for the fate of your
play.'

In April, Sonia brought her course of lectures
to a close, and went to Russia. She writes
from there to Mittag Leffler : —

'April 29M, 1884.

* ... It appears a century since I left Stock-
holm. I shall never in my life be able to show
or tell you my gratitude and friendship for you.
It seems that I have found a new home-country

80 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

and a new family in Sweden at the very moment
when I was most in need of it. . . .'

The lectures which Sonia had delivered at
the University that winter — in German — had
been of an entirely private nature, but they had
been so highly appreciated that it became
possible to Mittag Leffler privately to collect
the means necessary to secure her appointment
to the professorship for five years. A number
of private persons undertook to contribute
2000 kroner a year (about ;^iii), the University
added a similar sum, so that a salary of ;^222
was offered to Sonia.

Her pecuniary situation no longer allowed
her to do the work for nothing, as she had been
liberal enough to offer at first. But it was not
the financial question which caused difficulties.

There was opposition to overcome which
arose from many sides against the admission of
women to the post of professors in the Uni-
versity. The case was unprecedented, as no
other University in the world had granted this
privilege as yet. At the end of the five years,
however, Mittag Leffler succeeded in his efforts :
Sonia was nominated for life. (Only a year
later death put a sudden end to her career).

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 8 1

On the 1st of July 1884, Mittag Leffler had
the pleasure of telegraphing to Sonia, who was
in Berlin at that time, that she had been called
to the professorship for five years. She answered
the same day as follows : —

'Berlin, July \st, 1884.

Ч . . I need not tell you the joy it gave me to
receive your telegram and Uggla's. I may con-
fess now, that up to the last moment I did not
believe that the thing would come to pass. I
kept fearing that some unforeseen difficulty would
turn up, as so frequently happens in this life, and
that all our plans would finally collapse. And,
indeed, I have not the slightest doubt that my
success in this matter is due only to your perse-
verance and energy. 1 now wish, with all my
heart, that I may have sufficient strength and
capacity to do my duties to the utmost, and to
support you well in all your enterprises. I trust
firmly in the future, and I am happy at the pro-
spect of working v/ith you. What a chance that
we have met one another in life. . . . ; ' and in
the same letter, . . . ' Weierstrass has spoken to
several persons in the university with regard to
my wish of attending lectures here. There is
some hope that the matter may be arranged, but

82 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

not this summer, for the present Rector is
an ardent reactionary on the woman question. I
hope I shall succeed in obtaining admission in
December, when I shall be back here for my
holidays. . . .'

We see that while the Stockholm University
had already accepted Madame Kovalevsky as
professor, the mere fact of her sex still excluded
her from even hearing university lectures in the
German capital.

Anybody else no doubt would have felt some
uneasiness at the uncertainty of the position she
now accepted ; but Sonia never was anxious
about the future. If the present satisfied her
she did not claim any more, and at any time
she would have been ready to sacrifice a glorious
future, if for that price she could have bought
happiness for the time being.

Before going to Berlin that summer Sonia had
visited her daughter, who was staying with a
friend in Moscow. From there she wrote to
Mittag Leffler in a way which explains her views
regarding her maternal duties, and the conflict
between her obligations as a mother and as a
public person.

' MosKOW, June ^rd, 1884.
*. . . I have received a long letter from Т., in

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 83

which she insists on my taking my child with
me to Stockholm ; but in spite of all the reasons
that might make me wish to live with my little
girl, I have almost made up my mind to leave
her in Moscow. I do not think it would be to
her interest to take her away from this house
where she is so comfortable. In Stockholm no
house is ready to receive her, and I shall be
obliged to devote all my time and energy to my
new duties. She mentions among other reasons,
that many persons will accuse me of indifference
towards my daughter ; very likely, but I confess
this reason has no value in my eyes. I am ready
to submit to the judgment of Stockholm ladies
in all small matters of life, but in serious ques-
tions, where not only my own but my child's
welfare is concerned, I think it would be an un-
pardonable weakness to be influenced even by
the shadow of a wish to appear a good mother
in those ladies' eyes.'

After her return to Sweden in September, Sonia
settled down for a time in Soedertelje, in order
to find undisturbed leisure to finish an important
work she had commenced many years previ-
ously, upon the refraction of light in a crystal-
line medium. Mittag Leffler and a young

84 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

German mathematician, with whom Sonia had
made acquaintance in Berlin, were also staying
there ; the latter helped her with the German
edition of her work.

On visiting her there after my return from
abroad, I was struck by finding her look younger
and prettier than before. First I thought it was
because she had left off mourning, for black did
not suit her at all, and she hated wearing it.
The light blue dress set off her complexion to
great advantage, and she had curled her rich
chestnut hair.

But the change was not outward only. I even
noticed that her sadness had given way to the
overflowing gaiety which was the other side of
her character, and which I saw for the first time
now. During these periods she was exuberant
with life and spirit ; half sarcastic, half good-
natured jokes were showering down constantly ;
she would fling out the boldest paradoxes, and
if you were not quick of retort you had better
hold your tongue on those occasions, for she did
not leave you time for reflection.

At the same time she was preparing her
lectures for the next term, which she delivered
before the young German, whom she called her
experimental rabbit (Versuchskaninchen), a part

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 85

which, as a rule, had fallen to the share of Mittag
Leffler.

Her high spirits continued during the autumn ;
she went much into society, and everywhere
formed the centre of a large circle.

There was a strong sarcastic element in Sonia's
nature ; she was a worshipper of genius and
intelligence, and despised mediocrity. But, at
the same time, she was endowed with the poet's
understanding and sympathetic feeling for all
life's conflicts, even the most insignificant. She
listened with encouraging interest to all her
friends' concerns, whether household troubles or
questions of dress, etc., etc.

It was frequently said that she was as simple
and unassuming as a school girl, not thinking
herself superior to any other woman ; but this
was a mistake. Her openness was only apparent,
in reality she was very reserved ; but the
elasticity of her manners and of her intelligence,
her desire to please, and her psychological
interest for all that was human, gave her the
sympathetic appearance which attracted every-
body. She very rarely vented her sarcasm on
persons inferior to herself, unless she disliked
them very much, but she gave it free play with
those whom she considered her equals.

86 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

However, she had soon exhausted society life in
Stockholm ; after a very short time she declared
that she knew everybody by heart, and she
began to long for new excitements. It was her
misfortune that she could never feel contented in
Stockholm, and perhaps nowhere in the world ;
that she constantly wanted stimulus for her
mind. Everyday life, with its grey monotony,
was hateful to her ; she was a gipsy-nature, as
she used to say herself, and did not feel capable
of cultivating civic virtues.

She attributed this peculiar temper to her
descent from a gipsy girl, whom her great grand-
father had married. It was a characteristic of
her intelligence as well ; she was of a very recep-
tive, as well as highly productive, nature, and
required stimulation from the genius of others,
in order to produce something herself. Her
scientific work, indeed, was only a development
of her great master's ideas.

And in her literary productions, too, she
absolutely needed exchange of ideas with others
who were occupied with the same kind of work.
In fact, life in a small town like Stockholm was
too stagnating for her ; she could only thrive in
large European capitals.

This year — 1884 — she spent Christmas in

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 8/

Berlin, and it was on her return from that visit
that I first heard her utter the sentence, which
afterwards she repeated every year, and which
pained and wounded her friends : ' The way
from Stockholm to Malmo appears to me one of
the finest railway lines I have ever seen ; but the
way from Malmo to Stockholm, the ugliest,
slowest, dreariest journey I know/

My heart shrinks when I think how often she
had to make that journey with ever increasing
bitterness, till at last it led her to her grave.

A letter to my brother that Christmas shows
how deeply melancholy her general disposition
was, in spite of all outward gaiety. Her friends
relate that during this visit to Berlin she was
more cheerful than they had ever seen her. She
regretted that in her youth she had neglected all
entertainments usually enjoyed by young people,
and now she was going to have compensation
So she began to take lessons in dancing and
skating. As she did not wish to exhibit her first
attempts on the ice in a public place, one of her
friends and admirers arranged a private skating
corner for her in his own garden in a modern
suburb of Berlin. The dancing lessons went on
in the same way, in a private room, with a few
admirers as partners. She hurried on from one

88 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

pleasure to another, and was much courted,
which always pleased her.

But this cheerfulness did not last long. After a
month, it was already succeeded by melancholia,
caused partly by the news of her sister's illness,
partly by a little love affair, which, as usual,
turned out unhappily for her. This lay really at
the bottom of her high spirits, as well as of her
depression.

On December 27th, she writes : —

' I am very low, for I have received bad news
from my sister ; her illness makes awful pro-
gress. Now her sight is affected ; she can
neither read nor write. It all comes from the
same source — weakness of the heart, which
causes partial congestion of blood and paralysis.
It makes me tremble to think of the awful loss
that may be in store for me in the near future.
How horrid life is, and how stupid it is to con-
tinue to live. To-day is my birthday, I am
thirty-one,* and it is dreadful to think that I
may have to live perhaps as many years more.

* In plays and novels, things are arranged much
more conveniently ; if a person finds that life
has lost its value to him, somebody or something
turns up that helps him to pass quickly over

* She was two or three years older.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 89

the border into another world. In this respect,
reality is very inferior to fiction. There is so
much talk about the organic perfection which
the living creatures have gradually developed
in themselves by natural selection, etc. I really
think the most desirable perfection would be
the gift of dying quickly and easily. Evidently
man has degenerated. Insects and animals of
lower order can never make up their minds to
die ; it is appalling how much an infusory can
suffer, without ceasing to live. But the higher
you ascend through the scale of living creatures,
the easier and quicker you will find the transition.
For a bird, a wild beast, lion or tiger, almost
every illness is mortal ; either full enjoyment
of life, or death — no suffering. But the highest
creature, man, again resembles the insect on
this point : their wings may be torn off, their
limbs crushed, legs broken, etc., and yet they
do not die !

* Pardon me for writing so sadly to you to-day;
I am in a very black mood, and what is worse
I feel no desire for work. I have not had the
energy to begin preparing my lectures for the
next term, though I have been dreaming a
good deal about the following problem' (here
follows a mathematical question).

90 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

I shall quote one more passage from the same
letter :—

' Your sister sent me as a Christmas gift, an
article by Strindberg, in which he proves, as
clearly as twice two make four, that a female
professor of mathematics is a monstrous thing,
a nuisance, most unpleasant and unprofitable.
After all, I think he is right; I only protest
against the idea that Sweden possesses a
large number of mathematicians superior to
myself, and that I have only been elected from
motives of gallantry/

VIIT

SPORTS AND OTHER PASTIMES

Among the skaters who crowded on Nybrovike
and the royal skating place on Sheppsholm
the following winter, you might have seen a
little lady in a tight-fitting, fur-trimmed mantle ;
she was short-sighted, held her hand in her
muff, and advanced carefully on her skates by
the side of a tall gentleman with spectacles,
and an equally tall, thin lady, who did not
skate very well either. They always talked
eagerly, and sometimes the gentleman would
draw mathematical figures on the ice — not with
his skates — he did not master the art sufficiently
for that — but with his walking stick, and the
small lady would stop, and look on attentively.
They came from the University, where one of
them had been lecturing, and some scientific
question had caused an eager discussion, which
continued while they were skating. Now and

92 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

then the lady would give a little shriek, and
ask to be spared mathematics on the ice, because
it made her lose her balance. Or the two ladies
would exchange psychological observations, or
tell one another their plans for novels or plays.
Sometimes they would quarrel about their skill
in skating, and willing as they were otherwise
to acknowledge one another's merits, in this case
alone, neither would ever give precedence to the
other. In fact, Sonia seemed prouder of every
little progress she made in skating, than of her
scientific triumphs.

The two ladies would even sometimes appear
at the riding school. Of course everybody
noticed the famous Madame Kovalevsky where-
ever she appeared ; but one could not help
wondering at her childish behaviour on these
occasions. Though she seemed to take great
interest in riding, she had not the slightest turn
for it. She lost her self-control on horseback,
screaming loudly as soon as the horse made the
slightest unexpected movement ; and though she
always got the quietest horse that was to be
had, it was the animal's fault, not her own, if
she did not ride well — it had been restive, or
jolted, etc. To trot for ten minutes at a time,
was all she ever could accomplish, and often,

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 93

when the horse had just started, she would call
out breathlessly in her broken Swedish : — ' Dear
Mr N. N. do stop him ! '

However, anybody who did not know this,
would think her a great rider, from the way
she talked about her horsemanship.

In a letter to a friend and admirer in Berlin,
who had taught her dancing and skating, Sonia
describes her life in Stockholm in the winter of
1885 :—

' Dear Mr W., 1 feel very guilty not to have
answered your kind letter before. My only
excuse is, that my time has been taken up
of late by the most heterogeneous occupations.
I shall tell you what I have been doing.

* First of all, I have to prepare three weekly
lectures in Swedish ; I am lecturing about the
algebraic introductions to the theory of the
Abel-functions, which everywhere in Germany
are considered the most difficult subjects. I
have a large attendance, and till now have kept
all my hearers ; only two or three have fallen off.

' 2. I have written a Httle mathematical essay,
which I am going to send to Weierstrass, asking
him to have it published in Borchardt's Journal.

' 3. Mittag Leffler and I have commenced a
very important mathematical work, from which

94 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

we anticipate great satisfaction and success.
However, this is a secret, and you will please not
mention it.

' 4. I have made the acquaintance of a very
amiable person, who has just arrived from
America, and who is now the editor of the
greatest Swedish paper. He has persuaded me
to contribute to it, and as I cannot see any of
my friends do a thing without being tempted
to do the same (which you have probably
noticed), I have written some short articles
for him. At present, only one of them has
appeared in print, and I send it to you, as
you know Swedish well enough to understand it.

'5. (Last, not least.) Can you imagine —
improbable as it may appear — I have become
quite a clever skater. Till the end of last week
I have been practising almost every day. I
am very sorry that you will have no opportunity
of seeing how well I skate now. At every step of
progress I thought of you. I can even skate
backward quite easily. My friends here are
surprised to see how quickly 1 have learned
this difficult art.

' Now that the ice is gone, and I have begun to
ride, my friend and I enjoy it very much.
During our Easter holidays, we mean to ride

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 9S

an hour daily at least. I don't know which
I prefer, riding or skating.

'But this is not all. On the 15th of April,
we are to have a great public festival — a genuine
Swedish entertainment, it seems — a kind of
bazaar. A hundred ladies are to appear in
different costumes, and to sell a variety of things,
in order to provide funds for building a National
Museum. I am to be a gipsy of course. Five
young ladies are to join me in a band, and
we are to have a tent with five young men
to help us.

'What do you think of my frivolity, dear
Mr W. ? This evening I am to have a party
in my own little home, for the first time in
Stockholm.'

In spring the same year, the question arose of
appointing Sonia as Professor ad interim of
Mechanical Philosophy, during the severe illness
of Professor Holmgren.

In June, Madame Kovalevsky started for
Russia, where she meant to spend part of the
summer in St Petersburg with her suffer-
ing sister, part of it in Moscow and its
neighbourhood with her friend and her little
daughter.

I was in Switzerland with my brother, and

9б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

we had asked her to meet us there. She
answered as follows : —

' My Dearest Ann Charlotte,— I have
just received your kind letter. You cannot
imagine how I should like to start at once and
meet you in Switzerland, and how I should
enjoy climbing the Alps with you. I quite
realise the pleasure it would have been, and
what happy weeks we might have spent together.
Unfortunately, many reasons retain me here, one
more stupid than the other. First of all, I have
promised to stay till the ist of August, and
though it is my principle that man is above his
word, old prejudices are so strong with me that
I always hesitate to carry out my theories ; so,
instead of being the mistress, I become the
slave of my word.

' . . . Your brother, who indeed knows and
judges me very well (though we must not tell him
so, as it would flatter his vanity too much), has
often said that I am very impressionablCj and
that 1 am always guided by the impulse of the
moment. In Stockholm, where I am looked
upon as a champion of women's rights, I
usually think that it is my greatest and absolute
duty to cultivate my genius. But I humbly

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 97

confess that here, being introduced to every
new acquaintance as " Faufi's Mamma" is so
great a blow to my vanity, that it calls forth
an abundance of feminine virtues of which you
would never think me capable.

'All these influences, which at present rule
your poor friend, are strong enough to keep me
back here, at least till the 15th of August. The
only thing I may hope to do is to meet you in
Normandy, and to go to Aberdeen with your
brother. Write soon to me, dear kind Ann
Charlotte. How happy you are, and how I
envy you.

' I shall do what I can to meet you in
Normandy. — Bien a toi !

* SONIA.'

Sonia's plans of going to Normandy and
Scotland came to nothing. She remained the
whole summer in Russia, and we did not meet
again till September in Stockholm.

Part of a letter from Madame Kovalevsky to
her friend Mr W., in Berlin : —

^ . . . I am living with my friend, Julia L., at
a small property of hers near Moscow. I have
found my daughter cheerful and in good health.

98 SONTA KOVALEVSKY

I cannot tell which of us, mother or child, was
the happier when we met again. Now we
shall not part, at least not for some time to
come, for in the autumn she is to join me in
Stockholm. She will soon be six years old, and
is a sensible little girl for her age. People say she
resembles me very much, and I fancy I looked
like her when I was a child. My friend is very
depressed, as she has just lost her only sister.
Therefore our home is very quiet and sad. We
are surrounded by ladies, four old maids ; as
they all wear deep mourning, the house seems
like a nunnery. As in a convent, eating is a
very important business here : four times a day,
tea with cakes, sweets, sugared fruits, etc., which
helps to kill the time. However, I try to bring
a little change into this monotony, so to-day
I persuaded Julia to take a drive with me, all
by ourselves. 1 assured her that I could drive
perfectly well, so the coachman was left at home.
And indeed we arrived all right at our destina-
tion, but on our way home the horse shied,
the carriage was flung against a tree, and we fell
into the ditch.

' Poor Julia hurt her foot badly, and I, the
guilty person, escaped unhurt from the adven-
ture. . . .'

тх

VARYING MOODS

During the following winter the sentimental
element became prominent in Sonia's inner life.
She found nothing more to attract her in society ;
her thoughts were not absorbed by much work ;
her lectures did not interest her particularly, and
under such circumstances she was always given
to dark moods ; she would brood over her fate,
and grieve that life had not offered her what she
wanted beyond everything.

She no longer insisted upon her former idea,
that humanity was divided into two exact halves,
and that one love only ought to be decisive for
our whole life. She raved about a union be-
tween man and wife, in which the intelligence of
each supplemented that of the other, so that
co-operation between the two should be neces-
sary for producing the ripe fruit of their genius.
It was her great object to realise this ideal for

lOO SON I A KOVALEVSKY

herself, and she dreamt of finding the man who,
in this sense, might become her second self.
The thought that she would never meet this
man in Sweden, made her feel a certain discon-
tent with this country, to which she had come
with such bright hopes and anticipations.

Mathematician as she was, the aim and end of
life could not be found in abstract science by a
character like hers, which was so passionately
personal in all its tendencies.

When she argued about these ideas with
Mittag Leffler, he used to call them an outcome
of feminine weakness, and to say that a genius
was never to such an extent dependent on
others. However, she insisted and quoted many
men who had found their highest aspirations in
their love for one woman. It is true, most of
these men were poets, and it was rather difficult
to find examples among men of science ; yet,
Sonia was never at a loss for proofs ; where
facts were wanting her imagination would come
to the rescue, and she certainly showed how the
sense of solitude had been the greatest trial to
all deep natures, and how man, whose highest
dream of happiness was to live in fullest intimate
harmony with another being, always in his inner-
most self was doomed to solitude.

SON I A KOVALEVSKY lOI

I remember particularly the spring of 1886.
Spring-time was always trying to Sonia ; this
season of fermentation, growth, and restlessness
used to oppress her, make her nervous, impatient,
and over-sensitive. The long days enervated
her, while I used to love them. The constant
light, she used to say, seems to promise so much,
and yet to give so little, because the earth re-
mains cold. Summer vanishes quickly like a
phantom, you cannot keep it in your grasp.
She could not work, and kept insisting that
work in itself, especially scientific production,
had no value, could give no joy, nor yet promote
the happiness of men. It was folly to lose one's
youth in work ; it was a misfortune, especially
for a woman, to have a natural gift for science,
as it would draw her into a sphere where she
could never find happiness.

As soon as her term in Stockholm was over
she hurried abroad, and went first to Paris,
where she wrote me one single letter. Contrary
to her habit, it was dated.

* 142 Boulevard de l'Enfer,
'УгтегЫк, i886.

* Dear Ann Charlotte,— I have this mo-
ment received your letter. I blame myself

102 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

dreadfully for not having written before. I am
quite willing to confess that I was a little jealous,
and that I thought you did not care for me at
all. As I wish my letter to start to-day, I
can only write a few lines to tell you that you
are very wrong in supposing that I forget you
when I am away. Perhaps I have never realised
as I do at present, how fond I am of you and
your brother. At every pleasure I enjoy, my
thoughts naturally turn to you. I am enjoying
myself very much here, for all the mathema-
ticians make a great fuss about me ; still I am
longing for a wicked brother and sister, who
have become quite indispensable to my life. I
cannot leave Paris till July the 5th, so I cannot
be in Christiania for the opening of the Natu-
ralists' Congress. Can you wait for me (in
Copenhagen), so that we may go together .-*
Please answer immediately. I have given your
book to Jonas Lie ; he speaks of you with much
friendship. When he called he had not yet
read your book. He thinks you have more
talent for novel-writing than for the drama. I
shall see him once more before leaving. I em-
brace you tenderly, and am longing to see you
again, my dear dear Ann Charlotte. — Ever yours,

' SONIA.'

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I03

As usual, she could not tear herself away from
Paris till the last moment, so that she only
arrived in Christiania on the last day of the
naturalists' meeting. I was accustomed to
violent ups and downs in her moods, but this
time the contrast was very striking between her
spirits now and her depressed humour during
the first months of the year, and particularly
during the previous spring in Stockholm. She
had lived much with Poincare and other great
mathematicians in Paris, and this intercourse
had revived her energy for work, and encouraged
her to try the solution of the problem which was
to create her greatest fame, and procure her the
first prize from the French Academy of Science.

And now science had become the only thing
in the world worth living for ; everything else-
personal happiness, love, nature — was worthless ;
search for scientific truth was the most beautiful
object in life, and exchange of ideas with your
equals, without personal tie, was the most glori-
ous thing in the world.

The creative spirit was over her, and she had
again one of her brilliant periods, when she was
all beauty, genius, sparkling life.

She arrived in Christiania at night, after three
days' voyage from Havre. She had suffered

104 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

awfully from sea-sickness the whole time, but
untiring as she was when her spirits were up,
next morning, after a few hours' sleep, she was
ready to start on an excursion and to attend a
festival, which went on till late the following
night.

Many speeches were made in her honour on
this occasion, and all the most distinguished
persons crowded round her. On this day, as
usual under similar circumstances, she was so
amiable, modest, and gentle, that she won all
hearts.

From Christiania we travelled some days
together through Thelemarken, where we visited
Ullman's Popular High School, for which Sonia
showed warm interest. This visit gave her the
first impulse for a scries of articles about these
peculiar Scandinavian high schools, which she sent
to a Russian periodical, and which proved such
a success that the number of subscribers to the
paper increased considerably.

From Siljord we started on foot, and climbed
one of the mountains ; probably the first ex-
pedition of this kind Sonia had ever made. She
was bold, quick, and untiring, delighted with the
scenery, full of joy and life. She was fond of
Nature in her own way ; she felt the charm and

SONIA KOVALEVSKY TO5

poetry in a landscape. But her sight was very
short, and she did not wear spectacles, partly
from feminine coquetry, and partly from fear of
looking like the traditional blue stocking, and so
could not take in the details of the surrounding
Nature. If, nevertheless, in some of her works
we find not only very fine pictures of landscape,
its general impression, its soul, so to say, but
also a true rendering of its details, this was owing,
no doubt, more to abstract knowledge than to
personal observation. She was well grounded in
natural history, had helped her husband in trans-
lating Brehm's 'Birds,' and had shared his
studies of palaeontology and geology. She had
also had much personal intercourse with the
most distinguished contemporary naturalists.
But, after all, her taste depended very much
on her mood. When in good spirits, the most
uninteresting landscape became beautiful in her
eyes, and when out of humour she was perfectly
indifferent to the finest effects of colour and line.
On the whole, she lacked a just eye for pure
symmetrical form, for harmony, proportion,
colour, and other objective phases of beauty.
Thus, if a person was sympathetic to her, or
possessed some of the qualities she parti-
cularly admired, she would consider him or

I об SONIA KOVALEVSKY

her good-looking, while others were ugly who
might not deserve this qualification. As a rule
she admired fair people, seldom dark ones.

I cannot help mentioning here that she lacked
all sense of art in a remarkable degree, quite
astonishing in a person of her extraordinary-
cleverness. She had spent years in Paris without
once visiting the Louvre ; neither pictures,
sculptures, nor architecture, ever attracted her
attention.

However, she was highly charmed with
Norwegian scenery, and liked the people as well.
We had planned a long journey in Norway, and
a visit to the poet Alexander Kielland ; but
though she had been looking forward to this for
years, she changed her mind all of a sudden.
The creative spirit had come over her, and she
could not resist its powerful voice. We were
just crossing one of the Norwegian lakes, when
the idea seized her that she must set to work
immediately ; so she took leave of me, and went
on board another steamer, which took her to
Christiania, and from there to Sweden.

I could neither object nor blame her ; still it
was a great disappointment to me. I continued
the journey with a chance companion, visited
Kielland, returned eastward, and attended a

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 107

festival at a popular high school. All this, no
doubt, would have given Sonia as much pleasure
as it gave me, if her mind had been disengaged.

I noticed these sudden changes in my friend
more than once. She might be in the midst of the
most lively conversation at a party or on a journey,
apparently quite absorbed by her surroundings ;
when the working fit seized her she became
quiet, her eyes wandered, her answers showed
that her mind was absent ; she would say good-
bye, and no persuasion, no previous appointment,
no regard for anything else, could induce her to
remain.

We had agreed that I should join her later on,
in the place where she had settled down, with
my brother and his family. But I had scarcely
arrived there, when Sonia was called away by a
telegram to her sister in Russia, who had been
seized by a new and severe attack of her illness.

When she came back, in September, she had
her little daughter (now eight years old) with
her, and for the first time she settled down in
apartments of her own in Stockholm.

She was tired of living in a boarding-house.
Though perfectly indifferent to home comforts,
to food and to furniture, she had a great wish to
be independent, and absolute mistress of her

I08 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

time ; and she could not bear any longer to
submit to the many restraints which are unavoid-
able when living with others. So, with the help
of friends, she took apartments, and got a house-
keeper, who was to take care of the child as well,
bought some pieces of furniture, and sent for
others from Russia. However, even this home
bore the stamp of a temporary arrangement,
ready to be broken up at any moment.

The drawing-room furniture, which had come
from Russia, was quite characteristic. It was
from her parents' house, and recalled all the
pomp and splendour of an old mansion. It had
filled a huge room, and consisted of: a sofa,
which occupied the whole length of one wall, a
corner sofa, deep arm-chairs, all of richly carved
mahogany, and upholstered with scarlet silk
damask ; however, the stuff was torn here
and there, the stuffing worn out, the springs
partly broken. Sonia meant to have it all
repaired, and the furniture re-covered ; but this
was never done, partly because, according to
Russian ideas, ragged furniture was nothing
extraordinary, partly because Sonia never felt
really at home in Stockholm. To her it was
only a station on a journey, and she did not
care to spend anything on it.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY IO9

Sometimes, when in good spirits, she would
get a fit of energy, and amuse herself with
decorating her rooms with her own hand-made
embroideries. One day she sent me the follow-
ing note : —

' Ann Charlotte, — Last night you gave me
a striking proof that critics are right in asserting,
that you have an open eye for what is bad and
ugly, but not for what is good and fine. Every
spot, every tear on one of my dear old chairs is
sure to be discovered by you, though it may be
ever so much hidden by antimacassars, but you
did not even condescend to look once at my
splendid new cover for the rocking-chair, which
tried in vain the whole evening to attract your
attention. — Yours,

' SONIA.'

WHAT WAS AND WHAT MIGHT
HAVE BEEN.

SONIA had scarcely settled down in this rather
peculiar home when she was called to Russia
once more. In the middle of winter she had to
go by steamer to Helsingfors (Finland), and
thence by railway to St Petersburg, to her
suffering sister, whose life was in imminent
danger. On such occasions she knew no fear,
and heeded no difficulties. She was devoted to
her sister, and ready to make great sacrifices
for her sake.

She left her daughter in my charge during
her two months' absence.

I have kept but one letter of this period ; it
shows how sadly she spent her Christmas that
year : —

SONIA KOVALEA^SKY III

*St Petersburg, December \Zth, 1886.

*Dear Ann Charlotte, — I arrived here
last night I can only write a few lines to-day.
My sister is dreadfully ill, though the doctor
assures me that she is better than she was some
days ago. Nothing can be more cruel than
such long, painful, and consuming diseases !
She suffers agonies, can neither sleep nor
breathe properly. ... I do not know how
long I shall have to remain here. I am
longing much for Faufi (her daughter) and
my work. The journey was very trouble-
some and slow. — With fond love to you all,
your devoted friend,

' Sonia.'

During the long days and nights she spent in
this way beside her sister's sick-bed, she
naturally brooded over many things. The
thought struck her how things were and how they
might have been. She remembered the golden
dreams with which the two sisters had started
in life, both young, good-looking, highly gifted,
and it struck her how little life had brought
them of the anticipated happiness, though it
had been rich and eventful to both of them.

112 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

Still in the innermost recesses of their hearts
there was a burning sensation of disappointed
hopes.

How very different, Sonia said to herself,
everything might have been, if they had not
both made certain fatal mistakes.

Out of these reflections was born the idea of
writing two parallel novels, which were to relate
the history of the same person in two different
ways. They were to be represented in the
prime of youth, with all its possibilities, and led
to an important crisis in life. One of the novels
was to show the consequences of the choice
they had actually made, the other how things
might have turned out if they had chosen the
reverse.

Who amongst us, Sonia reasoned, has not
a false step to repent of, and who has not wished
many a time to be able to live his life over
again from the beginning? It was this wish,
this dream, she wanted to give shape in a novel
— if she had the gift of doing it, which seemed
rather doubtful to her. So when she came
home to Stockholm, full of enthusiasm for her
new idea, she tried to persuade me that we
should write it together.

Just about this time I had commenced a new

Sophie Kovalevsky.

1887.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY II3

novel entitled, " Outside Matrimony," which was
meant to be the history of unmarried women,
of all those who for various reasons had never
had an opportunity of founding their own
family. It was to describe their thoughts
about love and marriage, the interests that
filled their lives, — in short, it was to be the
romance of all those who, according to accepted
ideas, have no romance. I meant it to be a
kind of counterpart to Garborg's ' Men Folk,' in
which he gives a similar history of bachelor life.
I had collected a number of types of single
women amongst my contemporaries, and I was
very much taken up with .my subject. Then
Sonia came with her idea, and her influence
over me was so great that she soon succeeded'
in making me desert my own child and adopt
hers. Some letters which I wrote at the time
will show the enthusiasm which filled us both
for this work : —

^ February 2nd, 1887.

' . . . , Sonia and I have conceived a

grand plan ; we are going to write a great drama

in ten acts — which is to be divided into two

parts, of which each will take an evening. The

idea is hers, but I am to work it out. It is a
H

1 14 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

most original idea, I think. One play is to
describe how things were, the other how they
might have been. In the first piece all are
unhappy, because we generally impede one
another's happpiness here in life ; in the second,
the same characters appear living for and
helping one another, forming a small com-
munistic and ideal society, where all become
happy. Don't mention this to anybody as yet.
To tell the truth, I don't know much more than
Sonia's idea ; we talked about it yesterday for
the first time, and to-morrow she is going to
explain her plan in detail ; then I shall see
whether the subject lends itself to dramatic
treatment. You will probably laugh at my
having settled the whole affair already, but that
is always my way. No sooner have I got hold
of an idea, than it grows before my eyes, and I
see the whole plan accomplished. So I imagine
Sonia and myself co-operating in a gigantic
work, which is to make its way over the whole
globe, and become a wonderful success. We
are quite foolish about it. If we succeed we
shall be reconciled to everything. Sonia will
forget that Sweden is the most petty, narrow-
minded country on earth, she will cease to
regret the loss of her best years here, and

SONIA KOVALEVSKY II5

I shall forget — well, all the things I grumble
at. . . . Very likely you think we are a couple
of children ; well, so we are. Fortunately, there
is a region, better than all countries on earth,
the realm of fancy, which is open to both of us,
where everybody can reign supreme, where
everything can be arranged according to our
own desires. ... It may be, after all, that
Sonia's plan will not do for a drama ; she
meant it for a novel, but I could not write one
after somebody else's plan, as a novel requires
much more exclusive relationship between the
author and his work and the drama.'

And on February loth : —

' Sonia is overflowing with happiness at what
she calls this new event in her life. She says
that now she can fully understand how a man
keeps falling in love with the mother of his
children. I, of course, am the mother, as it falls
to my share to bring forth the children, and she is
so fond of me that it makes me quite happy to
see her radiant eyes resting upon me. We are
as delighted with each other's company, as
perhaps two female friends have never been —
for we shall be the first example in literature of
two female collaborators.

Il6 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

' . . . I have never worked so quickly ; as a
rule, an idea must keep growing in my mind for
months before I begin writing.'

On the 9th of March we had the first reading
of our work to a familiar circle. Up to this
moment our pleasures and our illusions had
been constantly increasing. I never remember
having seen Sonia so beaming with delight.

But on hearing it read to others we were
struck by all its faults and shortcomings, and
our plays, which had been written in feverish
haste, had now to pass through the ordeal of
re-modelling.

During the whole winter Sonia was incapable
of giving attention to her mathematical work ;
and yet the term of competition for the Prix
Bordin had been fixed, and she ought to have
devoted all her efforts to the task.

Mittag Leffler, who felt in a way responsible
for her, and who thought it might be of great
importance for her to win this prize, was in
despair when every time he called he found her
in her drawing-room working at a piece of
embroidery. She had got a mania for this occu-
pation ; while her needle moved in and out
mechanically, her thoughts worked apace, and

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 11/

scene after scene unrolled itself before her
mental vision. It was quite a race betwixt her
needle and my pen, and whenever we found
that the two had arrived at the same result,
our joy was so great, that it quite compensated
for the conflicts that would arise on seeing that
our fancy had led us in different directions.

During the second writing of the last play, I
had to forbid Sonia to enter my study whilst I
was at work. Our continued collaboration in the
first part became too disturbing and exciting for
me. I lost the general view of the whole and
the intimate familiarity with my characters.

In spite of the affinity of our characters, Sonia
and I are contrasts in our methods of working.
She is like Alice (in ' The Struggle for Happi-
ness ' ), who can create nothing, embrace nothing
with her whole heart, unless she can find some-
body to share it with her. All her mathemathical
works have been produced under the influence
of another person ; even her lectures are only
delivered well when she knows that Mittag
Leffler is present.

Sonia herself often jokingly acknowledged
this dependence on her surroundings.

In Alice she describes her own character. In
the great scene with Hjalmar (ist Play, Act iii.),

Il8 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

Alice says : * Do let me show you for once what
T can be, when I feel that I am really loved. I
do not think that I am quite without attraction.
Look at me, am I beautiful ? Yes, if you
love me, I am — not otherwise. Am I good ?
Yes, when beloved, I am goodness itself. Am I
unselfish ? Oh, I can be so unselfish that I have
no thought except for somebody else. . . .'

Alice wishes to share the work to which
Charles has devoted his life, and she is in
despair when outward circumstances make him
withdraw from her. It is her absolute claim to
sacrifice all to the one great important thing : to
remain true to one's self, one's vocation, one's
love. All this is Sonia over again.

And when we see Alice in the second drama,
her violent rupture with the past, her sacrifice of
wealth anci position, in order to live in a garret
with Charles, and to work with him, — it is Sonia,
as she dreamt she should have acted, had this
happy choice been left to her.

I have no doubt that her own pen, in describ-
ing these scenes, would have given them a much
warmer and more personal colour than I have
been able to give.

Alice's dream of a ' People's Palace ' on Herr-
hamra, of a great Workmen's Association, her

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I I9

words : ' Think how differently things would
have turned out, if we had all had the same edu-
cation, the same mode of living ; if we were all
one great society of equals ; ' are they not
Sonia Kovalevsky's own dreams, her own
words ?

A friend of hers told me, after her death, that
once, when her husband had telegraphed to her
that through a successful speculation he thought
he had made a colossal fortune, she immediately
laid the plan of founding a phalanstere.

A Danish author says, in speaking of Struggle
for Happiness ' : 'I confess that I love this
remarkable drama, which proves the omni-
potence of love with mathematical stringency ;
that love, and love alone, is the essence of life,
makes for strength and growth, and even enables
us to do our duty/

On reading these lines, I only regretted that
they were spoken too late to give Sonia the joy
it would have been to her to find herself so well
understood.

The re-moulding of our work took much more
time than the first writing. It was not finished,
even, when we parted for the summer.

XI

DISAPPOINTMENTS AND CARES

Wp: had intended to spend this summer to-
gether. The new firm, Corvin-Leffler, meant to
go to Berlin and Paris, in order to seek literary
and dramatic acquaintances, which might be of
use later on, when our great work should be
ready to make its triumphant procession through
the world. However, all these illusions fell to
the ground one after another.

Our departure had been fixed for the middle
of May ; we were looking forward to it with
intense joy, as if new fields of fame and interest
were about to open to us, when once more a dis-
tressing message from Russia crossed all our plans.
Soma's sister was again in imminent danger ;
her husband had to leave her in great haste to
go to Paris. There was no choice for Sonia but
once more to undertake the sad journey to this

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 121

bed of suffering, and to abandon all thought of
pleasure and refreshment.

All her letters this summer show how depressed
her spirits were.

' My sister continues in the same state as last
winter ; she suffers much, looks dreadfully miser-
able, and has no strength to move, and yet I do
not think she is quite without hope of recovery.
She is so glad that I have come, and keeps say-
ing that she should certainly have died if I had
refused to come to her now.

' I am so low to-day, that I will not write any
more. The only thing enjoyable to think of is
our fairy world and Vse Victis. . . .'

These words refer to two new plans for col-
laboration, which we had formed in the course
of the spring.

In a later letter, she writes :

' I try to work again now, and in every free
moment, I think of my mathematical problem,
or I meditate on Poincare's essays. I have not
spirit enough for literary work — everything
seems so dull and uninteresting. I prefer mathe-
matics under these circumstances. It is pleasant
to enter into a world quite outside one's self, and
to speak of impersonal subjects. Only you, my
dear, my unique Ann Charlotte, are always the

122 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

old dear one. I cannot say how I am longing
for you. We must remain friends to the end of
our lives. What would my life be without you ? '

And in another letter :

* My brother-in-law has made up his mind to
remain in St Petersburg until my sister is able
to go to Paris with him. So I have made my
sacrifice quite in vain. If 1 knew that you were
free, I should now be able to meet you in Paris,
though, to tell the truth, the events here have
quite taken away my wish for amusement. 1
should much prefer to settle down in some place
where I might work in peace, do no matter what,
mathematics or literature, if only it could make
me forget myself and everybody else. If you
are longing for me as much as I am for you, I
should be very happy to go wherever you are.
But if your summer is entirely taken up, which
I think most probable, I shall remain here for a
few weeks more, and then return to Stockholm,
where I shall settle down somewhere amongst
the rocks and work with all my might. I am not
now going to make arrangements for pleasure.
You know 1 am a fatalist, and I think I read in
the stars that I must not expect anything good
this summer ; so it is better to content one's self,
and make no vain efforts.'

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 23

From this summer dates a humorous letter,
which I quote as characteristic of Sonia's satirical
vein. She was never very careful with her
letters or tidy with anything, so when I sent her
confidential letters, I used to warn her very
seriously not to leave them open on the table.
Once she answered as follows : —

* Poor Ann Charlotte, the fear that your letters
might fall into the wrong hands seems to have
become a chronic disease with you. The
symptoms of your illness get more and more
alarming, and I am beginning to get very un-
easy about you. I cannot help thinking that
a person with such an illegible hand-writing as
yours ought to feel at ease on this point. I
assure you, except a few persons who have a
direct interest in the matter, scarcely anybody
would have patience to decipher your pot-hooks.
As for your last letter, of course it went wrong
the first time at the post-office. When I got it
at last, with its blot on the envelope, I made
haste to spread it on my table for the inspection
of my servants and the whole G. family. They
all found it particularly well written and most
interesting. To-day I mean to pay a visit to
Professor Mouton, as I wish to speak to him
about translations from the Polish. I shall take

124 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

the letter with me and try to drop it in his recep-
tion room. That is all I can do to make your
name famous.'

When we met again in autumn, we undertook
the definite re-casting of our double drama ; but
the joy, the enthusiasm, the illusions were gone
and this last correction was quite mechanical.
Already in November, the printing began, and
at the same time it was submitted to the man-
ager of the theatre. Proof-reading took up the
last part of the autumn. Towards Christmas
the work was published. The critics con-
demned it, and shortly after it was rejected by
the theatre.

Sonia did not take the thing very much to
heart. In fact, we had both become rather in-
different to the work. We quite sympathised
in loving only the unborn generations, and in
dreaming of other works of which we hoped
greater success. There was this difference, how-
ever, that Sonia kept clinging to the idea of
collaboration, whilst I had abandoned it long
ago, though I dared not tell her so. And, who
knows, perhaps it was this wish of reconquering
myself, of recovering my independence of
thought and feeling, which ripened my resolu-
tion to go to Italy that winter. This journey

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 25

had been planned long ago, but Sonia had con-
tinually opposed it as a treason to our friendship.
The tie that bound me to her, which in many
ways was precious to me and gave me so much joy,
at the same time was becoming somewhat
oppressive. Sonia's idealist nature claimed an
entire merging into one another of two souls,
which real life seldom offers, and which she
could find neither in friendship nor in love.

Perhaps this explains to a certain extent, that
even her maternal feeling could not satisfy her
craving for tenderness. A child does not love
as intensely as it is loved ; it cannot quite take
up the interests of somebody else, it is more
passive than active in its feelings.

I don't mean to say that Sonia expected more
than she gave ; on the contrary, she bestowed
the warmest sympathy, and overwhelmed her
friends with tokens of affection. But she claimed
a full share in return, and could not be satisfied
unless she felt that she was as much to her friends
as they were to her.

This same winter had brought her a deep and
bitter grief. Her sister, to whose sick-bed she
had hurried so often over land and sea, sacrific-
ing all her own plans and wishes in order to be
with her in her last moments, had been taken to

12б SONIA KOVAT.KVSKY

Paris to iindcri^o an operation. Sonia at that
time was bound by her university lectures, still,
ifslic had been called she would have gone once
more at the risl< of losin^;- her ])osition and in-
come. But she was assured that the operation
was not dangerous, and that there was every
reason to hope for full recovery. She had
already been informed of the successful opera-
tion, when suddenly a telegram brought the
news of her sister's death. Inflammation of the
lungs had set in, and in her state of extreme
weakness the patient had succumbed at once.

As we see from Sonia's early recollections,
she had always loved this sister very fondly ; so
she felt the loss of her deeply, and grieved much
at not having been with her in her last moments.
Aniuta's fate had been bitter indeed. Once so
bright and clever, admired by all, she became
the victim of a long and painful disease. Besides,
her life had been full of disappointments, she
became unhappy in her personal relations, ham-
pered in her career as an authoress — and at last,
death, the incvital^lc, carried lier away in the
bloom of her age.

Sonia also felt very keenly, that with her
sister's death the last link had snapped which
bound her to the home of her childhood.

sr;NIA KOVALKVSKV I 27

But she had a great amount of self-control, so
in society nobody saw her real feclinr^s. She
did not even wear mourning — her sister, like
herself, had had an avcrsir>n to black, and she
thought it would have been mere conventionality
to mourn over her in that way. Tjut in her
heart she fretted and pined, and became very
nervous and irritable in consequence. She kept
hoping that her sister would find some way of
revealing herself to her, either in a dream or in
a vision. I^'or she retained throughout her life
that faith in dreams which is mentioned by her
early friend, as well as in forebodinrr.s and reve-
lations under other forms.

Indeed, .she always knew beforehand whether a
year would be lucky or unlucky to her. Thus
she was positive that the year 1887 would bring
her a great joy and a great sorrow; that j888
would be one of the happiest in her life, and
1890 one of the bitterest; 1891 would bring a
new dawn of light. l^his dawn was to be
death.

She used to have painful dreams when any of
those she loved suffered or did anything that
would make her suffer. The last few nights
before her sister's death her dreams had been
bad — to her own surprise, as the news were good.

128 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

But when the message came that she was dead,
Sonia said she ought to have been prepared for
it.

The revelation after death, which she had
anticipated, did not occur.

XII

TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT. ALL
GAINED— ALL LOST

I LEFT in January 1888, and we did not meet
again till September 1889. So scarcely two
years had elapsed ; but each of us had passed
through the most important crisis of her life
during this interval, and we were both very
much changed. We could not approach one
another as in former days, each being absorbed
in the great drama of her own life, and neither
could tell the other the whole truth about the
conflict in which she was engaged.

As I have made it my particular task to
repeat what Sonia told me about herself, I shall
follow the same rule with regard to this last
great event of her life, though my statements
in this case are necessarily less accurate ard

130 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

satisfactory, as she did not allow me now to
look into her innermost heart, as she formerly
used to do.

Shortly after my departure for Italy, she had
made the acquaintance of a man, who, she said,
was the most original and interesting character
she had ever met. From the very first, he had
inspired her with the strongest sympathy and
admiration, and by degree, this feeling had
developed into passionate love. He, on his side,
had admired her, and paid her warm attention ;
he had even asked her to become his wife. But
she felt as if he had been attracted, more from
admiration than from love, and therefore, very
naturally, she had refused to marry him ; but
now, it became her great object to conquer him
entirely, to make his affection equal to her own.
This struggle formed the whole history of her
life during our separation. She tormented him
and herself with her impossible claims, and her
passionate jealousy ; sometimes they would part
in a fury — Sonia in deep despair ; then they
Avould meet and be reconciled, only to have
the same scenes over again.

The letters to me from this period, reflect
very little of her inner life. It was her nature
to be very reserved in all that concerned her

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I3I

deepest feelings, particularly her griefs, and it
was only under the influence of our personal
intercourse, that she melted and became com-
municative. Consequently, it was not till I
returned to Sweden, that I learned what I
know about her history during my absence.
Nevertheless, I shall quote extracts from the
most characteristic parts of her correspondence
of this period.

' Thanks for your letter from Dresden. I am
always delighted to get a few lines from you,
though this letter, on the whole, made a very
melancholy impression. Well, what can we do ?
such is life, we don't get what we wish, and
what we fancy we want ; everything else, but
not that. Somebody else obtains the happiness
1 wanted, and of which perhaps he never thought.
There must be something wrong with the waiting
at life's great festival, as it seems that all the
guests get portions which were meant for
others.

' However, N. (Frithjof Nansen) seems to have
got the portion he wanted ; he is in such
raptures with his intended Greenland expedition
that in his eyes no bride could equal it. ... I
am afraid nothing could induce him to give up
travelling to the manes of the great dead, who,

132 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

according to the Laplandic legend, are soaring
over the icefields in Greenland.

'As for me, I am working hard at my
competition-problem, though without particular
enthusiasm.'

Sonia had recently made the acquaintance
of Frithjof Nansen during his visit to Stockholm,
and his personal appearance, as well as his daring
schemes, had inspired her with profound interest.
They had met only once, but the mutual
impression had been so deep, that both after-
wards thought this sympathy might have led
to a decisive result between them, if circumstances
had not kept them apart. In her next letter,
from January 1888, she writes again : 'At present
I am taken up entirely with the most deeply
interesting article I have ever read. It was
sent me to-day by Nansen, and contains the
plan of his forthcoming expedition across the
icefields of Greenland. It made me quite sad
to read it. A Danish merchant has offered
to contribute 50(X) crowns towards the expenses,
and I suppose no power on earth could keep
Nansen back. The article is so full of interest,
and so well written, that I shall send it to you
as soon as I know your exact address (of course,.

SON I A KOVALEVSKY I 33

you promise to return it immediately) ; this
article will give you an approximate idea of
the man. To-day I spoke to B. about him, and
he says that Nansen's works are simply those
of a genius, and that he is too good to be
risking his life in Greenland.'

In Sonia's next letter we notice the first token
of the crisis which was now to come. There is
no date, but it must have been written in March
the same year. She had now met the man
whose influence was to become paramount for
the last years of her life. She writes : —

' You put other questions to me ; but, as I
cannot even answer them to myself, you must
excuse my leaving them unanswered to you.
I am afraid of making plans for the future.
The only thing, alas, I can say for certain, is
that now, for ten long endless weeks, I shall
have to remain alone here in Stockholm. But,
perhaps it is as well that I should see clearly
how lonely I am indeed.'

1 had repeated to her what Scandinavians in
Rome had told me, that several years previously
Nansen had engaged himself to be married to
a German lady. To this I got the following
reply : —

г 34 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

' Dear Ann Charlotte, —

• Souvent femme varie,
Bien folle est qui s'y fie ! '

'If I had received your letter with the
dreadful news a few weeks ago, no doubt it
would have broken my heart, but now, to my
own shame, I must confess that on receiving
your warm and sympathising lines yesterday,
I burst out laughing. Yesterday, by the by,
was a bad day for me, for big M. left in the
evening. I hope some member of the family
has written to you about the change in our
plan, so that I need not enter upon this subject
to-day. I must say this change will be good
for me as well, for if M. had remained here,
I don't know how I should have worked. He is
so big, so grand (as K. justly remarked in his
speech), he occupies so much room, not only
on one's sofa, but also in one's thoughts, that
in his presence it would be quite impossible for me
to think of anything but him. Though we have
been constantly together during the ten days
he spent in Stockholm, generally by ourselves,
and talking of nothing but ourselves, with
marvellous sincerity, I am quite incapable of
analysing my feelings for him. The best

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 35

expression I can give of what he seems to me
are these excellent lines by Musset : —

* " II est tres joyeux — et pourtant tres-maussade ;
Detestable voisin — excellent camerade ;
Extremement futile — et pourtant tres-pose ;
Indignement naif — et pourtant tres-blase ;
Horriblement sincere — et pourtant tres-ruse." '

(He is very cheerful — yet very gloomy ;
Detestable neighbour — yet excellent companion ;
Extremely frivolous — yet very serious ;
Dreadfully naif — yet most fastidious ;
Shockingly sincere — yet very cunning.)

And a genuine Russian into the bargain.

' Certainly he has more original genius in his
little finger than you could squeeze out of many
others together, even if you used a hydraulic
press for the purpose. . . . So, from May 15th
till June 15th, I think I shall be in Paris, and
from thence we intend to go to Italy with M.,
and to meet you, for we have quite settled to
spend the summer there together. . . . M.'s
company always makes me wish to write novels,
for in spite of his huge dimensions (which by
the by are quite suitable to a Russian bojar),
he is the most perfect hero for a novel (of
course, a realistic one) whom I have ever met
in my life. And indeed, I also think he has
the right spirit for a good literary critic'

13б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

Our plan to meet this summer came to
nothing. Sonia joined her new Russian friend
in London, at the end of May. Later on,
she made a journey to the Hartz, in order to
meet Weierstrass, and to get his advice with
regard to the definite form of her work. In
the spring she had sent an unfinished copy to
the French Academy, requesting permission to
present a more complete solution of the question
later on, before the distribution of prizes took
place. She worked excessively during this
spring, and consequently I got but short letters.
One from Stockholm is addressed to my brother
and myself — we were together in Italy at the
time : —

'My Dear Friends, — I cannot write long
letters to you, for I work as much as it is possible
for me or any human being to work. I do not
know yet whether I shall be able to finish my
treatise or not. There is a difficulty I cannot
overcome, and I have written to Weierstrass to
ask for his help. If he cannot help me, I am
lost'

In September, she came back to Stockholm,
and throughout the autumn she lived in a state

S0N4A KOVALEVSKY 137

of over-excitement, which broke down her
strength for a long time. This year — 1888 — as
she had long foreseen, was to bring her to the
zenith of honour and fortune, but at the same
time, it contained the germs of the griefs and
troubles which overwhelmed her the following
year.

When at the solemn meeting of the French
Academy of Science, on Christmas Eve 1888, in
presence of a large assembly of the greatest con-
temporary men of science, Sonia appeared in
person, and received the Prix Bordin, which was
not only the greatest scientific distinction ever
bestowed on a woman, but also one of the highest
to which any man could aspire, that man was
near her in whose society she had found the
fullest satisfaction of all the cravings of her heart
and mind. At this moment she possessed as
much of the happiness of life as she had ever
dreamt of: the most glorious acknowledgment
of her genius, and an object of her ardent love.
But she was like the princess in the fairy-tale, in
whose cradle the fairies had put all good gifts ;
but a jealous fairy had added the one drawback,
that these treasures should always be given her
at the wrong time, or under circumstances that
prevented her from fully enjoying them. While

Т38 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

she was straining herself to the utmost to win
the prize, which it had now become a point of
honour for her to obtain, as all her friends among
the mathematicians knew that she was competing
for it, the new crisis in her personal life occurred,
for which she had been yearning so long. She
lived in a torturing conflict between the claims
of womanhood and those of science ; wearing
out her physical strength, besides, by constant
night work.

Sonia herself dimly felt, though it was not
expressed in words, that the feelings of her
friend began to cool when he saw her so entirely
absorbed by her work, just at the moment when
the bond between them seemed to be strongest.
Very likely he looked upon this work as a grati-
fication of vanity, and of a craving for honour
and distinction — an honour, moreover, which
does not help to render a woman attractive in a
man's eye. The triumphs of a singer or of an
actress often conquer a man's heart, also the
beauty of a woman admired in society ; but how
can a man's fancy be captivated by a woman
whose studies dim her eyes and wrinkle her
brow, in order that she may win laurels on the
field of science ? These were Sonia's melancholy
reflections.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 39

She felt bitterly that it was foolish of her not
to sacrifice her vanity and ambition at this
moment, in order to gain that which she valued
more than all triumphs in the world ; and yet —
she could not do it. To withdraw now would be
a striking acknowledgment of incapacity ; the
power of circumstances, as well as her own
nature, pushed her irresistibly on towards the
goal which she had placed before her eyes. Had
she known beforehand the price she would have
to pay for putting off this work till the last
moment, she would scarcely have wasted her time
on that ' Struggle for Happiness,' which rendered
her present struggle for happiness so much
harder than it need have been.

Well, she came to Paris, and received her
prize. She was the heroine of the day. There
was a succession of fetes, interviews, and visits ;
all her time was taken up. Scarcely a moment
was left for the man who had come to Paris on
purpose to witness her triumph. And so it came
to pass that the fulfilment of her heart's desire, as
well as the gratification of her highest ambition,
coming simultaneously, were both spoilt, whereas
each, coming separately, would have filled her
with intense delight.

Her friend gave her the choice between him-

140 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

self and her scientific career. It was impossible
for her to make the sacrifice ; so the crisis came,
in which the happiness of her heart suffered its
great shipwreck.

A letter from this time, written to my brother,
shows how miserable she felt : —

* Paris, Jan. 1889.

* Dear GoSTA, — I have this moment received
your kind letter. How grateful I am for your
friendship ! I truly believe it is the only really
good thing life has brought me. I feel quite
ashamed to have done so little to show how
highly I value it ! Forgive me, dear Gosta ;
really I have no control over my feelings at this
moment. Letters of congratulation are pouring
in from all sides, but, by a strange irony of fate,
I never felt so miserable as now. I am as miser-
able as a dog. No ; I hope, for their sake, that
dogs cannot be as unhappy as human creatures,
especially as women.

* Maybe I shall become more reasonable in
time, at least I shall make great efforts to get
over this state of mind. I shall take up work,
and try to interest myself in practical matters
again. Of course 1 shall be guided by your
advice. At present, all I can do is to keep my

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I4I

grief to myself, take care not to commit myself
in society, and avoid becoming the subject of
gossip. I have had -many invitations this week
.... but I feel too wretched to-day to give
you an account of all these festivities. . . . When
I come home, I keep walking up and down in
my room. I can neither eat nor sleep, and my
whole nervous system is in a deplorable state. I
don't know if I should care for a temporary dis-
pensation from official work. . . .

' Good-bye for the present, dearest Gosta. Be
always my friend ; I am deeply in need of it,
you may be sure. Give my love to Foufi, and
thank S. for all the trouble she takes with her. —
Yours, with warm affection.

She made up her mind to ask for a release
from work for the spring term, and remained in
Paris, whence she wrote to me : —

* Above all, let me congratulate you upon your
great happiness. ... It has long been evident
to me that your destiny was happiness, mine
continual struggle. Strangely enough, the
longer 1 live the more I feel inclined to believe
in fatalism, or rather, in determinism. More

142 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

and more I lose faith in the free will man
is supposed to possess. I have an almost
physical sensation of my powerlessness to
change one iota of my fate, struggle as I may.
Now I am almost resigned ; I work because
I cannot help it, but I have given up
hoping, even wishing, anything. You have
no idea to w^hat a degree I have become
indifferent to everything. . . . But enough of
this ; let us talk about other things. I am
delighted that you like my Polish story, and I
need not say how pleased I should be, if you
would translate it into Swedish. . . .

' I have also written a long tale about my
childhood and my sister, her first steps on the
literary career, and our connection with Dosto-
jevsky. . . /

In August she writes from Sevres, where she
had settled with her daughter and a few Russian
friends : —

' I have just received a letter from your
brother, telling me that I shall probably meet
you on my return to Sweden. I confess that I
am selfish enough to feel delighted at this pros-
pect. . . .

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 1 43

* I have never been in want of subjects for
novels, but at this moment they are positively
swarming in my head. ... I wonder when I
shall get time to finish all this.'

XIII

LITERARY WORK. TOGETHER
IN PARIS.

In the middle of September Sonia returned to
Stockholm, and we saw each other again after
two years' separation. I found her very much
altered. Her former cheerfulness was gone ;
the little furrow between her eye-brows had
deepened ; there was a gloom about her face ;
her eyes looked absent, and had lost their
peculiar radiance, one of her chief attractions,
and the little cast in them was more conspicuous
than before. As usual, when among strangers
she was able to hide the state of her mind, and
to appear almost as she used to be ; but to us,
her intimate friends, the change was but too
evident. She had quite lost her taste for society,
even for that of her friends. She was too rest-
less to be idle ; only excessive work could give
her a little peace.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I45

She resumed her lectures from a sense of
duty, but without interest. Literary work was
now the conductor for her consuming restless-
ness, partly because she had not yet recovered
sufficiently from her over-fatigues to enable her
to take up science. What she wrote of ' Vse
victis' dates from this time. It shows the
melancholy strain of her mind ; she meant
to relate part of her own history in this novel.
It was to be a tale of those who had suffered
defeat in their struggle for happiness. Then
she put the last touches to the ' recollections of
her childhood.' In fact we both worked ardently
for three months, though not together. It was
like a feeble echo of former days — the days of
our collaboration.

Neither Sonia nor I felt inclined to spend
Christmas at home this year. We made up our
minds to go on a journey together ; this had
often been planned, but we had never been
able to carry it out. Our choice fell upon
Paris, as the place where we should be most
likely to form literary and stage connections,
which we thought would be the best means of
diverting our thoughts from personal griefs. So
we started together in December. Neither of
us, however, expected much pleasure from this

146 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

journey ; it was only a kind of narcotic to calm
our minds. There we were, saddening one
another with our melancholy faces. We stopped
a few days in Copenhagen, where Sonia's friends
were struck by the change they noticed in her.
Her face was worn and wrinkled, and she had a
bad cough. She had caught cold during the
influenza epidemic in Stockholm, and had never
taken care of herself One day, after having
received a letter which excited her very much,
she got out of her bed where she was

о

lying with fever, put on a few clothes, went out
into a snowstorm, came home dripping wet, and
sat up late without changing her clothes.

When I besought her to take care of herself,
she answered, ' Don't be afraid, I shan't get
really ill, you may be sure. It would be too
delightful to pass away now ; I shan't have that
luck.'

Sad indeed was our arrival in Paris, which in
former days we used to picture to ourselves in
the brightest colours. Paris, Sonia's favourite
city, where she had always wished to live, was
like a dead city to her now. The letters that
had arrived gave us much to think of; Sonia's
was not from him, but from one of his friends,
and anything but satisfactory.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I47

We spent some busy, turbulent weeks in this
city, where the year before Sonia had been
overwhelmed with honours and flattery, but
where she seemed almost forgotten now. She
had had her ' quart d'heure.'

We visited friends, made new acquaintances,
and were on the move from morning till mid-
night. Yet I saw nothing of the place, no
curiosities, not even the Eiffel Tower. We only
hurried from one excitement to the other, and
frequented the most heterogeneous circles — a
most interesting mixture of types and nation-
alities : Russians, Jews, Poles, French, Scan-
dinavians, people of the 'haute finance,' of
science and of literature, exiles, conspirators,
etc., etc. Sonia, of course, paid visits to
mathematical celebrities, and received invitations
from them, but she took less interest in these
people now, as her mind was occupied with
anything but mathematics. We spent one
delightful day at the house of the Norwegian
author Jonas Lie. Indeed, he was the only
person who fully understood Sonia. We were
invited to dinner to meet Grieg and his wife,
who were just celebrating their great triumph in
Paris. Lie made a speech in honour of Madame
Kovalevsky, which touched her to tears. There

148 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

was a peculiarly genial and festive atmosphere
in our little circle ; we all enjoyed each other's
company, and felt that we were understood and
appreciated

Jonas Lie was in excellent spirits. In his
speech to Sonia he did not pay homage to the
woman of science, nor to the authoress, but he
spoke to 'little Tania Rajevski, who had won
his heart, and v.ith whom he felt deep sympathy.
He was so sorry for the child, who was longing
for affection, and whom nobody understood.
Later on, life had showered all its gifts upon
her — honour, distinction, and triumph ; but there
the child stood, still with her large wistful eyes,
stretching out her empty hands. What did she
want, this little girl ? She only wanted a kind
hand to give her an orange.'

' Thank you, Mr Lie,' Sonia exclaimed, with
her sweet voice full of emotion, ' I have received
many toasts in my life, but never one so
charming ! '

She could not say any more, but sat down and
swallowed her tears with a glass of water. On
going home that night she felt happier than she
had done for a long while.

So, after all, there was one who understood
her, though he knew nothing of her personal

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I49

circumstances, who had only seen her twice or
three times, but who, nevertheless, had learned
from her book to look more deeply into her life
than others, who had been her friends for many
years. Then there might be some satisfaction in
writing, something to live for after all.

We had to go to another party the same
evening, but as Sonia was constantly expecting
letters she could never stay away from the hotel
for many hours, so we dropped in and put the
usual question to the porter, 'Any letters?'
The next moment Sonia had grasped one and
flew upstairs with it. I followed slowly and
went to my own room, as I did not want to
disturb her ; but she rushed into my room,
threw herself on my neck, burst into tears, and
exclaimed, ' О God, I am so happy, so happy !
I cannot bear it ; I die, I am so happy ! '

The letter cleared up an unfortunate mistake
which had tortured her for the last few months
to such a degree that she had become a shadow
of herself On the following night she left
Paris, in order to meet the man on whom her
whole fate now depended.

XIV

THE FLAME THREATENS TO EXPIRE

A FEW days after Sonia had left I received a
line from her. The flame which had blazed up
so high and filled her heart with exulting hopes
was extinguished already. I have not kept her
letter, but I remember its contents.

* I see that he and I will never fully under-
stand one another. I shall return to Stockholm
and work. Work must be my only consolation
hereafter.'

And then all was over. No more letters from
her this whole winter, nor the following spring,
except a few affectionate lines in May, congratu-
lating me on my wedding. She suffered, and
she did not want to show her wound to me, who,
she knew, was happy. She could never write on
indifferent matters, so she kept silent. At the
time this silence pained and hurt me very much ;
afterwards I understood that she could not have
acted otherwise.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 151

In April, the same year, 1890, she went to
Russia. She had hopes of being made an
ordinary Academician in St Petersburg, which
would have been the most profitable appoint-
ment she could ever wish to obtain, with a high
salary and no obligations except to spend two
months every year in St Petersburg. At the
same time it was the greatest scientific distinc-
tion which could be conferred in Russia. It
would have released her from her obligations in
Stockholm, and given her the chance of carrying
out her old wish : to make Paris her permanent
residence. She used to say to me while we were
there : ' If we cannot have the best thing life can
give, a happy love, at any rate life is bearable
if it offers us the next best thing, surroundings
which are congenial to our mind. But to have
neither is unbearable.'

I knew nothing of her plans till the beginning
of June, when we met quite unexpectedly in
Berlin, where my husband and I were staying
on our way to Sweden, and where Sonia had
arrived from St Petersburg the same day. This
time I found her in the gayest humour. People
who did not know her would have thought her
perfectly happy, but I knew better ; it was her
way of hiding the wounds of her heart. She had

152 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

been much admired in Helsingfors and St Peters-
burg, had hurried from feast to feast, met a
number of highly distinguished persons, and
made a speech in the presence of a thousand
people. She assured me that she had enjoyed
herself immensely, that she was very hopeful in-
deed ; still there was something mysterious
about her, and she would not speak out plainly.
She anxiously avoided being alone with me as
if afraid of being questioned. We spent a gay
time together, talking and joking continually,
but it was painful for me to notice how excited
and restless she really was. She said nothing
about her inner life, except that she meant never
to marry.

She did not care to do like other women, who
marry as soon as an opportunity offers, giving
up their vocation and everything else. She had
made up her mind to remain in Stockholm,
either till she had got a better position some-
where else, or until she could make a sufficient
income as an authoress.

However, she made no secret of having ap-
pointed to meet M. again, and to take a journey
with him — her best friend and companion, as she
called him.

Some months later we met aeain in Stock-

1890.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I 53

holm, where she arrived in September for the new
term. But her high spirits were gone, she was
restless and depressed. I was not allowed to
look into her heart, and she systematically
avoided being alone with me. On the whole,
she seemed rather indifferent to all who used to
be her intimate friends. Evidently her soul was
elsewhere, and she looked upon these months in
Stockholm as a kind of exile, eagerly anticipat-
ing the Christmas vacations, when she would be
able to go away again. The fact was, she could
neither live with M. nor without him ; it was a
hopeless struggle indeed. She was like a plant
which is taken out of its proper soil, yet cannot
thrive in any other, and so is bound to die.

My brother, who had moved to Djursholm,
outside Stockholm, wanted Sonia to come and
live in his neighourhood, but though she was
very sorry that he had left town, she could not
make up her mind to follow his example. * Who
knows how long I shall remain here ? ' she said,
* things cannot go on as they are now,' was her
constant remark, ' and if I should happen to be
in Stockholm again next winter, I should be so
melancholy that you would not care to have me
near you.'

This intolerable state of mind made her break

154 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

ofif all her connections; she neglected her friends,
retired from society, dressed more and more
carelessly, and became indifferent to her home.
Her conversation lost most of its sympathetic
charm and sparkling life. Her usual interest in
all subjects of human thought and human life
was almost gone ; she was entirely absorbed in
the tragedy of her own life.

XV

CONCLUSION

I SAW Sonia for the last time in this life on one
of the early days of December 1890. She had
come to Djursholm to take leave of us before
starting for Nice. None of us had the slightest
foreboding that this would be our last good-bye.
We had agreed to meet in Genoa immediately
after Christmas. But this was not to be. A
telegram was to have reached us on our return
to Italy, but, owing to a mistake in the address,
we did not receive it, and so, while Sonia and her
companion were waiting for us in Genoa, we
passed through the town without knowing that
she was there. On New Year's Day, which we
had hoped to spend together, she and her friend
visited the fine ' marble garden of the dead *
in Genoa. While there, a shadow suddenly
spread over Sonia's face, and she said these
words of sad foreboding : ' One of us will die

15б SONIA KOVALEVSKY

before the end of this year ; we have spent New
Year's day in a churchyard/

Some weeks later, she was again on her way
to Stockholm. This journey, which she had
always detested, was this time not only to be the
most painful she had ever made, but also the
most fatal. Her heart bleeding with the bitter
pain of parting, feeling that these constant
separations would kill her, she sat in the railway
carriage shivering with cold. What a contrast
between the mild, fragrant atmosphere she had
left and the biting frost of the northern winter !
She detested cold and darkness as intensely as
she loved warmth and sunshine. And then,
instead of taking the most comfortable and
direct route to Stockholm from Berlin, where
she had spent some days, she chose a very
round-about way. She had heard that there
was an epidemic of smallpox in Copenhagen,
and, having a horror of this disease, she did not
want to run the risk of spending a night there.
So she chose the long, troublesome route across
the Danish islands. The constant changes on
this line, as well as the bad weather, probably
gave her the severe cold she caught on this
journey. In Fredericia, where she arrived late
at night, she could not take a porter for want of

SON I A KOVALEVSKY I 57

Danish small coin, so she had to carry a good
deal of luggage herself, and over-fatigued as she
was, shivering with cold, and deeply depressed
in mind, no wonder that she felt as if she would
collapse. On her arrival in Stockholm, the 4th
February in the morning, she felt ill. Still she
worked all the next day, and delivered her
lecture on Friday, the 6th. She never missed
a lecture when she could help it. She even went
to a party at the Observatory the same evening.
But there an attack of fever came on ; she
retired, but could not get a cab, and, helpless as
she was, never knowing her way in Stockholm,
she got into a wrong tram-car. It took her a
long time to get home by a round-about way,
and then she sat up the whole night, shivering
with fever, sad to death, feeling herself a prey to
the violent illness that had seized her. That
same day she had said to my brother, who was
the head of the University, that no matter at
what cost, she meant to get leave from her
work in April, in order to go abroad again. It
was her only comfort, when she came home in
despair, to lay plans for new journeys. In the
mean time, she meant to calm her restless mind
with work. She had several new schemes in her
eadh, and talked about them with great interest.

158 SON I A KOVALEVSKY

To my brother she explained the idea of a new
mathematical work, which he thought would have
become the most important of her productions.
Amongst several novels which she intended to
write, was one which she had already commenced,
and in which she intended to give a character-
study of her father. Another was to have the
title, ' A Nihilist,' and to contain part of the
history of Tschernyschevsky's life.

Often as Sonia had longed for death, she did
not want to die just now. In fact, according to
the friends who were living with her at the last,
she was nearer resignation than she had ever
been. She had ceased to hope for that perfect
happiness, the ideal of which had been constantly,
haunting her, but she still longed for the stray
sunbeams of it which might fall upon her path.

And, in her innermost heart, she was afraid of
the great unknown. She had often said, that
only her uncertainty as to whether the future
world brings punishment or not had prevented
her from putting an end to her present life. She
had no definite religious creed, but she believed
in eternal life for the individual, and she trembled
at the thought of it. Above all, she dreaded the
moment when earthly life would cease, and often
quoted Hamlet's words :

SONIA KOVALEVSKY I 59

* For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we nave shuffled off this mortal coil,
, . Must give us pause. . . .'

And in her lively imagination, she pictured to
herself the awful moment when, perhaps, the
nervous system is still alive and suffering, while
the body is physiologically dead — indescribable
sufferings, perhaps, known only by him who has
made the plunge into the great darkness. She
approved very much of cremation, partly because
she was afraid of being buried alive, fancying
how dreadful it would be to awake in the coffin ;
and she described the situation so graphically
that it made one shudder. However, her illness
was so short and violent, that, at the last, I do
not think she had any sense of these things.
The only words which seemed to indicate that
she was aware of the approaching end were
spoken on Monday morning, the 9th, scarcely
tvv^enty hours before her death : ' 1 shall never
recover from this illness ' ; and in the evening :
* I feel as if a change had taken place within
me.'

She was unable to speak much, for she had
violent pains, high fever, and difficulty in breath-
ing ; she was in an agony of fear, and could not
bear being left alone. The last night she said to

l6o SONIA KOVALEVSKY

a friend, who scarcely ever left her bedside :
' When you hear me moan in my sleep, do call
me, and help me to change my position, or else
I am afraid I shall be very bad. My mother
died in such a fit of agony/ She suffered from
hereditary heart disease, which used to make her
say that she would die young. However, the
post-mortem examination showed that her heart
was not much affected, although the complaint
might have added to the asthma, caused by
pleurisy.

The friends who were with her during her
illness, spoke in the highest terms of her patience
and gentleness ; she was afraid of giving the
least trouble, and grateful for every little service.
Her daughter being invited to a children's party,
she was anxious that she should not lose this
pleasure, and asked her friends to help in getting
what was wanted for the occasion. When the
little girl presented herself in the sickroom in
the gipsy costume she was to wear, an affec-
tionate smile greeted her, and her mother wished
her much pleasure.

A few hours later the poor child was called
out of her sleep, and came just in time to receive
her mother's last dying glance, which rested on
her with fond love.

SON I A KOVALEVSKY l6l

As the doctors had not thought there was any
immediate danger, and rather fancied that the
illness would be a lingering one, her friends had
thought it would be better to spare their
strength a little after several days' constant
strain, and so they had gone to take some
rest, leaving the patient in charge of an Elisa-
beth Sister.

And thus, this very night, the fatal hour
struck ! Sonia was sound asleep when her
friends left her, but about two o'clock she awoke
to the last dreadful struggle. Her agony began ;
she showed no signs of consciousness, could
neither move, nor talk, nor swallow. This lasted
for two hours. Just at the last moment one of
the two friends arrived whom the nurse had sent
for too late.

Alone, — alone with a strange nurse, who could
not even speak her language, she had to pass
through this last bitter strife. Who knows
what comfort a loved voice, a pressure of the
hand, might have been to her during these awful
two hours ? I should have wished that a priest
had read the Russian Mass to her. With her
veneration for the Greek Church, as for all her
early recollections, those well-known tones might
have been soothing to her, if she could have

1б2 SON I А KOVALEVSKY

heard them. Perhaps her trembling hands
would have clasped the cross, which has com-
forted so many hearts in the hour of death, and
which she had always loved as a symbol of
human suffering. But nothing ! nothing ! No
word of comfort, no help, no loving hand on the
feverish brow — alone in a foreign country, with
a tortured heart, hopeless, perhaps trembling for
the unknown — such was her end on earth — this
* soul of fire and soul of thought.'

Out of the hopeless gloom which, during my
first grief, seemed to surround this death- bed
now and then a ray of light would emerge.

Whether life be long or short does not signify
so much, all depends upon its fruitfulness to
ourselves and to others. And seen from this
point of view, Sonia's life was longer than most
people's ; she had lived intensely, drunk deep
draughts of the wells of joy and grief, and of
the treasures of science, had reached heights to
which only imagination can lift one ; and she
had made others share in the treasures of her
heart, her experience and her fancy. Hers was
the kindling voice which belongs to genius, if it
does not isolate itself in egotism. Nobody who
lived with her, for ever so short a time, could

SON I A KOVALEVSKY 1 63

remain uninfluenced by this wonderfully bright
intelligence and warm feeling ; it fertilised every
germ of life that came within her sphere.

Her highest aim was fellowship, spiritual
fellowship, and though she may have been too
fantastic in her superstitious dreams and fore-
bodings, certainly she had something in her of
the prophetic vision. When she looked straight
into your face, turning her short-sighted sparkling
eyes on your own, you felt that she pierced your
soul through and through. Many a time one
glance of hers would be sufficient to penetrate
the mask with which some people succeed in
hiding their real face from unsuspicious eyes,
and many a time she detected secret motives
which were hidden to all others, even to the
person in question. Her poetic gift, too, was
prophetic ; a word, an insignificant event, might
reveal a whole life's history to her.

It was her great object to find the logical
connection between all manifestations of life, as
for instance, between the laws of thought and
the outward phenomena. She could not satisfy
herself with seeing in part, and understanding in
part ; it was her delight to dream of a more
perfect form of life, where, according to the
apostle, ' we shall see no longer in part, but face

1б4 SON I А KOVALEVSKY

to face.' To see the unity in the variety was the
aim and end of all her philosophy and her
poetry.

Has she reached this end now ? Our thought
cannot fathom this possibility, but our heart
beats with a trembling hope which breaks the
point of death's bitterness.

Besides, she had always wished to die young.
Though hers seemed an inexhaustible well of
life, ready for every new impression, open to
every joy, great or small, in the innermost recess
of her heart there was a thirst, which this life
could never satisfy. As her mind craved absolute
truth, absolute light, so her heart craved absolute
love — a completeness which human life does
not yield, and which her own character in par-
ticular rendered impossible. It was this discord
that consumed her. If we start from her own
belief in a fundamental connection between all
phenomena of life, we see that she was bound
to die, not because some strong and destructive
microbes had settled in her lungs, or because
the chances of her life had not brought her the
happiness she desired, but because the necessary
organic connection between her iuward and
outward life was missing ; because there was no
harmony between her thought and her feeling,.

SONIA KOVALEVSKY 1 65

her temperament and her character. If there is
a world where these contrasts can be reconciled,
she is happy now ; if not, she has reached
harmony, in so far as in complete rest there is
harmony.

We seldom see a death call forth so great
and general sympathy as hers. From nearly all
parts of the civilised world telegrams of con-
dolence poured in. From the highly con-
servative St Petersburg Academy, of which for
the last year she had been a corresponding
member, from the Sunday School children in
Tiflis, from the Teachers' Society in Charchow
— general homage was paid to her memory.
Russian women resolved to erect a monument
on her tomb in Stockholm ; cartloads of flowers
covered the black spot surrounded by white
snowheaps in the churchyard.

But out of all these honours and incense her
image rises as on a pedestal, impersonal and in-
accessible. To posterity she appears exactly
what she did not want to be, a kind of mental
giant with unusually developed and finely
constructed brain, so far above the ordinary
proportions, that she is looked upon with more
admiration than sympathy.

Through my detailed and unveiled image of

l66 SONIA KOVALEVSKY

her life, with its shortcomings and humih'ations,
as well as with its greatness and its triumphs,
I may have reduced these dimmensions to more
ordinary proportions. But keeping in view the
task I had undertaken, to try to represent her as
I knew she wished to be seen and understood, I
have considered it very important to point out
the ordinary human features in her portrait,
which brought lier nearer to the level of other
women, making her their equal, not an excep-
tion— thus confirming the rule that the heart is
the essential part, not only in a woman's, but in
human nature, and that the ablest and the
least gifted can meet in this focus of all human
life.

LIFE IN RUSSIA

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

BY

SONIA KOVALEVSKY

EARLIEST CHILDHOOD

Tania Rajevski's first recollections were all
in one way or another connected with travels or
travelling adventures. When in later years she
would sit with her eyes closed, and recall to
her memory the first conscious impressions of
her life, she would see a broad dusty road lined
with birch trees and milestones on each side,
and a huge travelling carriage large enough for
a Noah's ark, moving slowly along on the road.
Now and then the dulness of the journey would
be relieved, by attempts to throw Aniuta's doll
out of the window, or by picking up stones. The
nights were often spent at post-stations, in
improvised beds made on hard narrow sofas,
or simply on chairs. Tania's father, Ivan
Sergejevitsch Rajevski, was a general in the
artillery, and had to travel about a good deal

I/O THE SISTERS RAJEVSTvI

on official business. On these occasions he was
generally accompanied by his family.

When Tania was five years old, the Rajevskis
resided for some time in Kaluga. There were
three children, two daughters and a son. By
this time, Aniuta, the elder sister, was twelve
years old, Fedia, the brother, three. Their
nursery was a large low room, so low, that
Njania (Russian, nurse), touched the ceiling
when she stood On a chair. All three children
slept there. Aniuta was to have shared the
room of her governess — the French scarecrow,
as they called her — but she did not want to,
and so she remained with the others.

Njania had an enormous bed, which was her
pride : it was like a mountain of pillows and
eider-downs. Now and then the children were
allowed to climb up on the top of it, and it
was their great delight to plunge down into
this feathery deep.

There was always a peculiar smell in this
nursery — a mixture of incense, tallow candle,
oil, and birch-balm, which Njania used for her
gout.

The governess never entered this room without
holding her pocket-handkerchief to her nose, to
keep out the disgusting smell.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKT 171

* You really must open the window, Njania ! '
she exclaimed in her bad Russian.

Njania takes this order as a personal injury.

' The idea ! ' she grumbled between her teeth,
* Foreign heathen ! Why should I open the
window ? The children might catch cold.'

Every morning there were skirmishes between
Njania and the governess.

It is late ; sunshine fills the room ; by and by
the children open their sleepy eyes, but they
don't think of getting up yet. The first thing
is to have a game in bed, pulling each other's
legs, chattering and fighting with pillows.

Then a pleasant smell of coffee fills the
room. Njania, who is only half-dressed, and
has exchanged her night-cap for a silk hand-
kerchief— her invariable headgear during the
day, carries in a tray with a large copper can,
and gives the children their coftee and hot buns
in bed, unwashed and uncombed as they are.
After this, they often go to sleep again, tired
with the preceding game.

Suddenly the door opens with a rush, and on
the threshold appears the angry governess.

' Comment, vous etcs encore au lit, Annette }
il est onze heures ; vous etes de nouveau en
retard pour votre lecon ! ' she bursts out im-

1/2 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

patiently. ' How can you allow them to sleep
so long ? I shall tell the general/ she says,
turning to Njania.

' Do, please, you old toady,' Njania mutters
between her teeth, when the governess is out
of the door. ' The general's own children ! why
shouldn't they be allowed to sleep as long as
they like ? Too late for lessons ! well, what does
it matter? You just wait a little, that won't hurt
you.' However, in spite of her grumbling,
Njania thinks she had better make a little haste;
and indeed, if the preparations were long, the
dressing does not take much time. Njania just
hurries with a wet sponge over their faces and
hands, draws a comb through their tangled hair,
throws on their clothes — tidy or untidy, as the
case may be, — and they are supposed to be
ready.

Aniuta goes to her lessons, the other two
remain in the nursery. Without minding their
presence, Njania sweeps the floor, making clouds
of dust fly, puts the quilts on the beds, shakes
her own eider-downs, and the cleaning process
is over. Tania and Fedia go to play on the
sofa. They are seldom taken out for a walk,
except in unusually fine weather, and on great
festivals, when Njania soes to church with them.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 73

As soon as lessons are over, Aniuta hurries
to the nursery, which she Hkes much better than
the schoolroom, especially as Njania receives
many visitors, who are fond of chatting, and
taking coffee with her.

The nursery door opens, and a beautiful young
lady appears in an elegant silk dress, with
flowers in her hair, and fine ornaments of gold
and jewels : it is Elena Paulovna, Tania's mother.
She is going to a party, and comes to say
good-bye to her children.

Aniuta runs to meet her, and covers her hands
and neck with kisses, then she examines her
ornaments. 'When I am a grown up lady I
shall be as beautiful as mamma,' she says, putting
on her mother's necklace, while she stands on
tiptoe, and admires herself in the looking-glass.

When Tania attempts to caress her mother,
or climbs on her lap, she always manages to do
some mischief, tearing her mother's dress, or
hurting her in some way or other ; then she gets
frightened, and hides herself in a corner. This
makes her a little afraid of her mother. Besides,
Njania often says that Aniuta and Fedia are
Elena Paulovna's pets, and that Tania is the
Cinderella in the family.

Aniuta being so much older than the others,

174 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKY

enjoyed great privileges ; in fact, she had her
own way in everything. She went to the
drawing-room whenever she hked, and from
her earHest childhood, was admired for her
beauty and charming manners, as well as for
her clever answers. Tania and Fedia were only
allowed to appear on festive occasions ; as a
rule, they lunched and dined in the nursery.

Now and then, Nastasja, Madame Rajevski's
maid, would rush into the nursery.

' Good Njania, be quick, put the light blue
silk frock on Fedia, her ladyship wants to shew
him to the guests/

'And what about Tania?' Njania asks in a
tone as if she knew what the answer would
be.

* Tania isn't wanted, she had better stay here,
the dirty little thing,' and the maid laughs, well
knowing that Njania will be annoyed. And, in-
deed, she feels quite cross, and keeps walking up
and down in the room, muttering between her
teeth, while she throws pitying glances at the
little girl, and now and then strokes her hair :
' Poor thing ! my poor little pet ! '

It is night : Njania has put Tania and Fedia
to bed, but she has not taken off her silk hand-
kerchief yet. this act which marks that work is

THE .SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 75

ended and rest begins. She is sitting on the
sofa with Nastasja.

The room is half dark ; only the dim flame of
a tallow candle, which Njania has forgotten to
snuff, and at the opposite end of the room the
flickering bluish light of a lamp that burns
before the imas^e of a saint, are reflected from
the ceiling, where they form all kinds of
fantastic figures, and set off very distinctly
our Saviour's hand, which comes out from
beneath his silk mantle, and is held forth to
give the blessing.

Tania hears her brother's regular breathing,
and the heavy snoring of the job-girl, Fekluscha,
with the pug-nose, who lies on the floor before
the chimney, sleeping on a grey rug, which is
spread out there at night and stowed away in a
closet during the day.

Njania and Nastasja are whispering together ;
thinking the children are sound asleep, they gos-
sip freely about domestic affairs. But Tania, who
does not sleep, listens attentively to their talk.
Much of it she does not understand, or does not
care for; sometimes she goes to sleep without
hearing the end of it. However, the scraps
which she understands impress themselves deeply
on her mind and grow to fantastic dimensions in

17б THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

her imagination, leaving indelible traces for her
whole life.

' How can I help loving her best, the little
mite?' Njania says, and Tania knows whom she
means. * Nobody but myself has ever nursed her.
It was very different with the others. When
Aniuta was born, her parents, grandparents and
aunts never tired of admiring her — of course, she
was the first. I never had her to myself for a
moment ; but it was very different with Tania.'

At this point in the oft-repeated tale, Njania
used to lower her voice mysteriously, and of
course Tania strained her ears to the utmost.

* The fact was, the poor creature arrived at
the wrong moment,' Njania said in a whisper,
' The general had lost much money at cards in
the English Club — her ladyship's jewels had to be
pawned ; how then could they rejoice that the
Lord had given them a daughter, especially as
both wanted a son ? Her ladyship used to say
to me, " You will see, Njania, I shall get a son
this time ! " And she prepared everything for a
boy — crucifix, and bonnet with blue bows ; so
when it was a girl, after all, she grieved very
much. But then, at last, when Fedia came, it
was all right.'

Owing to this and similar stories, Tania very

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 177

soon convinced herself that she was only toler-
ated in her home, and this had a great influence
on her character. She became shy and reticent.
So, when taken to the drawing-room, she would
cling with both hands to Njania's dress, and look
very sullen. It was impossible to squeeze a
word out of her, Njania might try ever so hard.
She kept casting shy glances at the persons pre-
sent, just like a hunted deer. At last her mother
would get impatient, and say to Njania, * Take
her away, I am quite ashamed of her ! '

She was also shy with other children, and
seldom had an opportuniny of seeing any.
When they were out walking she would some-
times see school-children romping about, and
ask Njania to allow her to play with them.

* What are you thinking of ? ' the nurse replied ;

* You are a lady, you can't play with those com-
mon brats ! ' And this was said with such con-
tempt and reproach that Tania felt quite ashamed
of herself. At last she lost all thought or wish
of playing with other children. When a little
girl of her own age happened to come on a visit,
Tania never knew what to say ; she only kept
thinking, ' I wish she would go.'

Her whole happiness was to be alone with
Njania. In the evening, when Fedia was in bed,

M

1/8 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

and Aniuta had gone to the drawing-room, she
crept up to nurse on the sofa, and Njania began
telHng her fairy tales. The child was deeply
impressed, and would dream of the monsters she
had heard of, the were-wolf, the twelve-headed
serpent, etc.

In fact, she was on the way to grow up a
sickly over-sensitive girl. But a new life was
500П to begin for her.

II

PALIBINO. DOMESTIC DRAMAS

When Tania was six years old, her father retired
from the service, and the family went to live
on his country estate Palibino, in the govern-
ment of Vitebsk. At this time it was generally
rumoured that serfdom was to be abolished, and
this caused Ivan Sergejevitsch to pay more atten-
tion to the management of his property, which
had hitherto been left in the hands of a steward.
On the whole a great change was to take place
with the Rajevskis. Carelessness and gaiety
gave way to a more serious life.

Up till now Ivan Sergejevitsch had paid but
slight attention to his children and their educa-
tion, as he thought that these were matters for
the wife, not for the husband. He had taken
most notice of Aniuta, as the eldest; besides, she
was clever, and he liked to show her off. When

l80 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

he heard complaints about her wilfulness and
wild spirits, he might occasionally think right to
put on a severe face, but she knew quite well
that in his heart he was amused at her pranks
and laughed at them. The little ones did not see
much of their father ; when he met them, he
would just say a kind word and pinch their
cheeks, that was all. Only on solemn occasions,
when he was to go to some official parade and
was dressed in his splendid uniform, the children
were called to the drawing-room to see ' how
fine their father was,' and this was a great treat
to them ; they would jump about and clap their
hands in delight.

But shortly after they had moved to Palibino,
an event occurred which drew attention to the
nursery in a very unpleasant way, and made a
profound impression on everybody, not least on
Tania.

Objects began to disappear from the nursery,
now one thing, now another. At first nobody
made much fuss about it, but when by and by
more expensive objects vanished, such as a silver
spoon, a gold thimble, a knife, etc., there was a
general stir and anxiety. Evidently there must
be a thief in the house. Njania, who thought
she was responsible for the children's property,

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI l8l

made up her mind to find the thief, cost what it
might

Of course, the first suspicion fell on poor
Fekluscha, the nursery-girl. Certainly she had
served in the nursery for three years and nothing
of this kind had ever been noticed ; but accord-
ing to Njania, this did not prove anything ; she
had been too young to know the value of the
objects, ' but now she is older and knows better,'
Njania would say. ' She has relations down
there in the village, to whom of course she carries
the stolen goods,' and she would treat Fekluscha
so severely, that the poor girl, feeling instinc-
tively that she was suspected, looked as if she
might really be guilty.

Closely as she observed the supposed culprit,
however, Njania could never catch her in the
very act. At the same time fresh objects dis-
appeared, and the old ones never came back.
One day Aniuta's money-box was missing, which
had its place in Njania's cupboard, and contained
about forty rubles, if not more. The news of this
theft at last reached the general's ears. Njania
was called to her master, who gave her the per-
emptory order to find the thief immediately.
Now it was clear to all that the affair had be-
come serious. Njania was in despair. Then it

1 82 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

happened one night that she awoke, hearing a
peculiar smacking sound from the corner where
Fekluscha was sleeping. A suspicion flashed
upon her ; she stretched out her hand carefully,
struck a match and lighted her candle. And
what did she see ? There was Fekluscha crouch-
ing on the rug, with a large jam-pot between her
knees, gobbling the jam as fast as she could with
a crust of bread.

It must be noticed that a few days previously
the housekeeper had complained that a pot of
jam had disappeared from her cupboard.

To rush out of her bed and seize the girl's
hair was the affair of seconds.

' Have I caught you at last, you wretched
thief! Where have you got that jam? Can't
you tell ! * She seized the child and shook her
violently.

' Oh no, Njania dear ! indeed I haven't taken
it, I assure you ! ' Fekluscha screamed. * Maria
Vasiljevna gave me the pot last night, but she
said I wasn't to let you see it.'

But Njania had her great doubts as to this
statement. * I don't think you are clever at
lying,' she said contemptuously, * why should
Maria Vasiljevna think of giving you jam ? '

' Oh dear, dear Njania, it isn't a lie ! I swear

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 183

it is the truth ; ask her yourself. I put her iron
to the fire yesterday, and then she gave me the
jam. She only said : ' Don't show Njania, she
will scold me for spoiling you.'

'All right, we shall see to-morrow morning,'
Njania answered ; and in the mean time she
shut up Fekluscha in a dark closet, where the
poor thing continued crying for a long while.

The next morning the inquiries began.

Maria Vasiljevna was a needlewoman, who
for many years had been living with the Rajevski
family. She was no bondwoman, and was
treated with much more consideration than the
other servants. She had her own room, where
she took her meals by herself, and was served
from the family table. As a rule, she was very
proud, and did not mix with the other servants.
The family valued her highly, because she was
very clever at her work ; ' she has fairy-fingers,'
they used to say. She might be about forty.
Her face was thin and worn, her eyes unnaturally
large and black. She was not good-looking, but
there was something distinguished about her, and
nobody would have taken her for an ordinary
needlewoman. She was neat and tidy in her
dress, and used to keep her room comfortable,
even with a certain elegance ; there were flowers

1 84 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

in the window, pictures on the walls, and a
corner-bracket with all kinds of nick-nacks.

Besides, a peculiar interest was attached to
Maria Vasiljevna, because of a romantic episode
in her earlier life. She had been a healthy, fine
young girl, staying as bondswoman with a lady
who possessed an estate in the country, and who
had a grown-up son. This young man was an
officer. Once, during a visit to his mother, he
had given Maria Vasiljevna some silver coins.
Unfortunately the old lady had entered the
servants' hall immediately after, and had seen
the money in the girl's hand.

' Where did you get that money ? ' she asked
severely, and Maria was so frightened that, in-
stead of answering, she put the coins into her
mouth, and swallowed them. A violent attack
of illness was the consequence, and she fell down
screaming with pain. They only just saved her
life, but she was ill for a long time, and her
beauty was gone for ever. The old lady died
shortly afterwards, and her young master gave
Maria her freedom.

Maria Vasiljevna used to pay frequent visits
to the nursery, and the children liked to go to
her room, especially at dusk, when she could not
see to work, and would sit at the window with

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 85

her head on her hand, singing old sentimental
ballads in her melancholy voice : ' Through the
dark dales/ or ' Black flower, dark flower.' It
was sad, but for Tania these times had a peculiar
charm. Now and then Maria's singing would
be interrupted by a violent cough, which shook
her whole frame as if she was going to burst.
She had suffered from this cough for years.

When, on the morning after the scene with
Fekluscha,-Njania asked Maria Vasiljevna if she
had given Fekluscha the jam, she looked utterly
astonished, as might be expected.

*0h dear, Njania, what are you thinking of.-*
You don't think I would do such a thing, and
spoil the child like that ? Besides, I have got
no jam myself,' she exclaimed in an offended
tone.

So, of course, the matter was clear; but
Fekluscha's impudence was so great that, in spite
of this, she persisted in declaring that she was
innocent.

* But, Maria Vasiljevna, for Christ's sake, have
you quite forgotten ? You called me into your
room last night, then you thanked me for the
irons, and gave me the jam,' she cried in despair,
trembling all over, as if in fever.

* You are raving, Fekluscha, you must be ill/

1 86 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

Maria Vasiljevna replied calmly, and her pale
face did not betray the slightest emotion.

There was no further doubt as to Fekluscha's
guilt. She was taken away, and shut up in a
closet far away from the family apartments.

* There you may stay, you bad girl, and you
won't get anything to eat till you confess,'
Njania said, turning the key twice in the lock.

As a matter of course, this event created a
great sensation all over the house. The servants,
one by one, paid visits to Njania, and talked it
over with her. The nursery had become a club-
room.

Fekluscha's father was dead, but her mother
lived in a neighbouring village, and was occa-
sionally sent for to help in the laundry. Of
course she soon heard what had happened, and
rushed up to the nursery, crying and wailing,
and protesting that her daughter was innocent.
However, Njania soon silenced her.

* Hush, hush, be quiet, don't make such a fuss !
You wait till we find out where your daughter
has hidden the stolen things,' she said, and
looked so severe that the poor woman was
frightened, and retired in a hurry.

Public opinion was decidedly against Fek-
luscha. * If she has taken the jam,' they said,

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI iS/

* she must have stolen the other things as well ! '
And they were the more angry with her, as these
mysterious thefts, which had been going on for
weeks, had weighed on them all alike, a heavy
burden — each being afraid that he or she might
be suspected. So this discovery was a general
relief.

However, Fekluscha could not be induced to
confess. Njania visited her several times in the
course of the day. She kept repeating, ' I have
stolen nothing, may God punish Maria Vasil-
jevna for being so bad to me ! ' In the evening,
Elena Paulovna came to the nursery.

* Are you not too hard upon that poor girl ? '
she said to Njania ; ' it won't do to leave her
without anything to eat the whole day,' she
added in a despondent voice.

But Njania would not hear of mercy.

* What is your ladyship thinking of? Why
should we pity that creature ? She has allowed
honest people to be suspected all the time, and
then it is she who is the thief after all ! ' she
answered in such a determined way, that Elena
Paulovna was silenced, and left the room without
obtaining any alleviation in the poor culprit's
fate. The following day Fekluscha persevered
in her denial, and her judge began to get a little

1 88 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

uneasy ; but at noon Njania came running to her
mistress, crying out triumphantly : ^ She has
confessed at last ! '

* Well, and where are the things ? ' was Elena
Paulovna's first question.

*That she hasn't told yet,' Njania answered
with a little hesitation, ' she talks all kinds of
rubbish and says she has forgotten, but she'll
soon remember if she has to stay some hours
longer where she is ! '

And indeed, in the evening, Fekluscha made
a complete confession, and gave a detailed
account of the whole affair. She had stolen the
things in order to sell them later on ; but as
she could not find an opportunity of doing so,
she had hidden them under a rug in a corner of
her room. At last, when the articles were
missed, and search was made to find out the
thief, she had been afraid, and wanted to put
them back in their places, but she could not
manage, so at last she had tied them up in a
handkerchief and thrown them into a deep pond.

All had been so anxious to see the end of
this painful business, that nobody thought of
criticising Fekluscha's report. The family was
vexed that the stolen goods had been destroyed,
but nobody thought of doubting the fact.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 89

The criminal was taken out of her prison, and
the following just sentence was pronounced : she
was to have a good whipping, and to be sent
home to her mother.

In spite of Fekluscha's and her mother's
lamentations and remonstrances, the sentence
was carried out immediately, and another girl
was engaged for the nursery.

After some weeks order seemed to be restored,
and the whole event almost forgotten.

But one evening when everybody was at rest,
and Njania was j'ust going to bed, the nursery
door was slowly opened, and in came Alexandra,
the laundress, Fekluscha's mother. She had
persistently denied her daughter's guilt, and had
had several skirmishes with Njania about the
matter, until at length the nurse had forbidden
her to put her nose inside the nursery.

But this time there was such a peculiarly
mysterious expression in her face, and Njania
saw at once that she had something important
on her mind.

' Look here, Njania,' she whispered, looking
round anxiously lest somebody should hear her,
and from beneath her apron she took out the
little mother-of-pearl penknife, which used to be
the children's delight, and which had been

190 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

among the stolen things, and was supposed to
have been thrown into the pond.

At this sight Njania folded her hands in
amazement. ' Wherever did you find that knife?'
she asked. ' Yes — where did I find it ? ' Alex-
andra answered slowly, then pausing some
moments and enjoying Njania's surprise. * Phillip
Matvjejitsch, the gardener, gave me some old
trousers to mend, and in one of the pockets 1
found this knife,' she exclaimed in a solemn
voice.

Phillip Matvjejitsch was a German by birth
and belonged to the upper servants ; he was
unmarried, and had a very good salary. To an
impartial eye he was an elderly, fat, rather
unpleasant fellow with reddish whiskers, but
among the female servants he was considered
good-looking.

Njania was dumfounded and did not know
what to say.

* But how is it possible ? * she exclaimed.
' Phillip Matvjejitsch never sets foot in the
nursery. How could he have got that knife ?
Besides, a man like that wouldn't think of
stealing the children's things ! '

Alexandra kept silent for some moments
looking at Njania with a long scornful glance ;

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 191

then she put her mouth to her ear and whispered
some words, in which the name of Maria
Vasiljevna was often repeated.

At last a gleam of the truth flashed through
Njania's bewildered brains.

* Oh, that's what it is ! ' she exclaimed. ' What
a hypocrite, what a wicked creature ! but wait a
little, we shall soon let everybody see what you
are ! ' She was in a fury.

Later on it appeared that Alexandra had
suspected Maria Vasiljevna long ago ; she had
noticed her flirtation with the gardener. ' It
isn't likely,' she said to Njania, ' that such a
fine fellow should make love to such an old
maid without getting something for his trouble !
Of course, she has bribed him with presents.'

And indeed, she soon found out that Maria
Vasiljevna gave him money as well as presents.
But where did she get it from? And now
Alexandra established a whole system of espion-
age upon the unsuspecting Maria Vasiljevna.

The penknife was only the last link in a long
chain of evidence. The story proved to be more
interesting than anybody had expected. Njania
was suddenly seized with the detective mania,
which often slumbers in old women ; besides, on
this occasion she was stirred by the feeling how

192 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

deeply she had wronged Fekluscha, and she was
very anxious to repair the evil she had done.
For this reason she and Alexandra concluded a
solemn offensive and defensive alliance against
Maria Vasiljevna. As both were fully convinced
of her guilt, they did not hesitate to go to the
extremity of secretly taking her keys, and
watching for the first opportunity when she was
out to search her drawers.

No sooner said than done. Alas, the result
showed that their suspicions were only too just.
The contents of the drawers proved beyond
doubt, that the miserable Maria Vasiljevna was
guilty of all the thefts that had created such
a sensation of late.

* The shameless creature ! to go and bribe
poor Fekluscha with jam in order to throw
suspicion on her ! what an ungodly wretch, not
to have the slightest pity on the child ! '
Njania exclaimed horror stricken, and quite
forgetting the part she had played herself in the
story — that it was her own hardness which had
pushed the girl to accuse herself falsely.

We can imagine the general's fury when this
painful truth came to light.

In his first flash of anger, Ivan Sergejevitsch
meant to send for the police, and to have Maria

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 93

Vasiljevna arrested ; but considering her weak
health, that she was not young, and moreover,
that she had been an inmate of the house for so
long, he had mercy on her, and contented him-
self with giving her notice, and ordering her to
be sent away to St Petersburg.

Maria Vasiljevna ought to have been satisfied
with this sentence, we should have thought.
She was so clever with her needle that there was
not the slightest reason for her to be afraid
of starving in St Petersburg. Besides, what
would her position be with the Rajevskis after
such a scandal ? All the other servants had
been jealous of her, and hated her for her pride.
This she knew, and she was also well aware
that she would have to pay for her former
arrogance. Nevertheless, strange as it may
seem, she was not at all satisfied with the
general's sentence, and she kept imploring him
to have mercy on her.

She seemed to have attached herself to the
house with a kind of feline affection, and to cling
to the room in which she had lived so long.

* I shan't live many years longer,' she said,
I feel that I shall die soon ; do they want me to
spend my last moments among strangers ? '

However, Njania felt sure that this was not

194 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

the real reason. She could not make up her
mind to leave the house, as long as Philip
Matvjejitsch remained there, for she well knew
that, when once she was gone, she would never
see him again. And of course she must be
madly in love with him, or else she who had
been an honest girl all her life would not for
his sake have committed such a sin.

As for Philip Matvjejitsch, he escaped quite
unmolested. Perhaps he told the truth, when
he said that he had not had the slightest
suspicion whence the gifts came, which he had
received from Maria Vasiljevna. At all events,
as it was no easy matter to find a good gardener,
and, as the park and gardens could not be left
to themselves, it was decided that he should
remain till further notice.

Whether Njania was right or wrong in her
supposition about Maria Vasiljevna's motives, so
much is certain, that when the day of departure
came, she went up to Ivan Sergejevitsch, and
fell on her knees before him.

' Do let me stay here without salary, punish
me as if I were a bondwoman, but don't drive
me away ! ' she implored, with tears in her eyes.

Ivan Sergejevitsch felt touched at her attach-
ment to his house, but on the other side, he

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI I95

was afraid that, if he pardoned her, it would
be demoralising for the other servants. He was
very doubtful what to do, but suddenly an idea
struck him.

' Yes,' he said, ' though stealing is a great sin,
I should have pardoned you, if you hadn't done
anything else. But through you, a poor innocent
girl • has suffered cruelly ; remember, it was
your fault that Fekluscha had to undergo this
dreadful humiliation of public chastisement. For
her sake, I cannot forgive you. So, if you
insist on wishing to remain here, I only consent
on one condition ; that you ask Fekluscha's
pardon, and kiss her hand in presence of all
the servants. If you agree to that, in God's
name you may stay ! '

Nobody expected that Maria Vasiljevna would
consent to such a condition. How should she,
proud as she was, condescend to humiliate
herself publicly before a serf, and kiss her hand
into the bargain? But to the general surprise
she did consent.

An hour later, the whole household was
gathered in the large entrance hall, in order to
assist at this peculiar spectacle : Maria Vasiljevna
kissing Fekluscha's hand. The general had
insisted on its being done publicly, in the most

196 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

solemn manner. The master and mistress were
present, and the children had begged permission
to be there also.

Tania could never forget the scene that ensued.
Fekluscha, who was quite bewildered at the
honour which befell her so unexpectedly, and
who at the same time was afraid that Maria
Vasiljevna would make her suffer later on
for her present humiliation, went up to Ivan
Sergejevitsch, and asked him to take back his
order about the kiss.

' I will forgive her all the same,' she said,
almost crying.

But Ivan Sergejevitsch, who had worked up
his mind for the occasion, and who felt convinced
that he was acting according to the strictest
justice, fired up at her : ' Go away, silly girl,
that's no business of yours ! It is not for your
sake, it is for the sake of the principle, that this
miust be done. If I had committed this sin
against you, I, your master, I should have
thought it my duty to kiss your hand. You
don't understand — never mind — go away and
keep quiet ! '

Fekluscha trembled, and dared not say any
more ; she went to her place like a criminal
awaiting his sentence.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 97

White as a sheet, Maria Vasiljevna advanced
through the crowd ; she walked mechanically, as
if in sleep, but her face expressed such firm
resolution, such hatred, that it made you shudder.
She went straight up to Fekluscha.

' Pardon me ! ' she burst out — it came like a
wail, and she seized Fekluscha's hand, and raised
it to her lips so vehemently, as if she was going
to bite her. But all of a sudden she was seized
by a convulsive fit, and fell to the ground
shrieking loudly.

Later on it was known that she had suffered
from similar attacks before, but she had taken
good care to hide these epileptic fits from her
masters, for fear that they might send her away.
And those of the servants who had known it,
had been discreet enough not to betray her.

Tania never learned what effect the present
fit had had upon the spectators, for the children
of course were taken away immediately ; besides,
the excitement very nearly made them hysterical
too.

So much the more distinctly did she remember
the sudden change that took place in the minds
of the servants. Up till now, all had felt angry
and hostile towards Maria Vasiljevna ; her
conduct appeared so mean and shameful, that

198 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

they felt a kind of satisfaction in shewing her
their contempt, and in offending her where they
could. But now it was the reverse ; all of a
sudden she had become a suffering victim, the
subject of general sympathy. There was a secret
protest against Ivan Sergejevitsch's exaggerated
severity.

* Of course she had done wrong,' they admitted,
when gossiping with Njania in the nursery,
which they used to do after all important events.
' If the general himself or her ladyship had
punished her, as they do in other houses, it
wouldn't have been so bad, anybody could put
up with that ! But the idea of making her kiss
the hand of that brat Fekluscha ! Who could
survive such shame ? '

It took Maria Vasiljevna a long time to
recover. Her attacks kept returning at intervals
of a few hours. A doctor had to be sent for.

Pity for the patient, and anger with the master,
increased among the servants. Elena Paulovna
came to the nursery where Njania was making
tea at an unusual hour. ' For whom is that,
Njania?' her mistress asked innocently.

' Of course for Maria Vasiljevna. I suppose
she must be allowed to have a cup of tea when
she is ill ? We servants, at least, have got some

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 1 99

Christian charity/ Njania answered in such a
temper, that Elena Paulovna was quite bewildered,
and hurried out of the room. And this was
Njania, who, a few hours previously, could have
almost killed Maria Vasiljevna in her anger !

After a few days, Maria recovered entirely, to
everybody's satisfaction, and she continued living
with the Rajevskis as before. No more was said
about the past, not even among the servants.

As for Tania, ever after that day, she felt a
peculiar sympathy with Maria Vasiljevna, mixed
with a kind of terror. She did not visit her as
before, and when they met in the passage, she
involuntarily squeezed herself against the wall,
trying not to look at her — she was always afraid
that Maria Vasiljevna might fall down and begin
to scream.

Maria probably noticed that the child kept
aloof from her ; and she tried every means to
win back her affection. She used to surprise
her with little presents : a fine silk rag, a new
dress for her doll, etc. But it was no use, the
secret terror remained, and Tania ran away as
soon as she was left alone with Maria Vasiljevna.

Besides, soon after, she came under the
influence of the new governess, who put an end
to her intercourse with the servants.

200 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

But one Sunday evening, when Tania was
seven or eight years old, she came running
through the passage past Maria Vasiljevna's
room. Suddenly, Maria opened her door, and
said : ' Little Miss ! just come in a moment, here
is a beautiful bird of dough I have baked for
you ! ' It was nearly dark, and the child was
alone with Maria Vasiljevna, whose white face
and large black eyes frightened her so much, that
without answering, she ran away as fast as she
could.

' Oh, I see. Miss Tania despises me ! ' she
heard Maria mutter to herself She was struck,
not so much by the words as by the tone in
which they were spoken, but she did not stop.
When she was in the schoolroom, and had re-
covered a little from her fright, Maria Vasiljevna's
deep sad voice still sounded in her ears. Tania
felt uncomfortable the whole evening, though
she tried to divert her thoughts by playing.
She could not banish Maria Vasiljevna from
her mind. She felt as we often do with regard
to a person we have wronged ; Maria had
suddenly become a dear good friend, and Tania
was longing for her.

To tell her governess what had happened was
out of the question ; children are always shy

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 20I

about their feelings. Besides, they were not
allowed to mix with the servants, so she might
perhaps even be commended for her conduct,
and she felt instinctively, that she would not
like to be praised for this. After tea, when the
children were to go to bed, the idea struck her
that she might go and see Maria Vasiljevna,
instead of going straight to her bedroom. This
was a great sacrifice on her part, for she would
be obliged to run through the long dark passage
quite alone. But a desperate courage came over
her. She ran as fast as she could, and like a
hurricane came rushing into Maria's room.

Maria Vasiljevna had had her supper, and as
it was a holiday, she was not at work, but was
sitting at her table, which was covered with a
clean white cloth, reading a religious book. A
lamp was burning in front of the Saint, and
Tania thought the room was so bright and com-
fortable, and Maria herself looked so gentle.

* I am coming to say good night, dearest
Maria ! ' Tania burst out breathlessly, but before
she had finished, Maria Vasiljevna clasped her
in her arms, and covered her with kisses, and she
went on caressing her till Tania got quite
frightened, and began to think how she might
escape without wounding Maria's feelings again.

202 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

At last a violent fit of coughing obliged Maria
to let her go.

This cough became worse and worse. ' I have
been barking the whole night/ she used to say,
with a kind of gloomy irony. And day by day
she looked paler and more transparent, but she
persistently refused to consult a doctor ; besides,
it always made her cross to be talked to about
her illness.

In this way she lived on a few years longer.
She took to her bed only two days before her
death, but her last struggle was very hard and
painful.

The general ordered a stately funeral for her,
at which the whole household assisted. Even
Fekluscha followed her to the grave, with
streaming tears.

Only Philip Matvjejitsch was missing. With-
out waiting for her death, he had left the
Rajevskis some time previously, in order to
accept another more profitable engagement.

I ni

CFfANGES

The uncomfortable epis\ode with Maria Vasil-

4vna wasi he prelude to va se ,'es rf coniplica-

4s .which induced Ivan Sei Jtsch to devote

son.actention to the nursery,' / a which, up to

that г;е, he had had very little Лэ..

IvaK^ergejevitsch made the '^^^^^cted dis-
covery яt his children we--"^e by no ^eans so
exemplary^ their сопт' ^-^u^-t as he had fancid ^.

For exanig^ on^--^ day the two girls went out
alone, and lost their way, so that they were not
found till the evening, and then they.^had eaten
poisonous berries, which made them ill the next
day. This event showed, to begin with, that
there was great negligence in the way the chil-
dren were superintended, and this discovery was
rapidly followed by others.

Up till now, Aniuta had been supposed to be
phenomenally above her age in cleverness ; now

204 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

it appeared that she was not only dreadfully
spoilt, but exceedingly ignorant for a girl of
twelve ; she could not even write her own lan-
guage properly.

And worst of all, it came to light that the
French governess was given to a vice so ugly
that it could not be mentioned in the children's
presence.

A sad time followed; Tania remembered it
dimly afterwards as a kind of general domestic
misery. In the .nursery there was .r^thing Ь ^
rows and teai ^"^ Л quarrelled, all were ^-^^^^^^^
the innocent :^^^ ell as the guilty. The ^^^j^^^^
was in a t/^-^.i^r, the mother in tears, щ^^^^
cried, the French governess was wrin^-^^ ^^^
^^hands,^nd packing^: up her things. "^^^.^ ^^^
Ahriita dared not stir! fc^^ ^^^^'/^^ the scape-
goats on whom all vented ^Mt^^ tempers ; and
the slightest wrong was treated as a crime. At
the same time, they felt a kind of curious interest
in what was going on, and in listening to the
quarrels amongst their elders, wondering what
would be the end of it all.

Ivan Sergejevitsch, who did not like half-
measures, made up his mind that the whole
educational system was to be thoroughly
reformed. The French governess got notice,

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 20$

Njania was dismissed from the nursery, and was
made superintendent of the linen department;
and two new persons made their appearance : a
PoHsh tutor and an EngHsh governess.

The tutor proved to be a worthy man, who
understood his business thoroughly, but, truth to
tell, he had no influence on the children's edu-
cation. The governess, on the contrary, intro-
duced quite a new element into the house.

Though she was born in Russia, and spoke
Russian fluently, she had retained the typical
Anglo-Saxon qualities — honesty and persever-
ance. As this last characteristic did not belong
to the family, it explains the great influence she
came to exercise on her surroundings.

All her first efforts were directed to a complete
reform of the nursery, where she wanted to bring
up her pupils as exemplary English girls.

Heaven knows, it was no easy task to establish
an English system in a noble Russian family,
with its century-old habits of laziness, careless-
ness, and despotism.

Nevertheless, owing to her wonderful tenacity,
she attained her end to a certain extent.

Not with Aniuta, however, whose habits of
unlimited freedom were too inveterate. They
spent a few years together amidst incessant

20б THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

skirmishes, till Aniuta was fifteen, when, once
for all, she withdrew her allegiance from the
governess. The outward token of Aniuta's
emancipation was that her bed was moved from
the nursery to a room adjoining Elena Pau-
lovna's. From that day, Aniuta considered her-
self ' grown up and out,' and the governess seized
every opportunity of asserting that Aniuta's
behaviour did not concern her any more, and
that she had renounced all responsibility for it.

She now devoted her whole attention to
Tania, whom she isolated from the rest of the
family, and tried to protect from her elder sister's
influence as anxiously as if she was guarding her
against the pestilence. And this system of ex-
clusion was facilitated by the arrangement of the
house, where two or three families might have
lived easily, without incommoding each other in
the least.

Nearly the whole ground-floor, except a few
spare rooms and some of the servants' rooms, was
left to the governess and Tania. The drawing-
room floor, with the elegantly furnished reception
rooms, belonged to Elena Paulovna and Aniuta.
Fedia and his tutor had one wing, and the
general's study occupied the ground-floor of a
tower, which formed a building by itself, separate

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 20/

from the house. So the different groups of the
Rajevski family had each their territory, and
had no need to interfere with each other. Only
at the two meals, dinner, and tea in the evening,
the whole circle was united.

IV

EDUCATION

A STRICTLY regulated life had begun for Tania.
She shared her bedroom with her governess,
who superintended her dressing, made her get
up at seven and take a cold bath in the morning.
Though Tania did not like this process she
felt very comfortable after it, and generally
began her day in high spirits ; but her gay
humour was soon checked by Malvina Jakov-
levna, who suffered from her liver, and was
seldom cheerful in the morning. After break-
fast, work invariably began with a music lesson.
An hour and a half of scales and exercises was
not very cheering either. So long as Aniuta
shared the lessons, Tania took great inerest in
them ; she listened attentively, and frequently
remembered the whole lesson when her elder
sister had forgotten everything. But though

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 209

she was still fairly industrious, her studies had
lost all attraction for her.

They had lunch at twelve, and as soon as the
last mouthful was swallowed, the governess went
to the window and examined the weather. If
the thermometer showed less than ten degrees
below freezing-point, and if there was no wind,
they would walk for an hour and a half up and
down the alley which had been cleared from
snow, but if it was very cold and windy Malvina
Jakovlevna would take her indispensable walk
by herself, and Tania was sent to one of the
large rooms up stairs, where she had to play with
her ball.

Tania did not care very much for this occu-
pation, still she gladly obeyed the order, as it
gave her an hour and a half to herself During
these hours her imagination would work freely ;
she recited the poems she knew by heart, or
others which she invented herself She was
very fond of poetry, and felt convinced that she
would become a poet herself In fact, from
her fifth year she had tried to write verses, but
this exercise was not to the taste of her
governess, who had cruelly ridiculed her attempts,
and done her best to stop them.

Adjoining the large hall where Tania took

210 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

her exercise, when she was alone, was the
Hbrary, which proved a great temptation. Here
books lay scattered on tables, chairs, and sofas,
and there was the greatest variety of foreign
novels and Russian periodicals. Tania was
strictly forbidden to touch any of these books,
for Malvina Jakovlevna was most particular
about her reading, and did not allow her pupil
to read anything she did not know thoroughly
herself; but as she read rather slowly, and
seldom found time to peruse such books as the
child wished to have, Tania was in a chronic
state of mental hunger. How then could
she be expected always to resist the forbidden
fruit ?

She would struggle for a few moments, then
take one of the books in her hand, and read
a few lines here and there, and again run back
to the hall and play for a while ; but at last the
temptation was too strong, and so by degrees
one book was read after the other. Now and
then she rushed into the other room and played
with the ball, and so she generally escaped
discovery. But occasionally she would be so
absorbed in her reading that she forgot the
time, and was caught in the very act by her
governess, and this entailed the worst punish-

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 211

ment Tania knew : she was sent to her father, to
confess her misdeed to him herself.

Ivan Sergejevitsch was by no means severe
with his children, but he seldom saw them, and
there was no familiarity between them, except
when they were ill. Then he used to be quite a
different person — the fear of losing them would
dominate all other feelings. His voice and
whole manner became so kind and gentle ; he
would caress them and play with them better
than anybody else. And at such times the
children idolised their father, and fondly cherished
the memory of his kindness. But as soon as
they were all right again he thought he ought to
resume his severity, and was very sparing of his
caresses.

He liked solitude and lived in his own world,
to which nobody was admitted. Not even
Elena Paulovna entered his sanctuary without
knocking, and the children would never have
dared to come unbidden.

So the governess's order, * Go to your father
and confess ! ' was the most awful sentence for
Tania ; but it was no use crying and resisting ;
a firm hand took hold of her and dragged her
to the general's door, where she was left to her
fate. There stands Ilia, her father's valet, with

212 THE SISTERS RAJEA^SKI

the most irritating smile on his face ; she
cannot go back to the schoolroom without
adding open disobedience to her transgression ;
on the other hand, it is unbearable to stand
there exposed to the servant's pity or mockery.
so there is nothing left but to knock at the
door and face her father's anger. She knocks
feebly.

' Louder, Miss,' says the intolerable Ilia, who
seems to enjoy the scene thoroughly.

She knocks again.

' Who is there ? come in ! ' a voice answers.

Tania enters, but stops just inside the door.

Her father is sitting at the writing-table with
his back towards the door.

' Well, what's the matter ? who is it ? ' he
exclaims impatiently.

'It is I, Malvina Jakovlevna has sent me,'
Tania answers with a sob.

Now Ivan Sergejevitsch knows what is the
matter. ' Oh, I see, you have been playing your
pranks again,' he says, trying to speak harshly.
' Well, what's it about ? ' And with streaming
tears Tania falters out her confession. Ivan
Sergejevitsch does not listen very attentively.
His pedagogical ideas are most elementary ;
he thinks education is women's business, and of

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 213

course he has not the remotest idea of the
compHcated feehngs of the Httle girl who stands
there awaiting her doom ; to him she is still the
little Tania of five years ago. Evidently he is
in great doubt what to do on this occasion.
Her transgression does not seem of great
consequence to him, but he firmly believes that
severity is necessary in education. In his own
mind he feels rather vexed with the governess
for not being able to settle this simple affair by
herself; but as he has been appealed to in the
matter, of course he must show his paternal
authority, and so he looks very severe.

' You are a naughty, disobedient girl, and 1
am very cross with you,' he says, and then makes
a pause because he does not know what to say.
* Go and put yourself in a corner,' he orders at
last ; for of all wise pedagogical rules, one only
has fastened itself in his memory, that naughty
children are to stand in the corner of disgrace.

And Tania, a girl of twelve, who a few moments
ago has passed through the most exciting
psychological scenes with the heroine of the
novel she has been reading, must go and stand
in a corner like a silly baby !

Ivan Sergejevitsch resumes his work. There
is deep silence in the room ; Tania stands

214 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

motionless, but a torrent of conflicting feelings
pour in upon her during these minutes. She sees
clearly how useless and silly this punishment is,
but a kind of shame makes her submit to it in
silence, without tears or complaints, though
resentment at the bitter wrong she is suffering,
and her powerlessness against it, threaten to
choke her. And to add to her torture, in comes
the valet, who has found a pretext for entering
the room, on purpose, of course, to see her
punishment.

Her father seems to have forgotten all about
it, but at last he remembers her, and sends her
away, saying : ' Well, you may go now, but don't
do it again ! ' Perhaps he would have been
horrified if he had been able to look into the
child's heart. Tania leaves his room with a
grief far beyond her years, and with a feeling of
humiliation so bitter, that only twice since, in the
darkest hours of her life, has she had similar
feelings.

She returns to the schoolroom, silent and
subdued. Her governess is satisfied with the
result of her method of education, and for several
days afterwards Tania is so quiet and submissive,
that no fault can be found with her conduct.
But Malvina Jakovlevna would be less pleased

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 215

if she knew the impression this event had left
in the girl's mind.

The conviction that she was not loved by her
family went like a dark thread through all
Tania's recollections from her childhood. It had
been nourished by accidental remarks of the
servants, and it increased throughout the solitary
life she led with her governess.

Malvina Jakovlevna's lot was not very cheer-
ful either. Plain, alone in the world, no longer
young, a stranger in Russia, where she never
felt quite at home, and longing for English sur-
roundings, she concentrated on Tania all the
devotion of which her stiff, energetic, and any-
thing but sentimental nature was capable. Elena
Pauiovna and the governess were two so oppo-
site natures, that sympathy between them was
impossible.

In character, as well as in outward appear-
ance, Tania's mother was one of those women
who never grow old. She was of noble German
extraction, but her family had lived man}'
years in Russia. Her grandfather had been a
well-known man of science, and her father was
the chief of the Military Academy. His position
gave him access to the highest circles in St
Petersburg, military as well as scientific, and he

2l6 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

received in his home the elite of society. His
wife had died early, but his numerous un-
married sisters lived with him, and superintended
his household.

Consequently, Elena Paulovna, as a young
girl, never came into contact with the practical
side of life. She got a better education than
most Russian girls at that time, played the piano
very well, sang admirably, spoke several foreign
languages, and had a pretty good knowledge of
French and German literature. Moreover, she
had artistic tastes, though none of her gifts were
so prominent as to call for great sacrifices on her
part, nor did they interfere with the tastes and
habits of her surroundings. On the contrary,
she cultivated her talents more for the pleasure
of others than for her own sake.

The guests in her father's house had mostly
been elderly, serious people, who were fond of
the fine clever girl, and liked to chat with her ;
they had looked upon her and treated her as a
child ; and so did her husband, who was much
older than she.

Ivan Sergejevitsch was a widower when he
married Elena Paulovna, but he had no children
by his first wife. If Elena had married into
a German family, she might have become

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 21^

an excellent mistress of the house, but in her
Russian home it was rather difficult to develop
domestic virtues. The order of this house was
maintained as it had been for generations in the
Rajevski family. The servants were old serfs,
and had long ago arrogated all power and
authority; and their new mistress, who was almost
a child, and of a gentle, yielding disposition,
could not assert herself sufficiently to carry out
any change in the household. In the few cases
in which she had attempted an innovation, her
orders had been carried out so reluctantly, and
with such evident intention to do wrong, that
after all, poor Elena Paulovna had been obliged to
acknowledge her deficiency, and with every defeat,
of course, the servants' tyranny had increased.

She was simply afraid of the governess, who,
on her side, treated the young mistress somewhat
harshly, and considered herself the sovereign in
the children's room. Consequently Elena seldom
went to the schoolroom, and never interfered
with her children's education.

As for Tania, she adored her mother, and
thought her the finest, most lovely of all the
women she knew ; but she could not help feeling
a little wronged by her — why did her mother
love her Jess than her sister and brother ?

2l8 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

It is evening ; Tania sits in the schoolroom ;
she has finished her lessons for to-morrow, but
her governess has kept her back on purpose, as
she does not want her to go and join the others.
She hears music from the drawing-room. Elena
Paulovna generally plays on the piano of an
evening ; she knows a great deal of music by
heart, and can go on for hours with her impro-
visations from one tune to another. It is Tania's
great delight to listen to her mother's playing.
At last she is allowed to escape, and rushes
up stairs. When she enters the drawing-
room, Elena Paulovna has stopped playing,
and sits on the sofa with Aniuta and Fedia,
one on each side, clinging to her. They
are chatting and laughing, and don't take any
notice of Tania at all. She joins them for a few
moments, hoping to attract their attention, but
in vain. She feels a chill in her heart ; ' they
enjoy themselves better without me,' is her
bitter thought, and instead of covering her
mother's delicate hands with kisses, as she had
been longing to do, she retires to a remote
corner, and keeps sulking till the party is called
in to tea, whereupon she has to go to bed

V

UNCLE PETER SERGEJEVITSCH

Two persons became the object of Tania's warm
attachment, her father's eldest brother, and her
mother's only brother. The former, Peter
Sergejevitsch Rajevski, was a very tall, stately
old man, with a large head and beautiful white
wavy hair. His face, with its fine regular profile,
grey bushy brows, and deep perpendicular
furrow dividing the forehead, would have looked
almost fierce, but for a pair of kind, honest, and
innocent eyes, such as we frequently see in faces
of small children or Newfoundland dogs.

Peter Sergejevitsch was no worldly-wise man.
Though he was the eldest son, and ought to
have been the head of the family, everybody
had treated him like a big baby. He was very
original, and a dreamer. His wife was dead, and
he had left his considerable fortune to their only
son, reserving a small allowance for himself.

220 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

He frequently visited his brother at Palibino,
and would remain for weeks. The arrival was
hailed as a festival by the children, and his
presence always made the house more bright
and cheerful.

His favourite room was the library, where he
would sit the whole day without stirring from
the large leather sofa, quite absorbed in the
Revue des deux Mondes, his favourite reading.

In fact, reading was his only mania ; he took
great interest in politics, and devoured the
newspapers that came once a week ; he would
brood over them for hours, wondering what new
villanies Napoleon would commit, and worrying
himself a good deal about Bismarck too. He
felt convinced that Napoleon would make
havoc with the Germans in the end, and as he
did not live to see 1870, he died in this con-
viction.

In politics, Peter Sergejevitsch was dreadfully
bloodthirsty. To massacre an army of a
hundred thousand men seemed a mere trifle to
him. In theory, he was equally merciless in
punishing criminals, though in real life he took
all men to be good and honest.

He had frequent skirmishes with the governess,
whom he irritated by saying that all the English

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKl 221

governors of India ought to have been hanged.
' Yes, yes, Miss, every one of them ! ' he would
burst out passionately, banging the table with
his fist. Anybody seeing him at such a moment
would have been frightened to death. But then
he would suddenly calm down and look quite
distressed, finding that his violent gestures had
awakened the greyhound Grisi, who was just
taking a nap on the sofa.

But nothing gave Peter Sergejevitsch more
delight than to read about new scientific dis-
coveries. He would tell all about them at
dinner, and on these occasions the conversation
became lively, and frequently very aggressive.
As a rule, there was silence at meals, because
the persons present did not share one another's
interests, and so had nothing to talk about.

* Have you read about Paul Bert's new
invention ? ' Peter Sergejevitsch asks, and gives
an account of the article he has read, with
unconscious exaggerations of the facts, and
drawing conclusions as to their importance
and consequences, which are so bold that they
would most likely have surpassed the inventor's
wildest dreams. Hot arguments follow. Elena
Paulovna and Aniuta, as a rule, join in Peter
Sergejevitsch's enthusiasm ; the governess almost

222 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

as invariably takes the opposite view, and begins
a violent attack on the theories advocated by-
Peter Sergejevitsch, declaring them to be false,
if not criminal. The Polish tutor now and then
raises his voice to correct some formal detail,
though he wisely abstains from any active part
in the discussion. As for Ivan Sergejevitsch,
he represents critical scepticism, and does not
side with either of the parties, contenting him-
self with discovering and pointing out the weak
points in both camps.

The discussions sometimes assume a very
warlike character. By some unfortunate chance
they invariably end in petty personal attacks.
The hottest opponents are always Malvina
Jakovlevna and Aniuta, whose five years' feud is
only interrupted by short periods of armed peace.

If Peter Sergejevitsch draws the boldest
general conclusions from isolated facts, the
governess on her side is not less ingenious in
using the contrary method. In discussing the most
abstract scientific theories, she will find astonish-
ing opportunities for blaming Aniuta's conduct,
and her arguments seem so unwarranted, that
you are taken completely aback.

Aniuta does not hang back, and her answers
are so malicious and impudent, that the

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 223

governess rises from table in high dudgeon,
declaring that after such insults she can remain
in the house no longer. Everybody, of course,
feels uncomfortable ; Elena Paulovna, who hates
scenes and quarrels, undertakes the part of a
mediator, and after long negotiations peace is
restored at last.

Tania particularly remembers the hurricane
caused by two articles in the Revue des deux
Mondes^ one by Professor Helmholtz about the
* unity of physical powers,' the other by Claude
Bernard about experiments with pigeons' brains.
No doubt the two learned professors would
have been much surprised had they been told
what bones of contention they had thrown into
an inoffensive Russian family, living in the
remote province of Vitebsk.

Peter Sergejevitsch was also fond of reading
novels, travels, and historical essays, and would
even condescend to children's books. We
should have thought that he, a wealthy Russian
landowner, might easily have satisfied this
innocent passion by collecting a library for
himself, but as a fact he scarcely possessed a
book, and it was not till late in life that the
Palibino library offered him an opportunity of
revelling in his favourite occupation.

224 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

The weakness of character which formed such
a striking contrast to his stately martial appear-
ance, had always made him the victim of others,
and he had never allowed himself to satisfy any
personal inclinations.

On account of this deficiency, his parents had
not thought him fit for the military career,
which in his youth was considered the only
suitable position for a nobleman ; but they had
decided to keep him at home, and let him have
just as much education as would enable him not
to sink to the level of a rough country squire.
Whatever knowledge he possessed beyond these
first elements he had himself acquired ; and he
had considerable reading, though of a desultory
kind, being very well grounded in some subjects,
and very defective in others, like most self-taught
people. He continued to live with his parents,
accepting his humble position without the
slightest resentment or dissatisfaction.

His younger and cleverer brothers patronised
him in a good-natured, inoffensive, way, and
looked upon him as an eccentric.

But suddenly the most unexpected thing
happened. Nadeschda Andrejevna N., the
greatest beauty and the richest heiress in the
government (county), honoured him with her

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 225

attention. Whether she was captivated by his
person, or whether she had simply made out that
he was exactly the husband she wanted, whom
she would like to see always at her feet,
as her obedient and loving giant — she showed
distinctly that she was ready to accept him as
her husband.

Peter Sergejevitsch would never have dared to
dream of such a thing ; but a host of aunts and
sisters hastened to inform him of this marvellous
chance, and before he had time to realise the
fact, he was betrothed to the beautiful, rich, and
spoiled Nadeschda Andrejevna.

But their married life was not happy.

Though the children at Palibino firmly
believed that Uncle Peter existed only for
their private pleasure, and though they chatted
freely to him about everything else, they felt
instinctively that there was one subject they were
never to mention — his late wife.

They had heard awful stories about Aunt
Nadeschda Andrejevna, though neither from their
parents nor their governess, who never mentioned
her name in their presence. But their youngest
unmarried aunt, Anna Sergejevna, used to have
a gossiping fit now and then, and she had told
the children terrible things about their late aunt,

22б THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

' You have no idea what a snake she was, and
the life she led your Aunt Marpha and myself!
And poor brother Peter, he had his fill of her
too ! When she was angry with one of the
servants, for instance, she would rush into his
room, and ask him to punish the culprit with his
own hand. Of course, he was much too kind-
hearted to do that, and he would try to reason
with her, — no use ! she only flew into a rage,
and showered abuse on him. And he — old
woman as he was— would sit and listen in silence.
At last, seeing that she could not rouse his
temper with her words, she would take his papers
and books, in fact, everything she could get hold
of, and fling it into the fire, exclaiming : " I
won't have that old rubbish in my house ! "
Occasionally she would even pull off her slipper
and give him a box on the ear ! And he, silly
thing, what did he do ? He tried to take her
hands — very careful not to hurt her — and said,
as gently as possible : " What's the matter with
you, Nadenka? Try to control yourself; are you
not ashamed to behave like this ? "
' But she did'nt mind in the least ? '
' How could he stand it ? why did'nt he try to
get rid of her ? ' the children exclaimed, flushing
with indignation.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 227

' Oh, well, a husband can't throw off his wife
like an old glove,' Anna Sergejevna answered ;
' besides, I must say, that though she treated him
badly, he loved her dearly all the same.'

' But how could he ? such a Xantippe ! '

* He did love her, anyhow, and he could not
live without her. When they had done away
with her, he grieved so deeply, that he very
nearly put an end to his own life.'

' What do you mean, auntie ? You say they did
away with her ? ' the children asked, in the
greatest excitement.

Auntie, who feels that she has said too much,
suddenly falls silent, and knits fast at her stock-
ing, to show that she is not going to say any
more.

But the children's curiosity is roused, and they
don't give in.

' Oh, do tell us, auntie dear,' they beseech.

And, perhaps, Anna Sergejevna feels rather a
temptation to go on, as she has told so much of
the story.

' Well, her own servants did it,' she suddenly
answers.

' Oh, how dreadful ! How did they do it ? '

' It was this way,' Anna Sergejevna begins
again : ' One night she was alone, having sent

228 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

Uncle Peter and the children away. Her maid
and favourite, Malanga, undressed her as usual,
and helped her to bed ; but then she claps her
hands three times, and on this signal the other
maid-servants rush into the room, as well as
Fedor, the coachman, and Yevstignej, the
gardener. Nadeschda Andrejevna sees the
danger, but she does not show any fear, nor lose
her presence of mind : " What ever do you want
here, rascals ? Are you mad } Will you go away
instantly ! " And so strong was the force of
habit, that they hesitated and began to retire,
when Malanga, the boldest of them, stopped
them, and cried out : " Cowards, what are you
thinking of? Aren't you afraid? Don't you
see that she will send us to Siberia to-morrow ? "
Then they took courage, and rushed up to her
bed ; some seized her hands, others her feet ;
they heaped pillows and eiderdowns on the top
of her, to suffocate her. She screamed and im-
plored them to spare her, promising money
and everything else if they would allow her to
live. But no ; they were not to be bribed. And
Malanga, her favourite, told them to put a wet
towel on her head, to prevent blue spots appear-
ing on her face.

' Afterwards, they freely confessed their deed.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 229

the stupid slaves, and gave a detailed report to
the judge of what had happened. And dearly
they had to pay for it. They were flogged, and
sent to Siberia, where many of them are still
dragging on a miserable existence.'

Aunt Anna stops, and the children are horror-
stricken.

' Now, you must not for the world let your
parents know what I have told you,' she says ;
and the children feel perfectly well that it
would'nt do to speak to their parents or governess
about these things ; it would make a dreadful
scene,and they would never be told anything again.

But Tania is haunted by this awful story, and
cannot sleep for it.

Once, when visiting her uncle, she had seen a full-
length portrait in oil of Nadeschda Andrejevna,
painted in the conventional fashion ; and now, all
of a sudden, this picture stands vividly before
her — this doll-like lady with the small and deli-
cate limbs, in a low red velvet dress, with a garnet
necklace on her plump white neck, full, rosy
cheeks, proud, large, black eyes, and a stereo-
typed smile about her tiny, red mouth. And
Tania pictures to herself the wild horror in those
eyes, when she suddenly saw her own serfs
rush into the room to take her life.

230 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

Whenever she is alone with her uncle this
story is present to her mind, and she is quite at
a loss to understand how this man, who has ex-
perienced such awful things, can be so calm and
cheerful now, as if nothing had happened ; that
he can play chess with her, make paper boats,
and fire up at an article in the paper. Now and
then she feels a morbid desire to speak to her
uncle about the forbidden subject ; she will sit
staring at him, trying to imagine this tall, strong
and wise man, trembling before this little beauty
of a wife, weeping and kissing her hands while
she tears his books and papers, and takes off her
little slipper to box his ears. Once, and once
only, was the temptation too strong for her to
resist.

It was evening, and they were alone in the
library ; her uncle was sitting on the sofa, as
usual, reading a book ; Tania was playing with
her ball ; at last she got tired, and sat down on
the sofa beside him, leaning her head on his
shoulder, and her thoughts took the usual turn.

Peter Sergejevitsch put down his book, passed
his hand over her hair, and said kindly, ' What
is my little girl thinking of so deeply ? '

* Uncle, weren't you very unhappy with your
wife ? ' Tania bursts out almost involuntarily.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 23 1

She never forgot the effect of that unexpected
question on poor Peter Sergejevitsch. His calm
features were contracted as in physical pain, and
he stretched out his hands as if to avert a blow.
Tania felt the intensest pity and shame — it was
almost as if she had boxed his ears with a
slipper.

* Dear, darling uncle, forgive me ! I did'nt
know what I was saying ! ' she whispered, cling-
ing to him, and hiding her flushed face on his
bosom. And her kind-hearted uncle had to
comfort her for her untimely curiosity.

Of course, Tania never again returned to the
forbidden subject, but she talked to him freely
about everything else. She used to be his special
favourite, and they would sit together talking for
hours. When his head was full of some meta-
physical idea, he could neither think nor speak
of anything else ; and when he had no other
listeners, he would expound his abstract theories
to Tania, quite forgetting that she was a child.

But this was exactly what she liked, and she
exerted herself to the utmost to understand him,
or at least to pretend that she did.

Though Peter Sergejevitsch had never studied
mathematics properly, he had the deepest venera-
tion for this science, and had gathered some scraps

232 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

of knowledge here and there ; he liked to dis-
cuss mathematical problems, and would fre-
quently do so in Tania's presence. It was he
who first talked to her about squaring the circle.
Of course, she did not understand anything, but
she was deeply impressed with this wonderful
mystical science, that seemed to open to its
adepts a world of miracles inaccessible to
the uninitiated. Another rather peculiar cir-
cumstance had awakened her interest for mathe-
matics.

One of the walls in a room which луаз to be
repapered, had an intermediate covering of old
sheets of paper, which were full of mathematical
designs, dating from the time when Ivan Serge-
jevitsch had studied this science in his youth.
These mysterious lines soon attracted Tania's
curiosity ; she would stand looking at them for
hours, and try to find the order in which the
sheets ought to have been put together. So by
degrees a number of formulas fastened them-
selves in her memory ; even the text seemed to
impress itself on her brain, though she did not
catch its meaning.

When many years later, in St Petersburg, as a
girl of fifteen, she took her first lessons in
differential calculus, her teacher was surprised to

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 233

find how quickly she understood and remembered
mathematical problems, as though she had studied
them before. And so she had, indeed ; the
moment he explained them to her, the real
meaning dawned upon her of the words and
formulas which had long been stowed away in
some recess of her brain.

VI

UNCLE FEDOR PAULITSCH

Tania's attachment to her maternal uncle was
of a very different nature. He was her mother's
only brother, and much younger than she. He
lived in St. Petersburg, and being the only male
heir to the distinguished old name, he was
idolised by his sisters and numerous aunts, all
unmarried women.

It was a great event at Palibino when he
came on a visit. Tania was nine years old when
he came for the first time. For weeks nothing
else had been talked of, the best spare room was
put in order to receive him, and a carriage was
sent to fetch him from the county town, about
100 miles from Palibino. But the day before he
was expected, a simple telega pulled up before
the door, and out jumped a young man in a
light overcoat with a travelling bag on his

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 235

shoulders, and the family rushed out into the
hall to meet him.

Fedor Paulitsch had a pleasant voice ; he
seemed quite young, his short chestnut hair
stood like a velvet cushion round his head, his
cheeks were flushed with the cold air, his bright
brown eyes looked round merrily, he had a
fine moustache, and from between his fresh
red lips a set of brilliant white teeth shone
out.

' How beautiful! how stately!' Tania thought,
and kept looking at him in rapture.

* Who is that? Aniuta?' he asked pointing at
Tania.

* Oh dear no; what are you thinking of, Fedia?
Aniuta is quite a young lady ; this is only Tania,'
Elena Paulovna answered in an injured tone.

*Well, your girls are grown indeed! Look
out, Lena, they will soon make an old woman of
you,' Fedor Paulitsch exclaimed laughing, and
kissed Tania. She felt shy without knowing
why, and blushed deeply.

Dinner was very gay ; Uncle Fedor kept
chatting the whole time and made everybody
laugh. Ivan Sergejevitsch himself treated his
brother-in-law with great consideration, not in
the patronising way which he sometimes adopted

236 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

with the younger men of the family, and which
irritated them very much.

Tania could not keep her eyes off him ; she
admired everything about him, his fine white
hands and his smart English suit.

* Do you know, Lena,' he says laughingly to
his sister, ' I have been wondering all the time
what Tania's eyes are like. Now I have found it
out — they look like preserved gooseberries, large,
green, and sweet.'

All burst out laughing, and Tania blushed
and felt a little bit hurt ; but her uncle added,
'Very sweet and very green,' and so she was
comforted.

After dinner, her uncle sat down on a corner
sofa and took Tania on his knees.

' Now, you come here, we must be friends,'
he says, and begins talking about her lessons.
Children as a rule are well aware of their strong
points, and Tania knows that she possesses very
good knowledge for her age, so she is glad that
her uncle has chosen this topic; she gives good
answers, and he is very much pleased.

' What a sensible little girl you are ! That's
nice, — you know something, I see ! ' he keeps
saying.

'Now, Uncle,you tell me something,' Tania begs.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 237

* Oh yes, with pleasure ; but I suppose such a
lady as you are does not want nursery-tales,'
he says jokingly; ' I shall have to tell you some-
thing serious/ And he begins talking about
coral-reefs, sea-weeds, infusories, etc. It is very
interesting, and he is quite charmed to see how
eagerly the child listens to these things.

And these delightful tete-a-tetes were resumed
every evening when Ivan Sergejevitsch and Elena
Paulovna had retired for half an hour's nap.
Aniuta and Fedia did not care to listen to these
instructive conversations, and so Tania had her
uncle all to herself, which was the greatest treat
to her.

Now it happened during one of his visits to
Palibino, that a gentleman from the neighbour-
hood came on a visit with his daughter Olga.
She was the only girl of the same age as herself
with whom Tania had any intercourse. She did
not come very often, but when she came she used
to remain the whole day, and sometimes all night
too. She was a lively child, and Tania used to
look forward to her visits. But this time Tania's
first thought was : ' What is she going to do after
dinner, and how am 1 to have uncle to myself?'
She felt instinctively that Olga's presence would
spoil the fun, so she received her friend much

238 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

less cordially than usual. The whole morning
she kept hoping that Olga would leave early ;
but no, she was to stay till late in the evening.
What was to be done.^ At last she took courage
and spoke openly to her friend.

' Look here, Olga, ' she said in her insinuating
way, ' I will play with you the whole day, and
do everything you like ; but then you must be
good and leave me alone after dinner. I always
have a little talk with my uncle, and we don't
want you. '

Olga consented readily, and Tania kept faith-
fully her part of the engagement. At last dinner
came. Tania was on tenter-hooks all the time.
' Would Olga keep her promise ? ' she wondered,
casting eager glances at her friend, and trying to
remind her of her promise by all kinds of signals.

' Well, dearie, what are we going to talk about
to-day ? ' Fedor Paulitsch asked after dinner,
chucking his little niece affectionately under the
chin. Tania was delighted, clasped his hands,
and was just going to retire to the dear corner
with him, when she suddenly discovered that the
faithless Olga was coming after them. Very likely
if Tania had not said anything at all, Olga would
have been the first to retire on hearing the two
talk about serious matters, for she hated any-

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 239

thing that reminded her of lessons ; but seeing
Tania's eagerness, she fancied something very
amusing must be going on, and she wanted to
know what it was. ' May I come too ? ' she in-
quired, looking at Fedor Paulitsch with her fine

* Certainly, dear child, ' he answered, looking
kindly at her pretty little face.

Tania looked daggers, but Olga was not in the
least affected.

'Olga doesn't know anything about it, she
won't understand, ' Tania objected discontentedly.

'Well, then, we must talk about something
else which she likes to hear, ' Uncle Fedor re-
plied good-naturedly, taking both little girls by
the hand. Tania was very black ; this was not
what she wanted at all ; she felt as if she had
been deprived of a treasure which was hers by
right.

' Well, Tania, come along and sit down here
on my lap,' her uncle said, evidently not
noticing her bad humour ; but Tania felt very
injured, and this proposal did not soothe her.

* No, I won't,' she answered vehemently, and
squeezed herself into the corner, where she re-
mained sulking. The uncle looked at her with
an astonished smile. Did he suspect the jealousy

240 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

that raged in her heart, and was he going to make
fun of it ? Anyhow, he suddenly turned to Olga
and said :

' Very well, Olga, as Tania does not want to
come, you sit up here.'

This was an unexpected blow to Tania ; she
was too much taken aback to protest, and could
only stare in silence at her happy rival, who was
sitting on her uncle's knee enjoying herself, and
quite flushed with excitement.

At last — Tania did not know how it came, it
was as if somebody had given her a push — she
rushed forward and plunged her teeth into Olga's
white arm just above the elbow.

The attack was so sudden, that neither of the
three could say anything ; they stared at each
other for some moments. At last Olga gave a
shriek, which roused them to consciousness.

Tania felt deeply ashamed, and ran out of the
room. * You nasty, wicked girl ! ' her uncle cried
angrily after her.

Her constant resort in all her childish griefs
was her former nurse, dear old Njania ; and
with her she sought relief now. Hiding her face in
Njania's lap, she had a good long cry. No
questions were asked ; the old woman only kept
patting her head, muttering, ' Poor darling, now

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 24 1

be quiet, my own little girl ! ' And Tania felt a
great relief in pouring out her despair to this
faithful friend.

Fortunately her governess was out, so nobody
missed her. At last Njania gave her a cup of
tea and took her to bed, where she soon fell into
a heavy sleep.

Next morning she felt dreadfully ashamed, and
thought she could never look anybody in the face
again. But things went better than she expected.
Olga had left in the evening, and had evidently
been generous enough not to complain of Tania.
Nobody scolded or scoffed at her ; her uncle did
not show any change in his manner.

But, strange to say, from that day Tania's feel-
ings towards him were quite changed. They
had no more chats in the evening, and he re-
turned to St. Petersburg shortly afterwards.
Though he came frequently, and was always very
kind to Tania, and though she continued to be
fond of him, the idolatrous attachment she had
felt towards him was gone for ever.

VII

RURAL PLEASURES.

The country round Palibino was very wild and
much more picturesque than the other parts of
Central Russia. The government of Vitebsk is
noted for its vast pine-woods and its wealth of
beautiful lakes. The spurs of the Waldai-
Heights cover part of the country, which conse-
quently looks rugged and hilly compared with
the endless plains of which Russia mainly con-
sists. There are scarcely any rocks, but now
and then a large granite block surprises you
in the midst of a flat tract of country or of a
marsh covered with grass six feet high.

Palibino lay quite close to a wood, which
gradually became denser and denser, and at last
merged into the enormous imperial forest, which
extended for hundreds of miles. In its thickets
you never heard the sound of an axe, except
perhaps at night, when a peasant was bold
enough to steal a little crown-wood.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 243

Many curious stories were told about
this forest. Of course superstition peopled it
with supernatural beings : fairies, trolls and
gnomes ; and rumours went abroad that it was
the resort of thieves, robbers and runaway
soldiers. Of wild animals, wolves, bears and
lynxes, no doubt there were plenty, and most of
the peasants could boast of having seen some of
them at least once in their lives.

The English governess at Palibino, who was
passionately fond of walking, at first despised all
the stories about the wood with which they tried
to frighten her ; but one autumn day when she
was walking with her pupils a couple of miles
from the manor, she heard a rustling sound
among the trees, and caught sight of a bear
with its two young ones crossing the road at
some distance. So she became more cautious
in future, and never went to the forest unless she
had some servants with her.

This forest, however, contained not only
horrors and mysteries — it was an inexhaustible
store-house of all kinds of treasures. There was
an abundance of game — hares, black and hazel
grouse, partridges, etc. ; great varieties of fruits —
strawberries, raspberries, bilberries, cranberries ;
plenty of nuts ; and at last in autumn an

244 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

astonishing wealth of different kinds of mush-
rooms.

The Rajevskis would sometimes make long
excursions in summer when the strawberries
were ripe, and in autumn when the mushroom
season was at hand. These expeditions required
a good deal of preparation ; all had to be ready
on the previous evening. At daybreak two or
three telegas stood before the chief entrance.
There were stir and bustle all over the house,
servants carrying down provisions, a samovar,
china, glasses and empty jars and baskets for
collecting the mushrooms, children running in
everybody's way, dogs barking and nearly up-
setting the people.

At last everything is ready : the party, con-
sisting of the governess, the tutor, the three
children and a score of servants, get up into the
carriages, and off they go.

The first halt is to be made at the game-
keeper's house, about seven miles from the
manor. The carriages are jolting slowly along
on the muddy road in the wood. You see no-
thing but fir-trees all round, high and melancholy
with their dark brown stems; only along the
edges of the road are narrow lines of shrubs,
hazel, elder-bushes ; here and there some red

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 245

trembling aspens in their variegated autumn-
tints, or a picturesque mountain-ash with its
brilHant vermilion berries. Suddenly you hear
screams from one of the carriages, the driver's
cap sticks to a dripping wet birch-branch, which
hangs down over the road ; when he tries to
catch it somebody shakes the branch, sending a
shower of fragrant dew over all the persons in
the carriage, which calls forth peals of laughter
and jokes.

Now they stop at the gamekeeper's lodge. It
is roofed with planks, and looks cleaner and more
comfortable than most cottages in ' White
Russia.' It stands in a little meadow, and — a
rare luxury for a peasant in this country — is
surrounded by a small garden, where you can see
some red poppies and a few yellow sunflowers in
the midst of the cabbages; some apple-trees, too,
covered with beautiful red apples, the owner's
particular pride, because he has planted them
himself

The gamekeeper is about seventy, his long
beard is snow-white, but he looks healthy and
strong with his grave dignified face. He is taller
and more robust than most of his countrymen,
and his face reflects the surrounding woods'
majestic calm. All his children are provided

246 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

for, his daughters are married, and his sons earn
their living as artisans. Now he Hves alone with
his wife and an adopted child, a boy whom they
have taken home to them in their old age.

As soon as his wife catches sight of the
visitors she puts the samovar to the fire, and
then the old couple meet their guests at the door,
bowing deeply, and inviting them to take a cup
of tea. The house is neat and clean, but the
room is stuffy, and smells unpleasantly of incense
and lamp-oil. On account of the winter cold the
windows are very small and tightly closed. It is
rather hard to breathe here, but the room con-
tains so many interesting things, that the children
readily put up with this drawback and begin to
look aboitt with curiosity. The clay floor is
strewn with fir branches, benches are standing
along the walls, and a jackdaw with clipped
wings is hopping about without being in the
least disturbed by the presence of a black cat,
which is sitting on its hind legs washing itself,
whilst it looks at the intruders with half-closed
eyes and feigned indifference. In one corner
stands a large wooden table covered with a
white embroidered cloth, and above it hangs a
shrine with a Saint and some very old and ugly
pictures.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 247

The gamekeeper is said to be a Rascolnik
(sectarian), and very likely it is owing to this,
circumstance that his home is so clean and com-
fortable, for it is a well-known fact that the
Rascolniks never go to the public-house, and
that they keep their homes clean and their lives
pure. It is also said that he pays a consider-
able fee to the Ispravnik (police-officer), and to
the priest for not interfering with his religion
by forcing him to go to the parish church or
by superintending his sectarian worship. He is
supposed never to eat anything in the house of
an orthodox person, and in his own house he
has particular vessels for preparing food for
orthodox visitors. Of whatever rank his guests
may be, he never offers them anything in a cup
or on a dish which he uses himself. The
children are very curious to know if 'uncle
Jacob,' as they call him, thinks them unclean,
but they dare not ask him. They are very fond
of uncle Jacob, and it is their greatest delight to
visit him. When now and then he comes to
Palibino, he always brings them some present,
which is more to their taste than all their ex-
pensive toys. Once he brought them a young
elk, which they kept for a long time in an en-
closure of the park,but which never got quite tame.

248 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

The large copper samovar stands steaming on
the table, and several peculiar dishes are served,
sour milk prepared in a very savoury way, and
pancakes with popp}'-jam, cucumber with honey,
delicacies which the children never get anywhere
else. The host makes the others eat without
partaking of anything himself, and has a serious
conversation with the tutor. Though uncle
Jacob uses local expressions which the children
do not understand, they like to hear him talk,
and admire his knowledge of the forest and of
all animals, whose lives and habits he seems to
know.

It is nearly six o'clock in the morning, and
time to start for the day's work. So the party
spreads all round in the wood, giving signals now
and then to show where they are.

At three o'clock there is a second halt. On
the meadow where the horses are grazing the
coachman has lit a fire. A servant fetches water
from the nearest brook; a cloth is spread on the
grass and the meal is got ready. For that day
the barrier between master and servant seems
broken down, everybody has something to tell,
and to show the result of his labour.

After the meal, work is taken up again, but
with less zeal than before. Tania, who has been

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 249

working hard the whole day, has become indif-
ferent to the mushrooms, and is admiring the
beautiful scenery. The sun is setting, and its
slanting beams throw a golden hue on the naked
stems. The little lake seems unnaturally calm,
as if spell-bound ; its water is almost black, with
only one brilliant red spot on its surface.

It is time to think of the home-journey. The
party is huddled together in the carriages.
During the day, each has been so absorbed in
his or her own affairs that nobody has paid
much attention to anybody else. But now they
all burst out laughing at the sight they pre-
sent. Faces, hair, and dresses are in wild
disorder. The head-gear particularly is most
original ; one of the girls has just a large bunch
of mountain-ash berries in her black tangled
hair, another has made herself a helmet of ferns,
a third has fixed a large red toad-stool on a
stick, holding it up like an umbrella. Tania
looks like a little bacchante, with a long branch
of wild hops tied round her head, its yellowish
green leaves mixing with her brown hair ; her
cheeks are glowing and her eyes sparkling. Her
brother calls her a gipsy queen.

However, the home-drive is very quiet, as
everybody feels tired, but Tania lies awake a

2 50 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

long time that evening before she can go to
sleep.

Opposite to the wood, on the other side of the
manor, was the garden, which went down to a
lake, beyond which you saw green fields and
meadows. Here and there some miserable
little villages peeped out among the green sur-
roundings— cottages which looked more like dens
of wild beasts than like human dwellings.

The government of Vitebsk is far from being
so fertile as the black-earth -belt in Little Russia.
The peasants in White Russia are noted for their
poverty. The Emperor Nicholas called White
Russia a penniless beauty, and the Tamboj go-
vernment a rich merchant-lady.

In the midst of this wild country, Palibino,
with its massive stone walls, its peculiar foreign
style of architecture, its terraces bardered with
roses, its large hothouses and orangeries, stands
out in striking contrast.

Even in summer it is a very calm and lonely
place, but in winter the country seems perfectly
dead ; all is covered with snow. From the
window you see nothing but an endless white
plain. For many hours no living creature ap-
pears on the road, only at rare intervals a sledge,
which is dragged slowly along by a skinny old

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 25 I

horse. Sometimes at night the wolves come
quite near to the manor. Tania remembers a
beautiful winter night ; the cold was so intense
that it almost stopped your breath. There was
no moon, but the snow and millions of large
brilliant stars made it quite light. The family
was assembled in the large drawing-room ; they
had had their tea ; the children had not yet gone
to bed ; their mother was playing the piano, and
their father smoking and playing patience, when
Ilia, the valet, appeared at the door.

' What is the matter ? ' Ivan Sergejevitsch
asked.

* The wolves have gathered near the lake ; I
thought perhaps your Excellence might like to
see them and hear them howl.' '^

The children got very excited, and were
allowed to go out on the terrace with the valet.

First there was deep silence for some mo-
ments, but at length a long trembling howl was
heard ; instantly others answered, and a strange
concert began, so sad and gloomy that it made
you feel quite melancholy. Even Polka, the
dog, felt very uncomfortable, drew in his tail
between his legs, and kept close to the children.
A nervous shiver seized them all, and they hur-
ried into the warm cosy room again.

VIII

ANIUTA

Shortly after the Rajevskis had gone to live
in the countryj the Polish revolt took place, and
its waves were bound to touch Palibino, which
lay on the border between Russia and Lithuania
Most of the wealthy landowners were Poles.
Several of these were more or less compromised ;
some had their property confiscated, and nearly
all were heavily fined. A great number left
their homes voluntarily and went abroad.
During the first years which succeeded the revolt,
there were scarcely any young people in these
parts. Only children and old people were left
■ — poor timid creatures who were afraid of their
own shadows ; besides a few civil officials,
merchants, and small proprietors.

Under these circumstances, life in the country
could not be cheerful to a young girl like
Aniuta, especially as she did not care for any of

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 253

the pleasures and pastimes which country Hfe
can offer. Her whole education had aimed at
making her a shining star in society. From
her seventh year she used to be the queen of the
children's balls in the large towns where her
parents lived, while her father was in active
service. Ivan Sergejevitsch was proud of his
daughter's triumphs ; he used to say, * Wait till
Aniuta is presented at Court, she will soon turn
the heads of all the Grand Dukes.' Of course,
this was only a joke, but unfortunately the
children, especially Aniuta herself, took it in
real earnest.

Aniuta was a fine girl, tall and shapely, with
delicate complexion and fair curly hair ; she
might almost be called a positive beauty ;
besides, she had a peculiar charm of manners,
and was herself quite aware that she would be
able to lead in any society, if she chose. Under
these circumstances, she thought it dreadful to
waste her time in the dull solitude of Palibino.

Now and then she would go to her father
with tears in her eyes, and reproach him for
keeping her imprisoned in the country. The
first time he answered with a smile and a joke,
but when she repeated her complaint, he ex-
plained to her that, under the present difficult

254 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

circumstances, it was the landowner's duty to
remain on his property, if he did not want to be
ruined. Aniuta could say nothing in reply, she
only felt that these reasons did not make life
pleasanter to her, and that she was wasting the
young years which would never come back
again. So she shut herself up and cried
bitterly.

Ivan Sergejevitsch used to send his wife and
eldest daughter to St Petersburg once a year,
during the winter season, to spend a month or
six weeks with his sister-in-law ; but these visits
were expensive, and scarcely of any use. They
only increased Aniuta's thirst for pleasures
without satisfying it. Serious interests were out
of the question in the circle where they moved,
and no acceptable * parti ' had presented itself as
yet.

These few weeks in the capital went so fast,
that Aniuta had scarcely begun thoroughly to
enjoy herself when she had to leave town and
return to solitude at home, where she spent her
time in regretting past pleasures, and in dream-
ing of future triumphs.

In order to find some occupation for her
restless mind, she would take now one hobby,
now another, and the other members of the

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 255

family would generally join her in her projects,
as they brought some life and change into the
general dulness.

But nobody clung to her with more intense
interest and sympathy than Tania, who admired
her sister immensel)^, although her love was
mixed with the kind of jealousy one feels
secretly, almost unconsciously, of very near and
dear relations, whom one wishes to resemble in
every way.

Aniuta's first besetting mania was novel-
reading, and she was particularly fond of his-
torical novels about the times of chivalry.
They were quite a revelation to her, and her
lively imagination revelled in this marvellous
and romantic world, and applied its ideas to
herself and her surroundings. She could
easily fancy herself a heroine of romance, and
Palibino an old mediaeval castle, and she always
dated her letters from * Chateau Palibino.'

There was a room at the top of a tower
which was never used ; Aniuta had it cleansed
from the dust and cobwebs of years, the walls
covered with ancient tapestry, and decorated
with arms from the lumber-room ; and she made
it her own private residence. Her slender figure
with the tight-fitting white dress, and her long

256 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

fair hair, were very suitable for a noble damsel
of the middle ages. There she would sit in her
tower, bending over her frame and embroidering
the family coat of arms in beads and gold
thread, now and then casting glances down the
road looking out for the hero of her dreams.

' Soeur Anne, sceur Anne, ne vois-tu rien venir?
Je ne vois que la terre qui poudroit et I'herbe qui verdoit?'

However, instead of the expected knight, she
only sees the Ispravnik and some excise-
officers, or an old Jew who comes to buy cattle
or whisky at Palibino.

At last, ' soeur Anne ' got tired of waiting for
her hero, and her romantic fit passed as suddenly
as it had begun.

One day a very sentimental book, ' Harold,'
by Bulwer Lytton, fell into her hands. The story
runs thus : —

After the battle of Hastings, Edith finds
the dead body of her lover, King Harold,
among those slain on the battle-field. Shortly
before his death he had committed perjury, and
he died without time for repentance ; so his soul
is condemned to eternal punishment.

From that day Edith disappears ; nobody ever

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 257

hears from her, she is dead to all. Many years
pass, and her name is almost forgotten.

But on a distant shore, amidst mountains and
wild forests, is a convent, well known for the
severity of its order. Among the nuns is one
who has made a vow never to speak, and who is
venerated by the whole convent for her charity.
She never allows herself any rest ; prayers fill up
most of her time when she is not nursing the sick
or assisting the needy. Wherever there is a dy-
ing person she is found at the bedside imprinting
the parting kiss on his forehead with her sealed
bloodless lips.

Nobody knows who she is or whence she came.
Twenty years ago a woman in a black cloak
knocked at the convent gate, and after a long
secret interview with the Abbess, she remained
there for ever. Now her last hour is at hand.
All the nuns gather around her deathbed.

The priest enters. With the power conferred
on him by our Lord, he dispenses the dying
nun from her vow, and exhorts her to confess
who she is, and what is the particular sin that
weighs on her mind.

The nun makes an effort to sit up in her bed.
The long silence has paralysed her lips, it seems
as if she had lost the gift of speech. For a few

258 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

moments her mouth moves convulsively without
producing any audible sound. But obeying her
confessor's command, she succeeds at last, though
her voice, having been mute for so many years,
sounds hollow and unnatural.

' I am Edith, ' she says, ' I am the bride of
Harold, the slain king.'

On hearing this cursed name the nuns are
seized with horror, and make the sign of the
cross. But the priest says : ' My daughter, it
was a great sinner you loved here on earth. King
Harold is condemned by the Church, our holy
Mother, and he can never find forgiveness — he is
burning for ever in hell. But God has seen your
long atonement and taken pity on your tears of
repentance. Go in peace ! in Paradise you will
find another immortal bridegroom.'

A sudden flush appears on Edith's waxen
cheeks.

' What is Paradise to me without Harold ! '
she exclaims. ' If Harold has not found forgive-
ness, may God never call me to His Paradise !'

'ГЬе nuns are horror-stricken, but the dying
woman makes a superhuman effort ; she starts
from her couch and falls on her knees in front of
the crucifix.

* Almighty God ! ' she bursts out, ' for some

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 259

hours' torments suffered by Thy Son Thou hast
taken the burden of sin from humanity. But
I have suffered a slow, torturing death for twenty
years. Thou knowest my sufferings, Thou hast
seen them. If they have gained me Thy mercy,
forgive Harold ! Give me a token before I die
— while we say the Lord's prayer, allow the light
in front of the crucifix to kindle of itself, and I
shall know that Harold has found salvation. '

The priest says the Lord's prayer slowly and
distinctly ; the nuns repeat the words in a low
voice. They all feel deep pity for the unhappy
Edith, and each of them would gladly sacrifice
her own life to save Harold's soul. Edith lies
stretched on the floor ; her death-struggle has
begun ; the last flickering life is concentrated in
her eyes, which stare fixedly on the image of
Christ.

The light remains unkindled.

The priest has finished his prayer, and adds
his Amen in a melancholy tone.

No miracle ! No forgiveness for Harold !

Edith's lips murmur and curse, and her life is
gone.

This book marked a revolution in Aniuta's
inner life. For the first time she put the question

2бО THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

to herself: ' Is there a future Hfe, or does death
put an end to everything ? Can two lovers meet
in another world and recognise each other ? '

With passionate energy she now took up this
question, as if she were the first who had ever
asked it, and she felt as if she could not live unless
she had an answer. And this crisis in Aniuta's
mind threw its reflection on her younger sister.

It was a beautiful summer evening at sunset,
the air was delightful, and through the open win-
dows came the scent of roses and new-mown
hay ; from the farm yard one heard distant voices
and lowing of cattle — all the sounds that fill the
air on a summer evening in the country. Tania
was ten years old then, and she felt very happy.
She had escaped a few moments from her gover-
ness's superintendence, and rushed up tothe top of
the tower to see what her sister was doing.

And there on the sofa, with floating hair, on
which the parting sunbeams are shining, lies
Aniuta, crying as if her heart would break.

Tania, frightened to death, cries out : ' But,
dearest Aniuta, whatever is the matter?' No
answer.

Aniuta kept silent a long while ; at last she
said : ' You are too young to understand ; I don't
cry over myself, but over all men. You are a

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 26 1

child, you cannot think of such serious matters.
I have been a child too, but this terrible, this
wonderful book has made me look more deeply
into the enigma of life, it has made me see how
false and frivolous the things are for which we
live. The most glorious happiness, the warmest
love — all ends in death. And what awaits us on
the other side — if anything awaits us at all — we
don't know, we shall never know here ! Dread-
ful ! awful ! '

She burst into tears again, and buried her head
in a cushion.

All this would probably have made a grown-
up person smile, but Tania was half dead with
terror, awed by the deep thoughts that filled
Aniuta's mind. All the beauty of the evening
was gone for her, and she felt ashamed to have
been so gay.

' But we know there is a God, and we shall go
to him after death,' she tried to object.

Aniuta looked into her face with a gentle, for-
bearing smile, just like an old, experienced person.

'Oh, yes, you have your pure and innocent
faith ! We won't talk any more about it/ she
said, in a melancholy tone, but, at the same time,
with such an expression of conscious superiority,
that Tania felt ashamed of herself.

2б2 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

The following days Aniuta went about in a
sad but gentle mood, looking as if she had
resigned all worldly pleasures. What was the
use of loving, longing, and hoping for anything,
if death put an end to it all ? '

Novels were done with now ; Aniuta hated
them. She took up the ' Imitation of Christ,'
and resolved to follow the example of Thomas к
Kempis, and to kill her doubts by self-torment
and resignation.

She was kind and indulgent to everybody ; but
it made Tania quite sad to see this expression on
her sister's face.

Aniuta's pious mood was respected by those
surrounding her ; they treated her with gentle
consideration, like an invalid or a person who has
had a great sorrow. Only the governess shrugged
her shoulders incredulously, and her father made
a joking remark about her ' air tenebreux,' as he
called it. But Aniuta received his joke with
calm resignation, and she answered the governess
with a politeness that aggravated her more than
Aniuta's former impudence. Tania felt miser-
able to see her sister like that, and no longer
enjoyed anything herself; at the same time, she
was ashamed at her own want of depth, and
secretly envied Aniuta her deep, strong character.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 263

However, this mood did not last long. Elena
Paulovna's birthday, the 5 th of September, was
approaching ; it was always celebrated as a
great festival. All the neighbours for more than
thirty miles round — about a hundred persons —
came to Palibino, and some special entertain-
ment used to be given that day — fireworks,
tableaux vivants, or theatricals.

Elena Paulovna was very fond of theatricals,
and was a very talented actress herself. That
year, a small stage had been built at Palibino,
with scenery, wings, curtain, etc. In the neigh-
bourhood were some good amateur actors, who
were always ready to take part. Elena Pau-
lovna did not think it proper to show too much
interest in the matter herself, for she wished
people to suppose that it was all got up for the
sake of her grown-up daughter. And now it
was rather awkward that Aniuta had worked
herself up into this saintly mood ! So she began
by degrees, very carefully, to hint at the forth-
coming festival. Aniuta did not yield at once ;
at first she even showed great contempt for the
afTair. * So much trouble ! What's the use of
it ? ' But at last she gave way, with the air of
one yielding to persuasion.

The difficult thing was to find a suitable play,

2б4 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

amusing, yet not too free, and which did not
require too elaborate accessories. At last the
choice fell upon ' Les ceufs de Perette,' a French
vaudeville.

It was the first time Aniuta had acted, and of
course she had the most important part. The
rehearsals began, and she showed an astonishing
talent for acting.

And now, all of a sudden, her fear of death, her
struggle between faith and doubt, her anxiety
about the uncertain ' Hereafter,' vanished. From
morning till night her clear voice was heard
throughout the house, singing French couplets.

After Elena Paulovna's birthday, Aniuta
resumed her tears, but they were shed for a very
different reason now. She wept because her
father would not consent to her ardent wish to
go to a dramatic training school ; she now felt
that it was her vocation in life to become an
actress.

IX

A NIHILIST

At the time Aniuta Rajevski passed through
her romantic and ascetic crises, the young
generation in Russia was seized by very dif-
ferent aspirations and ideals. However, the
Rajevskis Hved so far away from the focus of
new thought, that it took a long time before the
waves of the uproar reached their peaceful home.
When this happened at last, Aniuta at once fell
a prey to them.

How and when the new spirit made its entry
at Palibino would be difficult to say. Before
the Rajevskis were aware of it, the fermentation
came nearer and nearer, and undermined the
pillars of their calm patriarchal existence. The
danger did not come from one side only, it
seemed to be everywhere.

Between the Sixties and Seventies we may say

2бб THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

that all intelligent circles in Russia were taken
up by one great conflict — the family-conflict
between the old and the young. Parents and
children were at variance, not about property
or other practical matters, but exclusively about
theories and abstract questions — 'their views did
not agree.' It was only that, but that 'only'
was sufficient to make children desert their
homes and parents repudiate their children.

It became an epidemic, especially among
young girls, to run away from home. In the
immediate vicinity of Palibino, fortunately no
such thing had occurred, but it was rumoured
now from one place, now from another, that a
daughter had run away, either to study abroad
or to join the Nihilists in St. Petersburg.

It was said that somewhere in the capital a
certain mysterious community existed — the
terror of parents and teachers — which was said
to admit all young girls who wished to leave
their homes. Young people of both sexes were
supposed to live there in perfect equality. No
servants were allowed ; ladies had to scrub the
floors and work with their own hands. Of course
none of the persons who spread these reports
had ever set eyes on the community, and no-
body knew where it was, nor how it could

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 26/

possibly exist in the face of the police, and yet
scarcely anybody doubted its existence.

By and by the tokens of the time began to
appear in the immediate vicinity of Palibino.

The priest of the parish, father Phillip, had
a son who had been the joy of his parents by
reason of his obedience and blameless behaviour.
But he had scarcely ended his studies at the
Seminary, with splendid testimonials, when this
quiet inoffensive youth suddenly came out a
refractory son. He flatly refused to take holy
orders, though he needed only to stretch out his
hand to get a good living. Even his grace the
bishop sent for him and exhorted him not to
leave the church, hinting very clearly that it only
depended upon himself to become a parish priest
in one of the richest counties. It is true, he
would have to marry one of the late priest's
daughters. This was an old custom, the parish
being looked upon as the bride's portion. But
not even this attractive bait tempted the young
man; he preferred to go to St. Petersburg and
enlist as a student at the University, though he
would have to live there at his own expense,
which was almost tantamount to starving.

Poor father Phillip complained bitterly of his
son's folly; he would have put up with it, how-

2б8 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

ever, if he had chosen to study law, which would
have been the most profitable career from a
practical point of view. But instead of this the
young man chose natural science, and came home
the first time he had holidays full of such mad
ideas, that men were descended from monkeys,
and that it had been proved by Professor
Setchenof that there was no soul, only ' reflex
movement,' so that father Phillip was horrified,
and had recourse to holy water, with which he
sprinkled his son.

In former years, when the young man spent
his holidays at home, he never neglected to
appear at Palibino on birthdays, and to show his
respect to the Rajevskis ; at dinner-parties he
would take his seat at the bottom of the table, as
became his position, and do justice to the fare
without mixing in the conversation.

But this summer all was changed. At the
first birthday which occurred after his arrival, he
was conspicuous by his absence. He made his
appearance on another day, and when the foot-
man asked what he wanted, he replied that he
had come to pay a visit to the general.

Ivan Sergejevitsh had heard various reports
about the young nihilist, and it had not escaped
his attention that Alexei Philippovitsch had not

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 269

turned up at the birthday dinner, although of
course he pretended not to have noticed such
an unimportant circumstance. Now he felt
annoyed that the young man dared to come and
pay him a visit as if he were his equal,* and he
resolved to give him a lesson. So he ordered
the servant to tell him that ' the General's time
for receiving petitions or business communica-
tions was before one o'clock in the morning.'

The faithful Ilia was quite equal to the
occasion, and delivered the message in the spirit
in which it was given. However, the visitor was
not in the least abashed by this rebuke, and
only said, ' Will you please give your master my
respects, and tell him that from this day I shall
never put my foot inside his house.'

Ilia delivered the message, and we can imagine
the sensation it produced, not only in the
Rajevski family, but in the whole neighbour-
hood.

But worst of all was Aniuta's behaviour. As
soon as she heard what had happened, she
rushed into her father's room, flushed and
panting with emotion, and exclaimed, ' Why

* The Russian clergy forms a caste by itself, and stands on a
rather low social level ; they are generally treated with a certain
contempt.

270 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

have you offended Alexei Philippovitsch, father ?
It is very bad, it is undignified to treat an honest
man like that ! ' Ivan Sergejevitsch stared at
his daughter. His consternation was so great,
that he could not at first find words to answer
her impertinence. And Aniuta's courage for-
sook her after the first excitement, so that she
retired hastily to her own room.

After having recovered from his amazement,
and thought the matter well over, Ivan Sergeje-
vitsch came to the conclusion that the best plan
would be not to attach much importance to his
daughter's behaviour, but to make fun of it. So
at dinner he sought an opportunity of telling
a story about a princess who undertook to
make herself the champion of a ploughboy, and
of course both were held up to ridicule. Ivan
Sergejevitsch was a past-master in ridicule, and
the children used to dread his sarcasms. But
this time Aniuta listened calmly and coolly to
her father's story, with a mixed expression of
indignation and defiance. And as a further
protest againt the offence to Alexei Philip-
povitsch, she began to seek every opportunity
of meeting him.

Stephen, the coachman, astonished his fellow-
servants by telling them that he had seen Miss

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 27 1

Aniuta walking alone with the young man in
the wood.

' It was great fun to see them ; Miss Aniuta
looked down all the time, and didn't say any-
thing, only now and then she would swing her
sunshade up and down ; he was striding along
on his stilt-legs — ^just like a crane, talking as
fast as he could and gesticulating with his arms ;
then he pulled an old torn book out of his
pocket and began to read to her — as if he was
giving her a lesson ! '

Certainly this youth was very unlike the
prince of romance, or the mediaeval knight of
whom Aniuta had dreamt. His long, un-
shapely figure, thin neck and pale face, his
reddish bristling hair, large coarse hands, and
badly trimmed nails — all this could not make
him a very seductive hero to a young girl
with aristocratic habits and tastes. So it was
very unHkely that Aniuta's interest in him
could be of a romantic kind ; evidently there
was something else which attracted her.

And so it was indeed. This young man came
direct from St Petersburg, and brought the
very newest ideas with him. Besides, he had
been fortunate enough to see with his own eyes
— at a distance only, it is true — several of the

2/2 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

great men to whom all young people at
that time looked up with enthusiastic admira-
tion— Tschernyschefsky, Dobroljodof, Sljeptsef.
This was quite sufficient to render his own
person interesting and attractive. Moreover,
through him Aniuta could get several books
which otherwise she would never have seen.
At Palibino only the most solid and respected
periodicals were admitted, La Revue des deux
Mojides, The Athenceum^ The Russian Messenger.
As a great concession to public opinion, Ivan
Sergejevitsch had been persuaded to subscribe
to the Epocha, Dostojevsky's periodical. But
now Aniuta had found means to get reading of a
very different kind ; periodicals of which every
new number was considered the great event of
the day. Once even her new friend got her a
number of Herzen's prohibited weekly paper,
Kolokol (The Bell).

It would be unjust to accuse Aniuta of
appropriating indiscriminately all the new ideas
preached by the nihilist. Many of them revolted
her, she thought them much too extreme, and
censured them sharply. However, Alexei's con-
versation, and the reading he brought her,
pushed her on and on, and every day she was
carried further towards his own views.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 273

xA.s autumn went on the young student fell
out so completely with his father, that he was
asked to go away, and not to come again next
vacation. In the mean time, the seed he had sown
in Aniuta's mind kept growing and thriving.

There was a thorough change in her whole
appearance ; she wore a plain black dress with a
white collar, and her hair gathered into a net.
Balls and similar entertainments were treated
with contempt. In the morning she called in
poor children and taught them to read, and
when she met a peasant woman on her walks
she would stop and talk kindly to her.

The most important change was, that Aniuta,
who used to hate anything that looked like
serious study, had now a perfect mania for
learned books. Instead of squandering her
pocket-money on frivolity and useless trinkets,
she would send for cases full of books, such as
' The Physiology of Life,' ' The History of
Civilisation,' etc.

One day she went to her father, and startled

him by the request that he would allow her to go

to St. Petersburg to study. Ivan Sergejevitsch

at first tried to turn it off with a laugh, as he had

done when she had asked him to let her live in

town.

S

274 '^11 к SISTERS RAjEVSKl

However, this time she was not to be turned
off. Neither jokes nor sarcasms had any effect.
She insisted with passionate firmness that though
her father might feel obliged to remain on his
property, there was no reason why she should be
chained to the country, where she could find
neither occupation nor pleasure.

At last Ivan Sergejevitsch grew angry and fired
up : 'If you don't understand that it is the duty
of every decent young girl to remain with her
parents till she marries, I am not going to waste
my time in arguing with such a silly fool ! '

Aniuta saw that it was no use insisting ; but
from that moment her relations to her father be-
came very strained, and their mutual resentment
grew bitterer everyday. They only met at dinner,
and then they scarcely spoke to one another, or if
they spoke there was a sharp sting in every word.

In fact, there was now a deep division in this
family. The governess was a bitter antagonist of
the new ideas ; she used to call Aniuta a Nihilist
and a Progressist, and these nicknames had a
peculiarly sharp accent in her mouth. When her
instinct told her that there was something extra-
ordinary going on in Aniuta's mind, she at once
suspected her of criminal intentions — of running
away from home to marry Alexei Philippovitsch,

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKT 275

or to join the ill- famed mysterious community.
Therefore she took upon herself to spy out all
her steps. And Aniuta, feeling that she was
suspected, tried to mystify her still more by her
manners and appearance.

Elena Paulovna was the only member of the
family who pretended not to notice what was
going on ; she always tried to smoothe matters
down, and to reconcile everybody,

Tania was thirteen by this time, and, of course,
the warlike disposition that had taken hold of
the family inevitably exercised a bad effect upon
her. The governess now persisted in protecting
her pupil from the ' Nihilist,' as if she were pest-
smitten, and this constant supervision exasperated
Tania. She was aware that Aniuta's mind was
filled with new and remarkable interests, and she
was dying to know what they were about. When-
ever she managed to rush up a moment to her
sister's room she found her at her writing-table ;
but Aniuta would never tell what she was writ-
ing, as she had been scolded more than once by
the governess for not only going astray herself
but for tempting Tania to do wrong too.' Tania,
dear, do go away now,' she would say. * If Mal-
vina Jakovlevna catches you here, there will be
a row again, you know ! ' And Tania went back

27б THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

to the schoolroom very cross with her governess,
because it was her fault that Aniuta would never
tell her anything. It became more difficult every
day for the poor Englishwoman to get on with
her pupil.

From the conversation she overheard, Tania
had just gathered some such notions as that it
was out of fashion for young people to obey their
elders, and this of course weakened her own
respect for discipline. Now quarrels with her
governess occurred daily, until, at last, after an
unusually excited scene, Malvina Jakovlevna
declared that she was not going to stay any
longer with the Rajevskis.

As this threat had been repeated so often, Tania
did not take much notice of it. This time, how-
ever, it proved to be serious. The governess on
her side had gone too far to retract with honour,
and on the other side everybody had become so
sick of the constant scenes and quarrels that
Tania's parents did not attempt to retain her,
hoping that perhaps the house might become
quieter when she was gone.

But up to the last moment Tania did not
believe that her governess was really going.

X

THE GOVERNESS LEAVES. ANIUTA'S
AUTHORSHIP.

The large old-fashioned box has been standing
in the hall from early morning. On the top of
it are piled up baskets, bags, and parcels, the in-
dispensable battery of luggage, without which no
elderly lady can go on a journey. The carriage is
waiting outside, servants are running to and fro,
only Ilia, the valet, stands motionless, leaning
against the wall ; his whole attitude expressing
a certain contempt ; he does not *see the use of
making all this fuss for such an unimportant
event.

The whole family has gathered in the dining-
room. According to old custom Ivan Serge-
jevitsch asks everybody to sit down ; master and
mistress occupy the seats of honour, the servants
fill up a remote corner, modestly sitting down on
the edge of their chairs. There is a few minutes'

2/8 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

respectful silence ; all feel a little nervous and
solemn at this moment of parting.

At last, the General gives the signal for rising;
he goes up and makes the sign of the cross be-
fore the saint, all follow his example, after which
they proceed to the last embraces and parting
tears.

Tania kept staring at her governess, towards
whom her feelings are undergoing a sudden
change ; the strong woman looks aged and
worn ; her eyes, those * thunderbolts,' as the
children used to call them, which never failed to
detect the smallest offence, are now red and
swollen and full of tears ; her lips are quivering
with emotion. For the first time in her life
Tania pitied her. Malvina clasps her in one
long embrace, and kisses her with a tenderness
she would never have expected.

* Don't forget me, write soon ! ' It is a very
sad thing to part from a child for whom you
have lived so many years ! ' she sobs.

And Tania clings to her and bursts out crying;
her heart aches, and she feels as if the loss of
her governess were quite irreparable, and as if it
foreboded general dissolution. And then her
conscience smites her, she is ashamed of her own
feelings that very morning, when she was happy

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 279

to think that she would be relieved of her gover-
ness's yoke. * It serves me quite right, now she
is going to leave me alone, I am so sorry ; I would
give ever so much to make her stay,' she says to
herself, and cannot tear herself away.

At last the governess gets into the carriage,
and Tania hurries up stairs to the corner-room,
from whence she has a view down the long
avenue of birches, which leads from the manor
to the high-road. She presses her face against
the window, and her eyes follow the carriage till
it is out of sight. The feeling of her own
guilt hurts her. ' She loved me, she would have
stayed if she had known that I was fond of her
too. Nobody cares for me now, nobody!' she
thinks, and her tears begin streaming afresh.

' Are you crying for Malvina?' her brother asks,
as he runs past her, and looks surprised and in-
credulous. ' Leave her alone, Fedia, she is quite
right,' she hears one of her aunts say ; it is her
father's sister, whom none of the children like,
because they think she is false. Tania does not
care to be comforted by her, and impatiently
shaking off the hand with which her aunt is
gently patting her shoulder, she rushes to the
school-room, but seeing it empty she bursts into
a fresh fit of tears. At last she finds a little

280 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

comfort in thinking that nobody now will pre-
vent her from being with her sister as much as
she pleases, and off she rushes to see what
Aniuta is doing.

She finds her pacing up and down the large
hall, lost in her own thoughts, which are evi-
dently of a very exciting nature. Tania knows
from experience how difficult it is to get hold of
her attention at such moments, but after having
waited a while she gets impatient and tries to
rouse her.

' Aniuta, I feel so sad, lend me one of your
books to read,' she says in a pleading voice. No
answer. * Aniuta, what are you thinking of? '
Tania says at last. ' Now do stop a moment,
there's a dear ! '

' You are much too young to hear about such
things,' is the contemptuous reply.

But this was a little too bad, and Tania gets
angry at last. ' How unkind you are ! you won't
even speak to me ! Now Malvina is gone, I
thought we should be such good friends. But
if you drive me avv^ay, I shall go, and I shall
neve?^, never love you again ! '

And Tania runs away swallowing her tears, —
but suddenly her sister calls her back. In her
own heart Aniuta is dying to pour out all that

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 28 1

fills her mind, and as there is nobody else she
can speak to she contents herself with Tania.

' Look here/ she says, ' if you promise to be
silent as the grave about it, I will tell you a great
secret.'

Tania's tears stop immediatelyj her resent-
ment vanishes instantly ; of course she vows
silence, and is very curious to know what her
sister is going to tell her.

' Come to my room ! ' Aniuta says solemnly,
' I will show you something — something you will
never guess.'

And she takes Tania to her room, and to the
old writing-table, where she keeps her important
papers. Slowly and carefully she pulls out one
of the drawers and takes out a large business-
like envelope, with a red seal and stamped
Epocha ; it is addressed to Miss Nikitischna
Kusynin (the housekeeper, who adored Aniuta,
and would have done anything for her), but out
of the large envelope Aniuta takes a smaller one
addressed, ' Miss Anna Ivanovna Rajevski,'
and holds out a letter to Tania, written in a
bold firm hand. It runs as follows : —

'Most Honoured Miss Anna Ivanovna
— Your most kind and confidential letter filled

282 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

me with such interest that I read your story
immediately.

* I confess I began it with a secret misgiving ;
we editors often have the sad duty of crushing
the illusions of young beginners who submit,
their first literary attempts to our judgment, and
in your case this duty would have appeared
particularly painful to me. But as 1 went on,
my fear vanished, and I was thoroughly capti-
vated by the youthful freshness and the warm,
sincere feeling that breathes throughout your
story. These qualities influenced me so much in
your favour, that I fear I am too much under
the spell as yet to enable me to give you
an impartial, categorical answer to your ques-
tion, "if you are likely to become a great
authoress."

* For the present, all I can say is, that I shall
be very much pleased to publish your story in
the next number of my periodical. In reply to
your question, I can only say, write and work —
time must do the rest.

* I cannot deny that your story is too naive in
certain respects, that it wants finish, and that
there are — forgive my sincerity — faults of
grammar. But these defects are of small con-
sequence, and you will get over them if you

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 283

persevere in working. The general impression
is decidedly favourable.

' Therefore, I repeat, write, write ! I should
be much interested if you could find an oppor-
tunity of telling me something about your-
self, your age and your surroundings. All this
would help me greatly to judge of your gifts. —
Yours very sincerely,

* DOSTOJEVSKY.'

Tania was dumfounded, the characters danced
before her eyes. The name of Dostojevsky was
well known to her ; it had often been mentioned
in her discussions with her father. She knew that
he was one of the most prominent Russian
authors, but how coidd it be that he should write
to Aniuta } What did it all mean ? For a
moment the thought flashed through her mind
that Aniuta was joking. She stared at her in
mute surprise, and Aniuta enjoyed it thoroughly.

* Do you see, do you see ? ' she exclaimed at
last, and her voice trembled with joyful emotion,
' I have written a story and sent it to Dostojev-
sky, without breathing a word to a single soul
about it. And you see he approves of it, and
accepts it for his paper. So my secret dream is
fulfilled — I am an authoress ! "

284 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

Tania found no words to express her delight
and surprise ; the two sisters were clasped in a
fond embrace, they smiled with tears in their
eyes, and whispered all kind of follies to one
another.

Of course it was out of the question to tell
anybody else of Aniuta's success ; her mother
would be terribly frightened, and reveal all to
her husband, and in his eyes the step Aniuta
had taken would be a downright crime. Poor
Ivan Sergejevitsch, he had an aversion for lady
authors, and almost thought them capable of
excesses that had nothing whatever to do with
literature. It was, indeed, the very irony of fate
that he should be the father of an authoress !

He had only known one ' blue-stocking/ he
said, the Countess Rostoptschin (a great poetess).
He had met her in Moscow at the time when she
was a brilliant and celebrated beauty, and had
all the young noblemen at her feet, himself
amongst the number. Many years later he saw
her again abroad, in Baden-Baden, at the green
table. ' I could not believe my eyes,' Ivan Serge-
jevitsch used to say when he told this story,
' when I saw the countess come in, followed by
a host of vagabonds, all talking and joking in
the most familiar way. She went up to the

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 285

gambling table, and staked one sovereign after
another, her eyes sparkling, her face flushed, and
her hair in disorder. After having lost her last
coin, she turned round, and exclaimed to her
followers : " Eh bien, messieurs, je suis videe !
Rien ne va plus ! — Come, let us drown our grief
in champagne."

* There, you see what becomes of ladies who
take up pen and ink ! '

So, naturally, Aniuta was not impatient to
tell her father of her literary success. But the
mystery of it lent a peculiar charm to her debut
in her new career, and we can imagine the
delight of the two sisters when, some weeks
later, the Epocha published the story, *The Dream,'
by Zuri Orbjolof (the pseudonym Aniuta had
chosen).

The heroine of the story is a young girl like
herself, educated under similar circumstances and
surroundings ; the hero, a young student of the
modern type, whom she meets one evening, and
who leaves a deep impression on her mind.
However, prejudice and conventionality prevent
her from betraying her feelings. The young man
goes away. Some time after he appears to her
in a dream, holding out before her beautiful
images of a happy future, in which she sees her-

286 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

self leading an active life at his side. Then he
disappears, with these words : ' All this you have
lost ! ' She awakes and makes up her mind to
go and seek her friend. After many adventures,
and much trouble, she finds the house where he
used to live, but here she is told by a friend of
his that he has died a few days ago of typhoid
fever. She also hears that, in his delirium, he
has sometimes raved about a young girl.

Lilienka (the young girl) returns home, but
nobody ever knows where she has been. She
feels certain that she has thrown away her happi-
ness through her own fault, and dies of grief
shortly after.

Aniuta's first success encouraged her to go on,
and she immediately began a new story and
finished it in a few weeks. Dostojevsky was
much more pleased with this second attempt
than with the first; he thought it riper.

But its course did not run so smooth. The
letter from Dostojevsky fell into the hands of
Ivan Sergejevitsch, and now the storm broke
out!

This happened on the 5 th of September, a
memorable day in the annals of the Kajevski
family. It was Elena Paulovna's birthday, and
a large circle of friends were assembled. It

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 287

happened to be the day when the weekly post
came to Palibino. The housekeeper, under
whose name Aniuta carried on her correspond-
ence, used to go out and meet the postman and
take out the letters addressed to her before the
bag was taken to the General. But on this day
she was busy on account of the party, and the
man who generally fetched the post had been
celebrating his mistress's birthday by getting
dead drunk, so that a boy had had to be sent in
his stead, and he did not know anything of the
arrangement with regard to the secret corre-
spondence. In this way the letter fell into the
General's hands without any previous examina-
tion.

The first thing that caught Ivan Sergejevitsch's
eye was a registered letter addressed to the
housekeeper, and bearing the stamp of the
Epocha, What could it mean ? He sent for
the housekeeper and ordered her to open the
letter in his presence.

You can imagine — no, it would be impossible
to imagine the scene that ensued. And worst
of all! — in this letter Dostojevsky happened to
send the payment for the two stories — about 300
rubles. The fact that his daughter received
money from an unknown gentleman appeared

288 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

to the General so shameful and offensive that he
had a severe attack of illness. He suffered from
heart-disease and from gallstone, and the doctors
had declared that strong emotions were dan-
gerous and might be fatal to him. The whole
family therefore dreaded such a catastrophe.
Now, what would be the effect of this awful
shock? and in presence of all the guests, whose
number had been increased on this occasion by
all the officers from the nearest garrison, who
had brought the military band with them.

Dinner was over long ago, and the young
people were preparing for the dance. Aniuta
was all smiles and amiability ; she knew she
would be the queen of the ball, and was enjoying
her triumphs in anticipation.

They were only waiting for the General's ap-
pearance to begin.

Suddenly a servant hurries up to Elena
Paulovna, telling her that his Excellency is
unwell and wants her to come to his study.

There is a general suspense. Elena Paulovna
disappears, the musicians who are ready to
begin playing are ordered to wait.

Half an hour passes, the guests are becoming
uneasy. At last Elena Paulovna comes back,
flushed with emotion, but trying to smile and

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 289

control herself, and answering all anxious ques-
tions by saying that Ivan vSergejevitsch is a little
unwell, and asks to be excused; he hopes they
will begin dancing all the same.

And the ball commences.

Aniuta casts frightened glances at her mother,
and reads in her eyes that something dreadful
has happened. During a momentary interval
she takes her into a corner beseeching her to tell
what is the matter.

'What have you done? All is discovered, your
father has read Dostojevsky's letter, and he is
dying of shame and rage.' And poor Elena
Paulovna tries in vain to keep back her tears.

Aniuta is pale as death, and her mother adds
hurriedly, ' For heaven's sake, control yourself !
remember our guests ! What a delight it would
be to them to get such food for gossip ! Go on —
as if nothing had happened.*

And mother and daughter continue dancing
the whole night, both nearly fainting with fright
in thinking of the storm that awaits them as
soon as the visitors are gone.

And terrible it was indeed !

Ivan Sergejevitsch had locked himself up in
his room, and nobody was admitted. During
the pauses Elena Paulovna and Aniuta had

290 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

been at his door to listen, and had come back to
the party in awful suspense, thinking that he
might be ill.

When the house was quiet, at last, he called
Aniuta, and the outburst of his anger was
dreadful.

Amongst all he said, there was one sentence
which imprinted itself for ever in her memory :
' Anything may be expected of a young girl
capable of entering into correspondence with an
unknown man, and of taking money from him
without her parents' knowledge ! Nozv you sell
your work, but I am not sure that some day you
will not sell yourself!'

Poor Aniuta shrank from these awful words.
She felt indeed that they were not meant in
earnest, but her father spoke with such con-
viction, his expression was so angry, and at the
same time so sad, his authority still so great in
her eyes, that for a moment she was seized with
a painful doubt. Had she deceived herself?
Had she, without knowing it, done something
which was dreadfully indecorous ?

As usual, after such domestic scenes, every-
body looked crestfallen. The servants soon
knew all about it. Ilia had been eaves-dropping,
as was his praiseworthy habit ; he had over-

THE SlSf'^R^ RAJEVSKI 29 1

heard the whole conversation between Ivan Ser-
gejevitsch and Aniuta, and explained it in his
own way.

And, of course, the interesting news spread all
over the neighbourhood, in very exaggerated
proportions, and was the general gossip for a
long time.

By degrees, however, the storm abated. In
the Rajevski family a phenomenon was noticed,
which is not unfrequent in Russian families — the
children educated their parents, beginning with
their mother.

In all scenes between the General and his
children, Elena Paulovna, at first, went entirely
with her husband. His attacks of illness
frightened her, and she was very much displeased
with Aniuta for causing him this grief. Now
and then she would go to her daughter and say
in her most persuasive tone, ' Aniuta dear, now
do give in to your father ; promise that you will
never write again ; you might try to find some
other occupation. When I was young I once
wished to learn the violin, but my father would
not allow it, as he thought it an ungraceful
thing for a lady to do. Well, what was to be
done? Of course, I did not insist, but took
singing lessons instead. Why, now, can't you

292 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

give up that horrid literature, and do something
else ? '

However, when she saw that her attempts
were useless, and that Aniuta persisted in going
about with her melancholy, injured expression,
she began to pity her. And then, she could not
help being curious to read Aniuta's stories, and
feeling a little proud to think that her daughter
was an authoress.

So, by degrees, she went over to Aniuta's
side, and Ivan Sergejevitsch at last found him-
self standing quite alone.

In the anger of the first moment he had
requested Aniuta to vow that she would never
write again, and made his forgiveness depend
upon this condition. Aniuta, of course, could
not give such a promise ; consequently father
and daughter did not speak to one another for
several days, and Aniuta did not even appear
at dinner. Elena Paulovna continued her media-
tion.

At last Ivan Sergejevitsch yielded, in so far
that he consented to hear Aniuta's story.

And in presence of the assembled family this
reading took place. Aniuta, fully conscious of
the importance of this moment, read in a voice
that trembled with emotion.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 293

The heroine's fate was so like the authoress's
that everybody was struck by it. Ivan Sergeje-
vitsch listened in perfect silence. But when
Aniuta came to the last page, where Lilienka is
dying, and bewails her lost youth, her voice
trembled with suppressed sobs, and her father's
eyes filled with tears. He rose without saying a
word, and left the room. He never spoke to
Aniuta about her story, but he treated her with
great tenderness, and everybody understood that
her cause was gained.

A spirit of gentleness and conciliation seemed
to dawn on the family from that day. Its first
important token was, that the housekeeper, whom
Ivan Sergejevitsch had dismissed in his first
wrath, was graciously allowed to remain at her
post.

And the next act of forbearance was even
more astonishing. Ivan Sergejevitsch per-
mitted Aniuta to write to Dostojevsky, only
with the restriction that she was to show him
the letter. More still, he promised that, during
their approaching visit to St Petersburg, she was
to make his personal acquaintance.

When his wife and daughter went to the
capital, the General used to remain in the
country, as well as Tania, who was under the

294 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

superintendence of her governess. But as Mal-
vina Jakovlevna had left, and her Swiss successor
had not had time to gain perfect confidence,
Elena Paulovna, to Tania's great delight, made
up her mind to take the child with her.

This journey generally took place in January,
when there was excellent sleighing. They had
to travel about forty miles in a telega, and
twenty-four hours by railway, and great prepara-
tions were made in the kitchen for this journey.

And what a wonderful journey it was — through
endless, dense forests, only varied by a number
of lakes, which in winter looked like vast plains
of snow. To Tania it remains as one of the
brightest memories of her childhood.

XI

A WINTER IN ST. PETERSBURG.
DOSTOJEVSKY

Immediately after their arrival in St. Peters-
burg, Aniuta sent an invitation to Dostojevsky,
and the two sisters looked forward to his visit in
feverish excitement. However, it turned out to
be a great disappointment.

Ivan Sergejevitsch had strongly recommended
his wife to be present at their meeting. So,
when Dostojevsky arrived at the appointed
time, he found Aniuta surrounded by her mother
and some old aunts, who were curious to see the
celebrated man. Tania had also begged per-
mission to be present. Aniuta was much
annoyed, and scarcely opened her mouth.
Dostojevsky was disappointed, too, and all
Elena Paulovna's attempts to keep up an
interesting conversation fell to the ground.
Everybody felt uncomfortable, and after having

296 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

stayed for about half-an-hour, the visitor rose,
made a stiff bow to all the ladies, and left with-
out shaking hands with anybody.

Aniuta was very disappointed at having her
pleasure spoilt in this way, and her mother felt
miserable and guilty, though she scarcely knew
why.

Dostojevsky's appearance and manners had
left an unfavourable impression. Though a man
of little more than forty, he looked rather old
and worn ; he kept pulling his thin yellow beard
and biting his lips, and his conversation was
anything but amiable.

However, some days after, he repeated his
visit, and this time was fortunate enough to find
the two sisters alone. He seized Aniuta's hands,
and they sat down on the sofa, and talked
together like old friends. Tania sat by in silence,
her eyes riveted on Fedor Michajlovitsch, and
drinking in every word he said with intense
interest. How changed he was this time ! He
looked so young, was so simple, amiable, and
natural in his manners, and so fascinating.
Tania was quite taken with him.

' What a sweet little sister you have got ! ' he
said, quite unexpectedly, to Aniuta, and now
Aniuta got quite warm in praise of her sister ;

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 297

she even told him that Tania wrote verses, and
showed him her poems. Dostojevsky read some
of them out loud, and said some kind things
about them. Tania beamed and flushed with
delight ; she thought she could have laid down
her life for these two, who were so kind to her,
and whom she admired so much.

They all forgot the time, and three hours had
gone when Elena Paulovna at last came home
from her shopping. She was very much sur-
prised, and a little shocked, when she found
Dostojevsky in the drawing-room alone with
her daughters. However, they all looked so
bright and happy that she soon forgot her
anxiety, and even invited Dostojevsky to stay
and dine with them. From that day he became
a frequent guest in their house. He never
showed to advantage in society, but when alone
with a few intimate friends who understood and
admired him, he was fond of talking, and would
give most interesting and graphic descriptions of
many stirring events of his past life, or he would
tell the contents of some novel he was going to
write.

Some of his brightest recollections were con-
nected with the publication of his first great
novel, ' Poor People; ' it had an immense success,

298 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

and was written when he was quite young ; he
had sent it to a periodical, ' The Contempo-
rary,' which was published by the famous critic
Bolinsky, and received contributions from the
rising star the poet Nekrasof, and the celebrated
novelist Gregorovitsch. A great and general
revival took place at that time in Russian
literature. Turgenef, Gontscharof, and Herzen
appeared with their first works. The public
showed an unusual interest in literary produc-
tions, and never had the demand for books and
periodicals been so great.

It was the year of revolt, 1848. All Europe
was in a state of excitement.

In St. Petersburg, particularly amongst the
students at the University and the pupils at the
Polytechnicon, numerous small societies were
formed, which at first only occupied themselves
with literary pursuits. But, as the police had
orders to prohibit all societies, of whatever de-
scription they might be, the young men were
obliged to hold their meetings in secret, and so
by degrees they took a political character. It was
Petroschevski, an unusually clever man and warm
adherent of Fourier, who first conceived the idea
of joining all these small societies into one large
secret political confederation. However, Petro-

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 299

schevski and his party did not aim at open revolt,
nor at any attempt against the Emperor's Hfe,
and their objects appear rather innocent compared
with the NihiHstic propaganda of later years.
The questions discussed at their secret meetings
were mostly of an abstract character, and occa-
sionally rather naif, as for instance : Can we
reconcile the killing of spies and traitors with the
principles of philanthropy? or. Are the doctrines
of the Greek Church incompatible with Fourier's
ideals?

Dostojevsky joined Petroschevski's party. It
appeared from subsequent investigations that his
crime had been to read an account of Fourier's
principles at one of the secret meetings, and to
have been involved in a plan for establishing a
secret printing office.

The punishment for this offence was — Siberia! *

April 23 rd, 1849, was a fatal day to the Pet-
roschevskists ; the chief and thirty of his adher-
ents were arrested on that day.

Dostojevsky gave a detailed and graphic
account of their long imprisonment and trial.
* It was not till February 23rd, the following

* It must be remembered that Dostojevsky was an officer in the
Russian army. — ( Translator's note).

300 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

year, that my sentence was read to me in my
cell. I was condemned to be shot !

' Nothing Avas said about the time, but scarcely
an hour had passed, when the gaoler appeared
and told me to put on my own clothes. Under
strong escort I was led out into the yard, where
nineteen of my companions were waiting. It
was seven o'clock in the morning. We were put
into carriages, four in each, accompanied by a
soldier.

* " Where are we going ? " we asked ; " I must
not tell you," the soldier replied. And as the
carriage windows were covered with ice we could
see nothing outside.

' At last we reached Senajenovski Square. In
the middle of it a scaffold was raised, up to
which we were led and ranged in two lines. We
were so carefully watched that it was impossible
to say more than a few words to those that stood
nearest.

* A sheriff appeared on the scaffold and read
out our sentence of death ; it was to be executed
instantly.

' Twenty times the fatal words were repeated :
" Sentenced to be shot ! " And so indelibly were
the words graven into my memory, that for years
afterwards I would awake in the middle of the

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 3OI

night, fancying I heard them being read. But at
the same time I distinctly remember another cir-
cumstance: the officer, after having finished the
reading, folded the paper and put it into his
pocket, after which he descended from the scaf-
fold. At this moment the sun broke through the
clouds, and I thought, "It is impossible, they can't
mean to kill us !" and I whispered these words to
my nearest companion, but instead of answering,
he only pointed to a line of coffins that stood
near the scaffold, covered with a large cloth.

' All my hope vanished in an instant, and I
expected to be shot in a few minutes.

* It gave me a great fright, but I determined
not to show any fear, and I kept talking to my
companion about different things. He told me
afterwards that I had not even been very pale.

' All of a sudden a priest ascends the scaffold,
and asks if any of the condemned wishes to con-
fess his sins. Only one accepted the invitation,
but when the priest held out the crucifix we all
touched it with our lips.

' Petroschevsky and two others, who were con-
sidered the most culpable, were already tied to
the poles and had their heads covered with a
kind of bag, and the soldiers stood ready to fire
cit the com^mand " Fire ! "

302 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

' I thought I might perhaps have five minutes
more to Hve, and awful these moments were. I
kept staring at a church with a gilt dome, which
reflected the sunbeams, and I suddenly felt as
if these beams came from the region where I
was to be myself in a few moments !

'Then there was a general stir. I was too
short-sighted to discern anything, but I felt that
something extraordinary was happening. At
last I descried an officer, who came galloping
across the square, waving a white handkerchief.
He was sent by the emperor to announce our
pardon. Afterwards we learned that the sen-
tence of death had only been a threat, intended
as " a lesson not to be forgotten." But this lesson
had fatal consequences for many of us. When
Grigorief was released from the pole, he had be-
come mad through the terror he had undergone
whilst waiting for the fatal shot, and he never
recovered his reason. Nor do I think that any
of us escaped without lifelong injury to his
nervous system,

* Besides, when we were taken up to the scaf-
fold, they took off our clothes, so that we had spent
more than twenty minutes standing in our bare
shirts in a cold of 22 deg. Reaumur below
freezing point ! When we came back to our

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 303

prisons, some of us had their ears and toes
frozen ; one got inflammation of the lungs, which
ended in consumption. As for myself, I don't
remember to have had the slightest sensation of
the cold.

' Our sentence of death had been changed to
eight years' penal servitude in Siberia, and many
years' subsequent exile.'

Aniuta and Tania knew that Dostojevsky
suffered from epileptic fits, but to them this dis-
ease was connected with a kind of mysterious
horror, so they never dared breathe a word
about it. To their great surprise one day he
broached the subject himself, and told them
under what circumstances the first fit had seized
him.

He had left his prison and was living as a
colonist somewhere in Siberia. He suffered
dreadfully from solitude at the time, and some-
times several months would pass without his
seeing a living creature. One day — it was
Easter-eve — one of his old friends came on an
unexpected visit. But in the delight of their
meeting they forgot the holy festival, and sat up
all night in endless talk about literature and
philosophy, and at last about religion. His
visitor was an atheist, Dostojevsky himself a

304 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

believer, and each was thoroughly convinced
that he was right.

' There is a God, there is ! ' Dostojevsky ex-
claimed at last, beside himself with enthusiasm.

And at that moment the church bells chimed
for morning service. The air vibrated with these
solemn tones. ' And I felt,' Dostojevsky con-
tinued, 'how heaven descended on earth, and
carried me away. " There is a God," I exclaimed,
and then I lost consciousness.'

' Healthy persons like yourself,' he said, ' have
no idea of the bliss we feel the moment before
the seizure. Mahomet says in his Koran that
he has been in Paradise. The ignorant and undis-
cerningcallhimaliarandanimpostor. No! he does
not lie ! He had really been in T'aradise during an
attack of epilepsy, from which he suffered like
myself

' I cannot tell if this bliss lasts for seconds,
hours, or months, but, believe me, I would not
exchange it for all the happiness life can
give ! '

Dostojevsky said these last words in a peculiar
whisper. The sisters felt spellbound by the mag-
netic pbwer of his words. Suddenly the same
thought struck them : he is going to have a fit
now !

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 305

There was a twitch in his face and a contrac-
tion about his mouth.

Dostojevsky read their thoughts, and suddenly
stopped with a smile. ' Don't be afraid/ he said,
' I always know beforehand when the fit is com-
ing on.'

The young girls felt rather embarrassed and
ashamed that he had guessed their thoughts,
and did not know what to answer. Soon "after
Dostojevski left, but he told them afterwards that
he had had a fit the following night.

Elena Paulovna and Dostojevsky had become
great friends, and she even persuaded him to
accept an invitation to a large farewell party she
was going to give before leaving town.

Unfortunately, this entertainment turned out
a coriiplete failure, and Dostojevsky's presence
was a fatal mistake. He felt more uncomfortable
than ever in this large heterogeneous society. As
usual on similar occasions, he was rude and un-
pleasant. He tried to monopolise Aniuta the
whole evening, and took great offence when Elena
Paulovna called her daughter away to attend to
her other guests. The fact was that Dostojevsky
was seriously in love, and that one of the gentle-
men present, a young officer, had roused his
jealousy by the marked attentions he paid the
и

зоб THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

young girl. Some very unpleasant scenes oc-
curred in the course of the evening, and Dos-
tojevsky scandalised the party by a wild outburst
of temper, in which he threw out a broad hint
about parents selling their daughters for worldly
advantages.

After this party the relations between Dos-
tojevsky and Aniuta were quite changed. He was
irritable and exacting, and tormented her with
his jealousy ; she no longer looked up to him as be-
fore, but seemed to find pleasure in teasing him.

In the early stage of their acquaintance Aniuta
had gladly given up all other pleasures on the
days when Dostojevsky was expected, and when
he was in the room her thoughts had been en-
tirely taken up with him. Now all this had
changed. When he came whilst other visitors
луеге present, she quietly continued entertain-
ing them, and if she received an invitation for
the days when Dostojevsky had promised to
come, she wrote to him excusing herself

Then he used to appear the following day,
and to be very excited. Aniuta, pretending not
to notice his bad humour, would take up some
work.

This irritated him still more ; he would sit in
a corner without saying a word.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 307

'Where did you go yesterday?' he would
burst out at last in an irritated tone.

' To a ball/ Aniuta replies.

' You danced ? '

' Of course.'

' With your cousin ? '

' With him and with others.'

' And you find pleasure in those things !'

Aniuta shrugs her shoulders.

' Why shouldn't I ? ' she replies, resuming her
work.

* You are a frivolous, thoughtless doll/ he
exclaims at last.

In this way they used to talk.

But in proportion as the relations between
these two seemed to become more strained, the
friendship between Dostojevsky and Tania grew
warmer. Of course her blind admiration flat-
tered him, and he would frequently hold up
Tania as an example to her sister.

When Aniuta pretended not to understand his
paradoxes, Fedor Michajlovitsch would fire up,
exclaiming:

' You have a shallow and narrow mind ! look
at your sister ! She understands me, she has
depth and delicacy of mind.'

On these occasions Tania blushed with delight,

308 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

and she would have cut herself in pieces to prove
how well she understood him.

And indeed, strange as it may seem, Tania
did understand Dostojevsky. She guessed his
warm and tender feelings, she honoured him,
not only on account of his genius, but because of
his sufferings. His originality captivated her
and fertilized her own imagination.

If Dostojevsky had been able to look into this
young heart, he would have been deeply touched
to see the place he occupied in it.

In the depths of her heart Tania was very much
pleased that Dostojevsky appeared less infatuated
with Aniuta than he had been at first, and yet
she was ashamed of this feeling, as if it were a
kind of treason.

Fedor Michajlovitsch called Tania his little
friend, and he would even commend her outward
appearance at the expense of her sister.

'You think you are good-looking,' he would
say; ' I can assure you, your sister will be much
prettier than you some day. Her face is much
more expressive, and then she has a pair of
genuine gipsy-eyes ! You — why, you have a
rather pleasant little German face, that's
all'

Aniuta smiled contemptuously; but Tania

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 309

swallowed eagerly the unusual praise of her
beauty.

She would have liked to know what her sister
thought of all this, and if she herself would
indeed become good-looking some day. So
when they were going to bed that evening she
said, ^ What funny things Fedor Michajlovitsch
was saying to-day!' — trying to look as uncon-
cerned as possible.

'What do you mean?' Aniuta asked; she had
evidently forgotten the whole conversation.

' Oh well, that about the gipsy-eyes, and about
my being good-looking,' says Tania, blushing
deeply.

Aniuta turns her graceful neck and looks at
Tania with a sly, expressive glance.

' So you fancy Fedor Michajlovitsch thinks you
good-looking, better looking than me?' she asks.

The wonderful mysterious smile in Aniuta's
green eyes, and her fair flowing curls, make her
look like a mermaid. In the large looking-glass
opposite the bed, Tania sees her own little dark
person beside that of her sister. It would be a
great mistake to say that she feels satisfied with
the comparison, but her sister's cold self-com-
placent tone irritates her, and she says with some
temper —

ЗЮ THE SISTERS RAJEVSKT

'Oh, well, tastes differ!'

'Indeed, tastes are queer sometimes,' Aniuta
says calmly, and continues to brush her hair.

They put out the light, but Tania keeps on
brooding over the same thing.

'Is it possible?' she asks herself, 'Can Fedor
Michajlovitsch really think me better looking
than Aniuta?' and she adds these words to her
prayer,

' Good Lord, let all the world admire Aniuta,
but let Fedor Michajlovitsch only think that I
am prettier.'

But a bitter disappointment was in store for
poor Tania.

Dostojevsky had strongly advised Tania to
keep up her music. She was not very musical,
but her regular daily practising had given her
some execution, a good touch and facility in
reading. She once happened to play a piece to
Dostojevsky — variations on Russian ballads —
which pleased him particularly, because he was
in a mood to enjoy music, and so he became
quite enthusiastic about it and broke out in
exaggerated praise of Tania's musical gifts. Of
course this was sufficient for Tania to make a
fresh start. She took lessons of a first-rate
teacher, and spent every leisure hour at the

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 31I

piano. She was going to prepare a great sur-
prise for Dostojevsky in practising the ' Sonate
pathetique/ which he had said was his favourite
piece.

It was rather a difficult task, but after some
time Tania mastered it pretty well, and was
only awaiting an opportunity to exhibit her
skill.

One day shortly before the Rajevskis were to
leave town, the two sisters were alone, as their
mother and aunts were going out to dinner.
Dostojevsky came in the evening; he seemed a
little nervous and queer, but not irritable, as he
was wont to be of late.

Tania, thinking how delighted he would be to
hear his favourite piece of music, sat down and
began to play. Anxious to do her very best,
she was soon so entirely absorbed by her music,
that she forgot everything else. At last she
had done, and feeling that she had really done
well was waiting for the applause from him for
whom all this trouble had been taken. But there
was deep silence. Tania looked round — the
room was empty.

Her heart sank ; a vague misgiving seized her.
She went into the next room — nobody was there.
At last she came to the little corner-room, and

312 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

lifted the curtain which separated it from the
other apartments ; — and what did she see ?
Aniuta and Dostojevsky sitting together on the
sofa! the room was dimly lighted, and Aniuta's
face was hidden by the lamp-shade, but Dosto-
jevsky's face was seen distinctly — it was pale
and excited ; he was holding Aniuta's hand, and
bending towards her; he spoke in a passionate
whisper.

' Anna Ivanovna, don't you understand that I
have loved you from the first moment I saw
you ; nay, before I saw you, when I read your
letters ? I love you, not as a friend — no, pas-
sionately, with all my heart — '

And Tania! She nearly fainted. A bitter
feeling of loneliness came over her; she felt
deeply wronged; all the blood rushed to her
heart and then to her head.

She dropped the curtain and rushed out of the
room, upsetting a chair in her hurry.

Her sister started. * Is it you, Tania?' she
said. But Tania neither answered nor stopped
till she reached her own room at the other end
of the house. She tore off her dress, fell on her
bed and buried her face in the pillows.

Her heart was overflowing. Till now she had
never fully realised her feeling for Dostojevsky,

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 313

not in the deepest recesses of her heart had she
owned to herself that she was in love with him,
and indescribable were the feelings of bitterness,
wrong and shame that swelled her poor heart in
this terrible hour.

At last she began to wish that her sister would
come.

' They don't care for me, they wouldn't care if
I were dying ! Oh, I wish I could die now ! '
and her grief found vent in a flood of tears.

Sleep was out of the question. At last Tania
hears the door-bell ring and quick steps outside ;
the ladies were coming home, she heard them
talking, and distinguished Dostojevsky's voice
taking leave. The hall door was shut, and Aniuta's
steps approached in the passage.

Tania could not bear the light that fell on her
face, neither could she endure to meet Aniuta's
happiness, so she turned round pretending to be
asleep.

Aniuta went up to her : * You're not asleep ? *
she said. No answer.

' Well, if you are offended, I can't help it — it's
all the worse for you, you won't hear anything ! '
Aniuta said, and went to bed as if nothing had
happened.

The next day Tania felt miserable, and went

314 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

in feverish expectation of what Aniuta would
have to tell her. She put no questions, but there
was a hostile feeling in her heart towards her
sister, and when Aniuta came up and tried to
caress her, Tania pushed her away vehemently in
a flash of anger. This offended Aniuta again,
and she left Tania to her own sad humour.

Tania dreaded the moment when Dostojevsky
should come, and expected him every minute, but
he never came. They sat down to dinner — no
Dostojevsky.

There was a concert in the evening. ' Of
course Aniuta will stay at home, he will come,
and they will be alone ! ' Her heart ached with
jealousy. No ! Aniuta went to the concert with
them, and was in high spirits all the time.

When the two sisters were going to bed that
night, Tania could not control herself any longer.
Without looking at her sister, she said :

* When do you expect Fedor Michajlovitsch ? '

Aniuta smiled. ' Well, you don't want to knov/
anything, you won't talk to me, you are offended ! '

Her voice was so kind and gentle that Tania
melted immediately, and her love for Aniuta
came back.

She crept up into her sister's bed, clung to her,
and burst out crying. Aniuta patted her head.

THE SISTERS RAJEVSVI 315

' You little fool/ she said, ' silly little thing ! '
she repeated tenderly. At last she could not help
bursting out into loud laughter :

' Oh, I never heard such a thing before ! You
go and fall in love with a man three times as old
as yourself!'

These words, this laughter, awakened a mad
hope in Tania.

' Then you don't love him? ' she asked, whisper-
ing in breathless emotion.

Aniuta kept thinking for some moments.

' You see/ she began, evidently somewhat
embarrassed, * of course, I like him very much,
and admire him exceedingly. He is as clever
as original, such a genius ! But — how shall I
explain — I don't really love him in such a way ;
I mean not so that I should like to marry him ! '
she burst out at last.

What a load fell from Tania's heart! How
bright she felt at once ! She clasped her sister's
neck and kissed her fondly. Aniuta continued
talking.

' Do you know I am quite surprised myself
that I don't love him. He is so good, so amiable!
At first I really thought I should care for him.
But / am not the kind of wife he wants. The
woman who marries him must give herself up

3l6 THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI

entirely to him, she must have no thought, no
feeling besides him. But that I cannot do ! I
want to live for myself too ! Besides, he is so
nervous, so exacting. It is as if he wanted to
absorb me entirely ; I never feel free in his
presence.'

Aniuta said all this, partly to her sister, partly
to explain the fact to herself Tania seemed to
understand her and sympathise with her, but in
her own heart she thought : ' What bliss it would
be to live with him always, to do everything for
him ! how can Aniuta refuse such happiness ? '
But anyhow, Tania went to sleep that night
much less unhappy than on the preceding night.

The day of departure was approaching. Fedor
Michajlovitsch came once more ; it was his fare-
well visit. He did not stay long, but his man-
ner towards Aniuta was friendly and natural,
and they promised to write to one another.

He was very affectionate with Tania, and gave
her a kiss, but of course he was far from having
any idea of what she had suffered for his sake.

About six months later, Aniuta received a
letter from Dostojevsky telling her that he had
found a wonderful young girl with whom he had
fallen in love, and who had promised to marry

THE SISTERS RAJEVSKI 317

him. This young girl was Anna Grigorjevna,
his second wife. ' If anybody had told me that
six months ago/ Dostojevsky added quite simply
at the end of his letter, ' I give you my word of
honour I should not have believed it'

Tania's wound healed by and by. The home-
journey, indeed, effaced the last trace of the storm
that had raged in her heart.

The two sisters never alluded to the past
event. Their sisterly affection was soon entirely
restored.

They came back to Palibino, to their calm
monotonous country life, but they both felt
that a change must come soon, that great events
were at hand. They seemed to be aware that
they had been allowed to cast a glance into the
future, and they felt convinced that something
new, unusual, and important would happen in
their lives. Both were seized with an immense
indescribable hope, as if the years to come must
bring fulfilment of all their wonderful golden
dreams.

Printed by T, and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty,
at the Edinburgh University Press.

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