BUT in the drawing-room the conversation was already over.

Katerina Ivanovna was greatly excited, though she looked resolute.

At the moment Alyosha and Madame Hohlakov entered, Ivan Fyodorovitch

stood up to take leave. His face was rather pale, and Alyosha looked

at him anxiously. For this moment was to solve a doubt, a harassing

enigma which had for some time haunted Alyosha. During the preceding

month it had been several times suggested to him that his brother Ivan

was in love with Katerina Ivanovna, and, what was more, that he

meant "to carry her off from Dmitri. Until quite lately the idea

seemed to Alyosha monstrous, though it worried him extremely. He loved

both his brothers, and dreaded such rivalry between them. Meantime,

Dmitri had said outright on the previous day that he was glad that

Ivan was his rival, and that it was a great assistance to him, Dmitri.

In what way did it assist him? To marry Grushenka? But that Alyosha

considered the worst thing possible. Besides all this, Alyosha had

till the evening before implicitly believed that Katerina Ivanovna had

a steadfast and passionate love for Dmitri; but he had only believed

it till the evening before. He had fancied, too, that she was

incapable of loving a man like Ivan, and that she did love Dmitri, and

loved him just as he was, in spite of all the strangeness of such a

passion.

    But during yesterday's scene with Grushenka another idea had

struck him. The word "lacerating," which Madame Hohlakov had just

uttered, almost made him start, because half waking up towards

daybreak that night he had cried out "Laceration, laceration,"

probably applying it to his dream. He had been dreaming all night of

the previous day's scene at Katerina Ivanovna's. Now Alyosha was

impressed by Madame Hohlakov's blunt and persistent assertion that

Katerina Ivanovna was in love with Ivan, and only deceived herself

through some sort of pose, from "self-laceration," and tortured

herself by her pretended love for Dmitri from some fancied duty of

gratitude. "Yes," he thought, "perhaps the whole truth lies in those

words." But in that case what was Ivan's position? Alyosha felt

instinctively that a character like Katerina Ivanovna's must dominate,

and she could only dominate someone like Dmitri, and never a man

like Ivan. For Dmitri might- at last submit to her domination "to

his own happiness" (which was what Alyosha would have desired), but

Ivan- no, Ivan could not submit to her, and such submission would

not give him happiness. Alyosha could not help believing that of Ivan.

And now all these doubts and reflections flitted through his mind as

he entered the drawing-room. Another idea, too, forced itself upon

him: "What if she loved neither of them- neither Ivan nor Dmitri?"

    It must be noted that Alyosha felt as it were ashamed of his own

thoughts and blamed himself when they kept recurring to him during the

last month. "What do I know about love and women and how can I

decide such questions?" he thought reproachfully, after such doubts

and surmises. And yet it was impossible not to think about it. He felt

instinctively that this rivalry was of immense importance in his

brothers' lives and that a great deal depended upon it.

    "One reptile will devour the other," Ivan had pronounced the day

before, speaking in anger of his father and Dmitri. So Ivan looked

upon Dmitri as a reptile, and perhaps long done so. Was it perhaps

since he had known Katerina Ivanovna? That phrase had, of course,

escaped Ivan unawares yesterday, but that only made it more important.

If he felt like that, what chance was there of peace? Were there

not, on the contrary, new grounds for hatred and hostility in their

family? And with which of them was Alyosha to sympathise? And what was

he to wish for each of them? He loved them both, but what could he

desire for each in the midst of these conflicting interests? He

might go quite astray in this maze, and Alyosha's heart could not

endure uncertainty, because his love was always of an active

character. He was incapable of passive love. If he loved anyone, he

set to work at once to help him. And to do so he must know what he was

aiming at; he must know for certain what was best for each, and having

ascertained this it was natural for him to help them both. But instead

of a definite aim, he found nothing but uncertainty and perplexity

on all sides. "It was lacerating," as was said just now. But what

could he understand even in this "laceration"? He did not understand

the first word in this perplexing maze.

    Seeing Alyosha, Katerina Ivanovna said quickly and joyfully to

Ivan, who had already got up to go, "A minute! Stay another minute!

I want to hear the opinion of this person here whom I trust

absolutely. Don't go away," she added, addressing Madame Hohlakov. She

made Alyosha sit down beside her, and Madame Hohlakov sat opposite, by

Ivan.

    "You are all my friends here, all I have in the world, dear

friends," she warmly, in a voice which quivered with genuine tears

of suffering, and Alyosha's heart warmed to her at once. "You,

Alexey Fyodorovitch, were witness yesterday of that abominable

scene, and saw what I did. You did not see it, Ivan Fyodorovitch, he

did. What he thought of me yesterday I don't know. I only know one

thing, that if it were repeated to-day, this minute, I should

express the same feelings again as yesterday- the same feelings, the

same words, the same actions. You remember my actions, Alexey

Fyodorovitch; you checked me in one of them"... (as she said that, she

flushed and her eyes shone). "I must tell you that I can't get over

it. Listen, Alexey Fyodorovitch. I don't even know whether I still

love him. I feel pity for him, and that is a poor sign of love. If I

loved him, if I still loved him, perhaps I shouldn't be sorry for

him now, but should hate him"

    .Her voice quivered and tears glittered on her eyelashes.

Alyosha shuddered inwardly. "That girl is truthful and sincere," he

thought, "and she does not love Dmitri any more."

    "That's true, that's true," cried Madame Hohlakov.

    "Wait, dear. I haven't told you the chief, the final decision I

came to during the night. I feel that perhaps my decision is a

terrible one- for me, but I foresee that nothing will induce me to

change it- nothing. It will be so all my life. My dear, kind,

ever-faithful and generous adviser, the one friend I have in the

world, Ivan Fyodorovitch, with his deep insight into the heart,

approves and commends my decision. He knows it."

    "Yes, I approve of it," Ivan assented, in a subdued but firm

voice.

    "But I should like Alyosha, too (Ah! Alexey Fyodorovitch,

forgive my calling you simply Alyosha), I should like Alexey

Fyodorovitch, too, to tell me before my two friends whether I am

right. I feel instinctively that you, Alyosha, my dear brother (for

are a dear brother to me)," she said again ecstatically, taking his

cold hand in her hot one, "I foresee that your decision, your

approval, will bring me peace, in spite of all my sufferings, for,

after your words, I shall be calm and submit- I feel that."

    "I don't know what you are asking me," said Alyosha, flushing.

"I only know that I love you and at this moment wish for your

happiness more than my own!... But I know nothing about such affairs,"

something impelled him to add hurriedly.

    "In such affairs, Alexey Fyodorovitch, in such affairs, the

chief thing is honour and duty and something higher- I don't know what

but higher perhaps even than duty. I am conscious of this irresistible

feeling in my heart, and it compels me irresistibly. But it may all be

put in two words. I've already decided, even if he marries that-

creature," she began solemnly, "whom I never, never can forgive,

even then I will not abandon him. Henceforward I will never, never

abandon him!" she cried, breaking into a sort of pale, hysterical

ecstasy. "Not that I would run after him continually, get in his way

and worry him. Oh, no! I will go away to another town- where you like-

but I will watch over him all my life- I will watch over him all my

life unceasingly. When he becomes unhappy with that woman, and that is

bound to happen quite soon, let him come to me and he will find a

friend, a sister... Only a sister, of course, and so for ever; but

he will learn at least that that sister is really his sister, who

loves him and has sacrificed all her life to him. I will gain my

point. I will insist on his knowing me confiding entirely in me,

without reserve," she cried, in a sort of frenzy. "I will be a god

to whom he can pray- and that, at least, he owes me for his

treachery and for what I suffered yesterday through him. And let him

see that all my life I will be true to him and the promise I gave him,

in spite of his being untrue and betraying me. I will- I will become

nothing but a means for his happiness, or- how shall I say?- an

instrument, a machine for his happiness, and that for my whole life,

my whole life, and that he may see that all his life! That's my

decision. Ivan Fyodorovitch fully approves me."

    She was breathless. She had perhaps intended to express her idea

with more dignity, art and naturalness, but her speech was too hurried

and crude. It was full of youthful impulsiveness, it betrayed that she

was still smarting from yesterday's insult, and that her pride

craved satisfaction. She felt this herself. Her face suddenly

darkened, an unpleasant look came into her eyes. Alyosha at once saw

it and felt a pang of sympathy. His brother Ivan made it worse by

adding:

    "I've only expressed my own view," he said. "From anyone else,

this would have been affected and over-strained, but from you- no. Any

other woman would have been wrong, but you are right. I don't know how

to explain it, but I see that you are absolutely genuine and,

therefore, you are right."

    "But that's only for the moment. And what does this moment stand

for? Nothing but yesterday's insult." Madame Hohlakov obviously had

not intended to interfere, but she could not refrain from this very

just comment.

    "Quite so, quite so," cried Ivan, with peculiar eagerness,

obviously annoyed at being interrupted, "in anyone else this moment

would be only due to yesterday's impression and would be only a

moment. But with Katerina Ivanovna's character, that moment will

last all her life. What for anyone else would be only a promise is for

her an everlasting burdensome, grim perhaps, but unflagging duty.

And she will be sustained by the feeling of this duty being fulfilled.

Your life, Katerina Ivanovna, will henceforth be spent in painful

brooding over your own feelings, your own heroism, and your own

suffering; but in the end that suffering will be softened and will

pass into sweet contemplation of the fulfilment of a bold and proud

design. Yes, proud it certainly is, and desperate in any case, but a

triumph for you. And the consciousness of it will at last be a

source of complete satisfaction and will make you resigned to

everything else."

    This was unmistakably said with some malice and obviously with

intention; even perhaps with no desire to conceal that he spoke

ironically and with intention.

    "Oh, dear, how mistaken it all is!" Madame Hohlakov cried again.

    "Alexey Fyodorovitch, you speak. I want dreadfully to know what

you will say!" cried Katerina Ivanovna, and burst into tears.

Alyosha got up from the sofa.

    "It's nothing, nothing!" she went on through her tears. "I'm

upset, I didn't sleep last night. But by the side of two such

friends as you and your brother I still feel strong- for I know you

two will never desert me."

    "Unluckily I am obliged to return to Moscow- perhaps to-morrow-

and to leave you for a long time- and, unluckily, it's unavoidable,"

Ivan said suddenly.

    "To-morrow- to Moscow!" her face was suddenly contorted; "but-

but, dear me, how fortunate!" she cried in a voice suddenly changed.

In one instant there was no trace left of her tears. She underwent

an instantaneous transformation, which amazed Alyosha. Instead of a

poor, insulted girl, weeping in a sort of "laceration," he saw a woman

completely self-possessed and even exceedingly pleased, as though

something agreeable had just happened.

    "Oh, not fortunate that I am losing you, of course not," she

collected herself suddenly, with a charming society smile. "Such a

friend as you are could not suppose that. I am only too unhappy at

losing you." She rushed impulsively at Ivan, and seizing both his

hands, pressed them warmly. "But what is fortunate is that you will be

able in Moscow to see auntie and Agafya and to tell them all the

horror of my present position. You can speak with complete openness to

Agafya, but spare dear auntie. You will know how to do that. You can't

think how wretched I was yesterday and this morning, wondering how I

could write them that dreadful letter- for one can never tell such

things in a letter... Now it will be easy for me to write, for you

will see them and explain everything. Oh, how glad I am! But I am only

glad of that, believe me. Of course, no one can take your place....

I will run at once to write the letter," she finished suddenly, and

took a step as though to go out of the room.

    "And what about Alyosha and his opinion, which you were so

desperately anxious to hear?" cried Madame Hohlakov. There was a

sarcastic, angry note in her voice.

    "I had not forgotten that," cried Katerina Ivanovna, coming to a

sudden standstill, "and why are you so antagonistic at such a moment?"

she added, with warm and bitter reproachfulness. "What I said, I

repeat. I must have his opinion. More than that, I must have his

decision! As he says, so it shall be. You see how anxious I am for

your words, Alexey Fyodorovitch... But what's the matter?"

    "I couldn't have believed it. I can't understand it!" Alyosha

cried suddenly in distress.

    "He is going to Moscow, and you cry out that you are glad. You

said that on purpose! And you begin explaining that you are not glad

of that but sorry to be- losing a friend. But that was acting, too-

you were playing a part as in a theatre!"

    "In a theatre? What? What do you mean?" exclaimed Katerina

Ivanovna, profoundly astonished, flushing crimson, and frowning.

    "Though you assure him you are sorry to lose a friend in him,

you persist in telling him to his face that it's fortunate he is

going," said Alyosha breathlessly. He was standing at the table and

did not sit down.

    "What are you talking about? I don't understand."

    "I don't understand myself.... I seemed to see in a flash... I

know I am not saying it properly, but I'll say it all the same,"

Alyosha went on in the same shaking and broken voice. "What I see is

that perhaps you don't love Dmitri at all... and never have, from

the beginning.... And Dmitri, too, has never loved you... and only

esteems you.... I really don't know how I dare to say all this, but

somebody must tell the truth... for nobody here will tell the truth."

    "What truth?" cried Katerina Ivanovna,and there was an

hysterical ring in her voice.

    "I'll tell you," Alyosha went on with desperate haste, as though

he were jumping from the top of a house. "Call Dmitri; I will fetch

him and let him come here and take your hand and take Ivan's and

join your hands. For you're torturing Ivan, simply because you love

him- and torturing him, because you love Dmitri through

'self-laceration'-with an unreal love- because you've persuaded

yourself."

    Alyosha broke off and was silent.

    "You... you... you are a little religious idiot- that's what you

are!" Katerina Ivanovna snapped. Her face was white and her lips

were moving with anger.

    Ivan suddenly laughed and got up. His hat was in his hand.

    "You are mistaken, my good Alyosha," he said, with an expression

Alyosha had never seen in his face before- an expression of youthful

sincerity and strong, irresistibly frank feeling. "Katerina Ivanovna

has never cared for me! She has known all the time that I cared for

her- though I never said a word of my love to her- she knew, but she

didn't care for me. I have never been her friend either, not for one

moment; she is too proud to need my friendship. She kept me at her

side as a means of revenge. She revenged with me and on me all the

insults which she has been continually receiving from Dmitri ever

since their first meeting. For even that first meeting has rankled

in her heart as an insult- that's what her heart is like! She has

talked to me of nothing but her love for him. I am going now; but,

believe me, Katerina Ivanovna, you really love him. And the more he

insults you, the more you love him- that's your 'laceration.' You love

him just as he is; you love him for insulting you. If he reformed,

you'd give him up at once and cease to love him. But you need him so

as to contemplate continually your heroic fidelity and to reproach him

for infidelity. And it all comes from your pride. Oh, there's a

great deal of humiliation and self-abasement about it, but it all

comes from pride.... I am too young and I've loved you too much. I

know that I ought not to say this, that it would be more dignified

on my part simply to leave you, and it would be less offensive for

you. But I am going far away, and shall never come back.... It is

for ever. I don't want to sit beside a 'laceration.'... But I don't

know how to speak now. I've said everything.... Good-bye, Katerina

Ivanovna; you can't be angry with me, for I am a hundred times more

severely punished than you, if only by the fact that I shall never see

you again. Good-bye! I don't want your hand. You have tortured me

too deliberately for me to be able to forgive you at this moment. I

shall forgive you later, but now I don't want your hand. Den Dank,

Dame, begehr ich nicht,"* he added, with a forced smile, showing,

however, that he could read Schiller, and read him till he knew him by

heart- which Alyosha would never have believed. He went out of the

room without saying good-bye even to his hostess, Madame Hohlakov.

Alyosha clasped his hands.



    * Thank you, madam, I want nothing.



    "Ivan!" he cried desperately after him. "Come back, Ivan! No,

nothing will induce him to come back now!" he cried again, regretfully

realising it; "but it's my fault, my fault. I began it! Ivan spoke

angrily, wrongly. Unjustly and angrily. He must come back here, come

back," Alyosha kept exclaiming frantically.

    Katerina Ivanovna went suddenly into the next room.

    "You have done no harm. You behaved beautifully, like an angel,"

Madame Hohlakov whispered rapidly and ecstatically to Alyosha. "I will

do my utmost to prevent Ivan Fyodorovitch from going."

    Her face beamed with delight, to the great distress of Alyosha,

but Katerina Ivanovna suddenly returned. She had two hundred-rouble

notes in her hand.

    "I have a great favour to ask of you, Alexey Fyodorovitch," she

began, addressing Alyosha with an apparently calm and even voice, as

though nothing had happened. "A week- yes, I think it was a week

ago- Dmitri Fyodorovitch was guilty of a hasty and unjust action- a

very ugly action. There is a low tavern here, and in it he met that

discharged officer, that captain, whom your father used to employ in

some business. Dmitri Fyodorovitch somehow lost his temper with this

captain, seized him by the beard and dragged him out into the street

and for some distance along it, in that insulting fashion. And I am

told that his son, a boy, quite a child, who is at the school here,

saw it and ran beside them crying and begging for his father,

appealing to everyone to defend him, while everyone laughed. You

must forgive me, Alexey Fyodorovitch, I cannot think without

indignation of that disgraceful action of his... one of those

actions of which only Dmitri Fyodorovitch would be capable in his

anger... and in his passions! I can't describe it even.... I can't

find my words. I've made inquiries about his victim, and find he is

quite a poor man. His name is Snegiryov. He did something wrong in the

army and was discharged. I can't tell you what. And now he has sunk

into terrible destitution, with his family- an unhappy family of

sick children, and, I believe, an insane wife. He has been living here

a long time; he used to work as a copying clerk, but now he is getting

nothing. I thought if you... that is I thought... I don't know. I am

so confused. You see, I wanted to ask you, my dear Alexey

Fyodorovitch, to go to him, to find some excuse to go to them- I

mean to that captain- oh, goodness, how badly I explain it!- and

delicately, carefully, as only you know how to" (Alyosha blushed),

"manage to give him this assistance, these two hundred roubles. He

will be sure to take it.... I mean, persuade him to take it.... Or,

rather, what do I mean? You see it's not by way of compensation to

prevent him from taking proceedings (for I believe he meant to), but

simply a token of sympathy, of a desire to assist him from me,

Dmitri Fyodorovitch's betrothed, not from himself.... But you know....

I would go myself, but you'll know how to do it ever so much better.

He lives in Lake Street in the house of a woman called Kalmikov....

For God's sake, Alexey Fyodorovitch, do it for me, and now... now I am

rather... tired... Good-bye!"

    She turned and disappeared behind the portiere so quickly that

Alyosha had not time to utter a word, though he wanted to speak. He

longed to beg her pardon, to blame himself, to say something, for

his heart was full and he could not bear to go out of the room without

it. But Madame Hohlakov took him by the hand and drew him along with

her. In the hall she stopped him again as before.

    "She is proud, she is struggling with herself; but kind, charming,

generous, "she exclaimed, in a half-whisper. "Oh, how I love her,

especially sometimes, and how glad I am again of everything! Dear

Alexey Fyodorovitch, you didn't know, but I must tell you, that we

all, all- both her aunts, I and all of us, Lise, even- have been

hoping and praying for nothing for the last month but that she may

give up your favourite Dmitri, who takes no notice of her and does not

care for her, and may marry Ivan Fyodorovitch- such an excellent and

cultivated young man, who loves her more than anything in the world.

We are in a regular plot to bring it about, and I am even staying on

here perhaps on that account."

    "But she has been crying- she has been wounded again," cried

Alyosha.

    "Never trust a woman's tears, Alexey Fyodorovitch. I am never

for the women in such cases. I am always on the side of the men."

    "Mamma, you are spoiling him," Lise's little voice cried from

behind the door.

    "No, it was all my fault. I am horribly to blame," Alyosha

repeated unconsoled, hiding his face in his hands in an agony of

remorse for his indiscretion.

    "Quite the contrary; you behaved like an angel, like an angel. I

am ready to say so a thousand times over."

    "Mamma, how has he behaved like an angel?" Lise's voice was

heard again.

    "I somehow fancied all at once," Alyosha went on as though he

had not heard Lise, "that she loved Ivan, and so I said that stupid

thing.... What will happen now?"

    "To whom, to whom?" cried Lise. "Mamma, you really want to be

the death of me. I ask you and you don't answer."

    At the moment the maid ran in.

    "Katerina Ivanovna is ill.... She is crying, struggling...

hysterics."

    "What is the matter?" cried Lise, in a tone of real anxiety.

"Mamma, I shall be having hysterics, and not she!"

    "Lise, for mercy's sake, don't scream, don't persecute me. At your

age one can't know everything that grown-up people know. I'll come and

tell you everything you ought to know. Oh, mercy on us! I am coming, I

am coming.... Hysterics is a good sign, Alexey Fyodorovitch; it's an

excellent thing that she is hysterical. That's just as it ought to be.

In such cases I am always against the woman, against all these

feminine tears and hysterics. Run and say, Yulia, that I'll fly to

her. As for Ivan Fyodorovitch's going away like that, it's her own

fault. But he won't go away. Lise, for mercy's sake, don't scream! Oh,

yes; you are not screaming. It's I am screaming. Forgive your mamma;

but I am delighted, delighted, delighted! Did you notice, Alexey

Fyodorovitch, how young, how young Ivan Fyodorovitch was just now when

he went out, when he said all that and went out? I thought he was so

learned, such a savant, and all of a sudden he behaved so warmly,

openly, and youthfully, with such youthful inexperience, and it was

all so fine, like you.... And the way he repeated that German verse,

it was just like you! But I must fly, I must fly! Alexey Fyodorovitch,

make haste to carry out her commission, and then make haste back.

Lise, do you want anything now? For mercy's sake, don't keep Alexey

Fyodorovitch a minute. He will come back to you at once."

    Madame Hohlakov at last ran off. Before leaving, Alyosha would

have opened the door to see Lise.

    "On no account," cried Lise. "On no account now. Speak through the

door. How have you come to be an angel? That's the only thing I want

to know."

    "For an awful piece of stupidity, Lise! Goodbye!"

    "Don't dare to go away like that!" Lise was beginning.

    "Lise, I have a real sorrow! I'll be back directly, but I have a

great, great sorrow!

    And he ran out of the room.