He began bringing her picturebooks, always of an edifying character.
One of them he bought on purpose for her.
Then he began bringing her dainties, sweetmeats in pretty boxes.
On such occasions he would come in with an air of triumph, as though it were his birthday, and Nellie guessed at once that he had come with a present.
But he did not display the presents, but only laughed slyly, seated himself beside Nellie, hinting that if a certain young lady knew how to behave herself and had been deserving of commendation in his absence the young lady in question would merit a handsome reward.
And all the while he looked at her so simply and goodnaturedly that though Nellie laughed at him in the frankest way, at the same time there was a glow of sincere and affectionate devotion in her beaming eyes at that moment.
At last the old man solemnly got up from his chair, took out a box of sweets and as he handed it to Nellie invariably added:
“To my future amiable spouse.”
At that moment he was certainly even happier than Nellie.
Then they began to talk, and every time he earnestly and persuasively exhorted her to take care of her health and gave her impressive medical advice.
“Above all one must preserve one’s health,” he declared dogmatically, “firstly and chiefly in order to remain alive, and secondly in order to be always healthy and so to attain happiness in life.
If you have any sorrows, my dear child, forget them, and best of all try not to think of them.
If you have no sorrows . . . well, then too, don’t think about them, but try to think only of pleasant things ... of something cheerful and amusing.”
“And what shall I think of that’s cheerful and amusing? Nellie would ask.
The doctor was at once nonplussed.
“Well . . .of some innocent game appropriate to your age or, well ... something of that . . .”
“I don’t want to play games, I don’t like games,” said Nellie.
“I like new dresses better.”
“New dresses!
Hm!
Well, that’s not so good.
We should in all things be content with a modest lot in life.
However ... maybe ... there’s no harm in being fond of new dresses.”
“And will you give me a lot of dresses when I’m married to you?
“What an idea!” said the doctor and he could not help frowning.
Nellie smiled slyly and, even forgetting herself for a minute, glanced at me.
“However, I’ll give you a dress if you deserve it by your conduct,” the doctor went on.
“And must I take my medicine every day when I’m married to you?”
“Well, then, perhaps you may not have to take medicine always.” And the doctor began to smile.
Nellie interrupted the conversation by laughing.
The old man laughed with her, and watched her merriment affectionately.
“A playful sportive mind!” he observed, turning to me.
“But still one can see signs of caprice and a certain whimsicalness and irritability.”
He was right.
I could not make out what was happening to her.
She seemed utterly unwilling to speak to me, as though I had treated her badly in some way.
This was very bitter to me.
I frowned myself, and once I did not speak to her for a whole day, but next day I felt ashamed.
She was often crying and I hadn’t a notion how to comfort her.
On one occasion, however, she broke her silence with me.
One afternoon I returned home just before dusk and saw Nellie hurriedly hide a book under the pillow.
It was my novel which she had taken from the table and was reading in my absence.
What need had she to hide it from me?” just as though she were ashamed,” I thought, but I showed no sign of having noticed anything.
A quarter of an hour later when I went out for a minute into the kitchen she quickly jumped out of bed and put the novel back where it had been before; when I came back I saw it lying on the table.
A minute later she called me to her; there was a ring of some emotion in her voice.
For the last four days she had hardly spoken to me.
“Are you ... today ... going to see Natasha?” she asked me in a breaking voice,
“Yes, Nellie. It’s very necessary for me to see her today.”
Nellie did not speak.
“You ... are very ... fond of her?” she asked again, in a faint voice.