“Yes,” she answered.
“But that’s impossible!” I cried frantically. “Don’t you understand that it’s impossible, Natasha, my poor girl!
Why, it’s madness.
Why you’ll kill them, and ruin yourself!
Do you understand that, Natasha?”
“I know; but what am I to do? I can’t help it,” she said and her voice was as full of anguish as though she were facing the scaffold.
“Come back, come back, before it’s too late,” I besought her; and the more warmly, the more emphatically I implored her, the more I realized the uselessness of my entreaties, and the absurdity of them at that moment.
“Do you understand, Natasha, what you are doing to your father?
Have you thought of that?
You know his father is your father’s enemy. Why, the prince has insulted your father, has accused him of stealing money; why, he called him a thief.
You know why they’ve gone to law with one another....
Good heavens! and that’s not the worst. Do you know, Natasha (Oh, God, of course you know it all!) ... do you know that the prince suspected your father and mother of having thrown you and Alyosha together on purpose, when Alyosha was staying in the country with you?
Think a minute, only fancy what you father went through then owing to that slander; why, his hair has turned grey in these two years! Look at him!
And what’s more, you know all this, Natasha. Good heavens!
To say nothing of what it will mean to them both to lose you for ever.
Why, you’re their treasure, all that is left them in their old age.
I don’t want to speak of that, you must know it for yourself. Remember that your father thinks you have been slandered without cause, insulted by these snobs, unavenged!
And now, at this very time, it’s all flared up again, all this old rankling enmity has grown more bitter than ever, because you have received Alyosha.
The prince has insulted your father again. The old man’s anger is still hot at this fresh affront, and suddenly now all this, all this, all these accusations will turn out to be true!
Everyone who knows about it will justify the prince now, and throw the blame on you and your father.
Why, what will become of him now?
It will kill him outright!
Shame, disgrace, and through whom?
Through you, his daughter, his one precious child!
And your mother?
Why, she won’t outlive your old father, you know. Natasha, Natasha!
What are you about?
Turn back!
Think what you are doing!”
She did not speak. At last she glanced at me, as it were, reproachfully. And there was such piercing anguish, such suffering in her eyes that I saw that apart from my words her wounded heart was bleeding already.
I saw what her decision was costing her, and how I was torturing her, lacerating her with my useless words that came too late. I saw all that, and yet I could not restrain myself and went on speaking.
“Why, you said yourself just now to Anna Andreyevna that perhaps you would not go out of the house ... to the service, So you meant to stay; so you were still hesitating?”
She only smiled bitterly in reply.
And why did I ask that?
I might have understood that all was irrevocably settled.
But I was beside myself, too.
“Can you love him so much?” I cried, looking at her with a sinking at the heart, scarcely knowing what I was asking.
“What can I say to you, Vanya?
You see, he told me to come, and here I am waiting for him,” she said with the same bitter smile.
“But listen, only listen,” I began again, catching at a straw; “this can all be arranged differently, quite differently; you need not go away from the house.
I’ll tell you how to manage, Natasha.
I’ll undertake to arrange it all for you, meetings, and everything. Only don’t leave home.
I will carry your letters; why not?
It would be better than what you’re doing.
I know how to arrange it; I’ll do anything for both of you. You’ll see. And then you won’t ruin yourself, Natasha, dear, as you’re doing.... For you’ll ruin yourself hopelessly, as it is, hopelessly.
Only agree, Natasha, and everything will go well and happily, and you can love each other as much as you like. And when your fathers have left off quarrelling (for they’re bound to leave off some day) – then . . .”
“Enough, Vanya, stop!” she interrupted, pressing my hand tightly, and smiling through her tears.
“Dear, kind Vanya!
You’re a good, honourable man!
And not one word of yourself!