was coveted by the very highest people and those most firmly
established in that highest
circle. This was Countess Korotkova.
Kasatsky began to pay court to her, and not merely for the sake
of his
career. She was
extremelyattractive and he soon fell in
love with her. At first she was
noticeably cool towards him, but
then suddenly changed and became
gracious, and her mother gave
him pressing invitations to visit them. Kasatsky proposed and
was accepted. He was surprised at the
facility with which he
attained such happiness. But though he noticed something strange
and
unusual in the behaviour towards him of both mother and
daughter, he was blinded by being so deeply in love, and did not
realize what almost the whole town knew--namely, that his fiancee
had been the Emperor Nicholas's
mistress the
previous year.
Two weeks before the day arranged for the
wedding, Kasatsky was
at Tsarskoe Selo at his fiancee's country place. It was a hot
day in May. He and his betrothed had walked about the garden and
were sitting on a bench in a shady
linden alley. Mary's white
muslin dress suited her particularly well, and she seemed the
personification of
innocence and love as she sat, now bending her
head, now gazing up at the very tall and handsome man who was
speaking to her with particular
tenderness and self-restraint, as
if he feared by word or
gesture to
offend or sully her
angelicpurity.
Kasatsky belonged to those men of the eighteen-forties (they are
now no longer to be found) who while
deliberately and without any
conscientious scruples condoning
purity" target="_blank" title="n.不纯;杂质">
impurity in themselves, required
ideal and
angelicpurity in their women, regarded all unmarried
women of their
circle as possessed of such
purity, and treated
them
accordingly. There was much that was false and
harmful in
this
outlook, as
concerning the laxity the men permitted
themselves, but in regard to the women that
old-fashioned view
(sharply differing from that held by young people to-day who see
in every girl merely a
female seeking a mate) was, I think, of
value. The girls, perceiving such
adoration, endeavoured with
more or less success to be goddesses.
Such was the view Kasatsky held of women, and that was how he
regarded his fiancee. He was particularly in love that day, but
did not experience any sensual desire for her. On the contrary
he regarded her with tender
adoration as something unattainable.
He rose to his full
height,
standing before her with both hands
on his sabre.
'I have only now realized what happiness a man can experience!
And it is you, my
darling, who have given me this happiness,' he
said with a timid smile.
Endearments had not yet become usual between them, and feeling
himself morally
inferior he felt terrified at this stage to use
them to such an angel.
'It is thanks to you that I have come to know myself. I have
learnt that I am better than I thought.'
'I have known that for a long time. That was why I began to love
you.'
Nightingales trilled near by and the fresh leafage rustled, moved
by a passing breeze.
He took her hand and kissed it, and tears came into his eyes.
She understood that he was thanking her for having said she loved
him. He
silently took a few steps up and down, and then
approached her again and sat down.
'You know . . . I have to tell you . . . I was not disinterested
when I began to make love to you. I wanted to get into society;
but later . . . how
unimportant that became in
comparison with
you--when I got to know you. You are not angry with me for that?'
She did not reply but merely touched his hand. He understood
that this meant: 'No, I am not angry.'
'You said . . .' He hesitated. It seemed too bold to say. 'You
said that you began to love me. I believe it--but there is
something that troubles you and checks your feeling. What is