band, sat herself on his knees, tremblingly threw her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder, so that it might support her head and hide her face, and with choking voice she said, "My dear, I love him," and she began to weep.
"What of that, my dear? Why should you feel disturbed about it?"
"I do not want to offend you, my dear; I want to love you."
"Try. Look here: if you can, it will be well. Be calm; give time a chance, and you will see what you can do, and what you cannot do. You are so dear to me; how, then, can you offend me?"
He smoothed her hair, kissed her head, pressed her hand. She could not for a long time cease her convulsive weeping; but gradually she became calm. But he who had for a long time expected such a confession, was therefore able to take it coolly. However, even yet she could not bear to look at his face.
"I do not want to see him; I shall tell him to cease coming to see us," said Viéra Pavlovna.
"You must act, my love, in the way which you find will give you the greatest happiness. And when you have become calmer, we will talk the matter over; for you and I, no matter what may happen between us, will always be friends, won't we? Give me your hand; press mine. You see how warmly you press it."
Every one of these phrases were spoken at long intervals, and the intervals were filled by his smoothing her hair, fondling her, as a brother fondles a grieved sister.
"Do you remember, my dear, what you told me when we became engaged? 'You are leading me into freedom.'"—Again silence and caresses. "Do you remember how you and I talked the first time about what it means to love a person? It means to feel gladness at whatever is good for that person, to feel pleasure in doing whatever may be to his advantage."—Again silence and caresses—"Whatever is for your best good gives me joy also; but you must decide what is best for you. Why should you be grieved? If it brings you no misfortune, what misfortune can it bring me?"
In these laconic words, which were repeated a good many times, with the ordinary insignificant variations of repetition,
