Insulted and Injured
THE way seemed endless to me. At last we arrived and I went in to my
old friends with a sinking at my heart. I did not know what my leave-taking
would be like, but I knew that at all costs I must not leave their house without
having won forgiveness and reconciliation.
It was by now past three. My old friends were, as usual, sitting alone.
Nikolay Sergeyitch was unnerved and ill, and lay pale and exhausted, half
reclining in his comfortable easy-chair, with his head tied up in a kerchief.
Anna Andreyevna was sitting beside him, from time to time moistening his
forehead with vinegar, and continually peeping into his face with a questioning
and commiserating expression, which seemed to worry and even annoy the old man.
He was obstinately silent, and she dared not be the first to speak. Our sudden
arrival surprised them both. Anna Andreyevna, for some reason, took fright at
once on seeing me with Nellie, and for the first minute looked at us as though
she suddenly felt guilty.
"You see, I've brought you my Nellie," I said, going in.
She has made up her mind, and now she has come to you of her own accord.
Receive her and love her. . . ."
The old man looked at me suspiciously, and from his eyes alone one could
divine that he knew all, that is that Natasha was now alone, deserted,
abandoned, and by now perhaps insulted. He was very anxious to learn the meaning
of our arrival, and he looked inquiringly at both of us. Nellie was trembling,
and tightly squeezing my hand in hers she kept her eyes on the ground and only
from time to time stole frightened glances about her like a little wild creature
in a snare. But Anna Andreyevna soon recovered herself and grasped the situa-
tion. She positively pounced on Nellie, kissed her, petted her, even cried over
her, and tenderly made her sit beside her, keeping the child's hand in hers.
Nellie looked at her askance with curiosity and a sort of wonder. But after
fondling Nellie and making her sit beside her, the old lady did not know what to
do next and began looking at me with naive expectation. The old man frowned,
almost suspecting why I had brought Nellie.
Seeing that I was noticing his fretful expression and frowning brows, he put
his hand to his head and said:
"My head aches, Vanya."
All this time we sat without speaking. I was considering how to begin. It was
twilight in the room, a black storm-cloud was coming over the sky, and there
came again a rumble of thunder in the distance.
"We're getting thunder early this spring," said the old man.
But I remember in '37 there were thunderstorms even earlier."
Anna Andreyevna sighed.
"Shall we have the samovar?" she asked timidly, but no one answered, and she
turned to Nellie again.
"What is your name, my darling?" she asked.
Nellie uttered her name in a faint voice, and her head drooped lower than
ever. The old man looked at her intently.
"The same as Elena, isn't it?" Anna Andreyevna went on with more animation..
"Yes," answered Nellie.
And again a moment of silence followed.
"Praskovya Andreyevna's sister had a niece whose name was Elena; and she used
to be called Nellie, too, I remember." observed Nikolay Sergeyitch.
"And have you no relations, my darling, neither father nor mother?" Anna
Andreyevna asked again.
"No," Nellie jerked out in a timid whisper.
"I'd heard so, I'd heard so. Is it long since your mother died?"
"No, not long."
"Poor darling, poor little orphan," Anna Andreyevna went on, looking at her
The old man was impatiently drumming on the table with his fingers.
"Your mother was a foreigner, wasn't she? You told me so, didn't you, Ivan
Petrovitch?" the old lady persisted timidly.
Nellie stole a glance at me out of her black eyes, as though begging me to
help her. She was breathing in hard, irregular gasps.
"Her mother was the daughter of an Englishman and a Russian woman; so she was
more a Russian, Anna Andreyevna.
Nellie was born abroad."
"Why, did her mother go to live abroad when she was married?"
Nellie suddenly flushed crimson. My old friend guessed at once, that she had
blundered, and trembled under a wrathful glance from her husband. He looked at
her severely and turned away to the window.
"Her mother was deceived by a base, bad man," he brought out suddenly,
addressing Anna Andreyevna. "She left her father on his account, and gave her
father's money into her lover's keeping; and he got it from her by a trick, took
her abroad, robbed and deserted her. A good friend remained true to her and
helped her up to the time of his death. And when he died she came, two years
ago, back to Russia, to her father.
Wasn't that what you told us, Vanya?" he asked me abruptly.
Nellie got up in great agitation, and tried to move towards the door.
"Come here, Nellie," said the old man, holding out his hand to her at last.
"Sit here, sit beside me, here, sit down."
He bent down, kissed her and began softly stroking her head.
Nellie was quivering all over, but she controlled herself. Anna Andreyevna
with emotion and joyful hope saw how her Nikolay Sergeyitch was at last
beginning to take to the orphan.
"I know, Nellie, that a wicked man, a wicked, unprincipled man ruined your
mother, but I know, too, that she loved and honoured her father," the old man,
still stroking Nellie's head, brought out with some excitement, unable to resist
throwing down this challenge to us.
A faint flush suffused his pale cheeks, but he tried not to look at us.
"Mother loved grandfather better than he loved her," Nellie asserted timidly
but firmly. She, too, tried to avoid looking at anyone.
"How do you know?" the old man asked sharply, as impul- sive as a child,
though he seemed ashamed of his impatience.
"I know," Nellie answered jerkily. "He would not receive mother, and ...
turned her away. . . ."
I saw that Nikolay Sergeyitch was on the point of saying something, making
some reply such as that the father had good reason not to receive her, but he
glanced at us and was silent.
"Why, where were you living when your grandfather wouldn't receive you?"
asked Anna Andreyevna, who showed a sudden obstinacy and desire to continue the
conversation on that subject.
"When we arrived we were a long while looking for grand- father," answered
Nellie; "but we couldn't find him anyhow.
Mother told me then that grandfather had once been very rich, and meant to
build a factory, but that now he was very poor because the man that mother went
away with had taken all grandfather's money from her and wouldn't give it back.
She told me that herself."
"Hm!" responded the old man.
"And she told me, too," Nellie went on, growing more and more earnest, and
seeming anxious to answer Nikolay Sergeyitch, though she addressed Anna
Andreyevna, "she told me that grandfather was very angry with her, and that she
had behaved very wrongly to him; and that she had no one in the whole world but
grandfather. And when she told me this she cried.
'He will never forgive me,' she said when first we arrived, but perhaps he
will see you and love you, and for your sake he will forgive me,' Mother was
very fond of me, and she always used to kiss me when she said this, and she was
very much afraid of going to grandfather. She taught me to pray for grandfather,
she used to pray herself, and she told me a great deal of how she used to live
in old days with grandfather, and how grand- father used to love her above
everything. She used to play the piano to him and read to him in the evening,
and grandfather used to kiss her and give her lots of presents. He used to give
her everything; so that one day they had a quarrel on mother's nameday, because
grandfather thought mother didn't know what present he was going to give her,
and mother had found out long before. Mother wanted ear-rings, and grandfather
tried to deceive her and told her it was going to be a brooch, not ear-rings;
and when he gave her the ear-rings and saw that mother knew that it was going to
be ear-rings and not a brooch, he was angry that mother had found out and
wouldn't speak to her for half the day, but afterwards he came of his own accord
to kiss her and ask her forgiveness."
Nellie was carried away by her story, and there was a flush on her pale, wan
little cheek. It was evident that more than once in their corner in the basement
the mother had talked to her little Nellie of her happy days in the past,
embracing and kissing the little girl who was all that was left to her in life,
and weeping over her, never suspecting what a powerful effect these stories had
on the frail child's morbidly sensitive and prematurely developed feelings.
But Nellie seemed suddenly to check herself. She looked mistrustfully around
and was mute again. The old man frowned and drummed on the table again. A tear
glistened in Anna Andreyevna's eye, and she silently wiped it away with her
"Mother came here very ill," Nellie went on in a low voice.
Her chest was very bad. We were looking for grandfather a long time and we
couldn't find him; and we took a corner in an underground room."
"A corner, an invalid!" cried Anna Andreyevna.
"Yes ... a corner . . answered Nellie. "Mother was poor.
Mother told me," she added with growing earnestness, "that it's no sin to be
poor, but it's a sin to be rich and insult people, and that God was punishing
"It was in Vassilyevsky Island you lodged? At Mme. Bubnov's, wasn't it?" the
old man asked, turning to me, trying to throw a note of unconcern into his
question. He spoke as though he felt it awkward to remain sitting silent.
"No, not there. At first it was in Myestchansky Street," Nellie answered. "It
was very dark and damp there," she added after a pause, "and mother got very ill
there, though she was still walking about then. I used to wash the clothes for
her, and she used to cry. There used to be an old woman living there, too, the
widow of a captain; and there was a retired clerk, and he always came in drunk
and made a noise every night. I was dreadfully afraid of him. Mother used to
take me into her bed and hug me, and she trembled all over herself while he used
to shout and swear. Once he tried to beat the captain's widow, and she was a
very old lady and walked with a stick. Mother was sorry for her, and she stood
up for her; the man hit mother, too, and I hit him. . ."
Nellie stopped. The memory agitated her; her eyes were blazing.
"Good heavens!" cried Anna Andreyevna, entirely absorbed in the story and
keeping her eyes fastened upon Nellie, who addressed her principally.
"Then mother went away from there," Nellie went on, "and took me with her.
That was in the daytime. We were walking about the streets till it was quite
evening, and mother was walking about and crying all the time, and holding my
hand. I was very tired. We had nothing to eat that day. And mother kept talking
to herself and saying to me: 'Be poor, Nellie, and when I die don't listen to
anyone or anything. Don't go to anyone, be alone and poor, and work, and if you
can't get work beg alms, don't go to him.' It was dusk when we crossed a big
street; suddenly mother cried out, 'Azorka! Azorka!' And a big dog, whose hair
had all come off, ran up to mother, whining and jumping up to her. And mother
was frightened; she turned pale, cried out, and fell on her knees before a tall
old man, who walked with a stick, looking at the ground. And the tall old man
was grandfather, and he was so thin and in such poor clothes.
That was the first time I saw grandfather. Grandfather was very much
frightened, too, and turned very pale, and when he saw mother kneeling before
him and embracing his feet he tore himself away, pushed mother off, struck the
pavement with his stick, and walked quickly away from us. Azorka stayed behind
and kept whining and licking mother, and then ran after grandfather and took him
by his coat-tail and tried to pull him back. And grandfather hit him with his
stick. Azorka was going to run back to us, but grandfather called to him; he ran
after grandfather and kept whining. And mother lay as though she were dead; a
crowd came round and the police came. I kept calling out and trying to get
mother up. She got up, looked round her, and followed me. I led her home. People
looked at us a long while and kept shaking their heads."
Nellie stopped to take breath and make a fresh effort. She was very pale, but
there was a gleam of determination in her eyes.
It was evident that she had made up her mind at last to tell all.
There was something defiant about her at this moment.
"Well," observed Nikolay Sergeyitch in an unsteady voice, with a sort of
irritable harshness. "Well, your mother had injured her father, and he had
reason to repulse her."
"Mother told me that, too," Nellie retorted sharply; "and as she walked home
she kept saying 'That's your grandfather, Nellie, and I sinned against him; and
he cursed me, and that's why God has punished me.' And all that evening and all
the next day she kept saying this. And she talked as though she didn't know what
she was saying. . ."
The old man remained silent.
"And how was it you moved into another lodging? " asked Anna Andreyevna,
still crying quietly.
"That night mother fell ill, and the captain's widow found her a lodging at
Mme. Bubnov's, and two days later we moved, and the captain's widow with us; and
after we'd moved mother was quite ill and in bed for three weeks, and I looked
All our money had gone, and we were helped by the captain's widow and Ivan
"The coffin-maker, their landlord," I explained.
"And when mother got up and began to go about she told me all about Azorka."
Nellie paused. The old man seemed relieved to turn the conversation to the
"What did she tell you about Azorka?" he asked, bending lower in his chair,
so as to look down and hide his face more completely.
"She kept talking to me about grandfather," answered Nellie; and when she was
ill she kept talking about him, and as soon as she began to get better she used
to tell me how she used to live... Then she told me about Azorka, because some
horrid boys tried once to drown Azorka in the river outside the town, and mother
gave them some money and bought Azorka. And when grandfather saw Azorka he
laughed very much. Only Azorka ran away. Mother cried; grandfather was
frightened and promised a hundred roubles to anyone who would bring back Azorka.
Two days after, Azorka was brought back.
Grandfather gave a hundred roubles for him, and from that time he got fond of
Azorka. And mother was so fond of him that she used even to take him to bed with
her. She told me that Azorka had been used to performing in the street with some
actors, and knew how to do his part, and used to have a monkey riding on his
back, and knew how to use a gun and lots of other things.
And when mother left him, grandfather kept Azorka with him and always went
out with him, so that as soon as mother saw Azorka in the street she guessed at
once that grandfather was close by."
The old man had evidently not expected this about Azorka, and he scowled more
and more. He asked no more questions.
"So you didn't see your grandfather again?" asked Anna Andreyevna.
"Yes, when mother had begun to get better I met grandfather again. I was
going to the shop to get some bread. Suddenly I saw a man with Azorka; I looked
closer and saw it was grand- father. I stepped aside and squeezed up against the
wall, Grandfather looked at me; he looked so hard at me and was so terrible that
I was awfully afraid of him, and walked by. Azorka remembered me, and began to
jump about me and lick my hands.
I went home quickly, looked back, and grandfather went into the shop. Then I
thought, 'he's sure to make inquiries,' and I was more frightened than ever, and
when I went home I said nothing to mother for fear she should be ill again. I
didn't go to the shop next day; I said I had a headache; and when I went the day
after I, met no one; I was terribly frightened so that I ran fast. But a day
later I went, and I'd hardly got round the corner when grandfather stood before
me with Azorka. I ran and turned into another street and went to the shop a
different way; but I suddenly came across him again, and was so frightened that
I stood quite still and couldn't move. Grandfather stood before me and looked at
me a long time and afterwards stroked my head, took me by the hand and led me
along, while Azorka followed behind wagging his tail. Then I saw that
grandfather couldn't walk properly, but kept leaning on his stick, and his hands
were trembling all the time. He took me to a stall at the corner of the street
where ginger-bread and apples were sold. Grandfather bought a ginger-bread cock
and a fish, and a sweetmeat, and an apple; and when he took the money out of his
leather purse, his hands shook dreadfully and he dropped a penny, and I picked
it up. He gave me that penny and gave me the ginger-bread, and stroked me on the
head; but still he said nothing, but walked away.
"Then I went to mother and told her all about grandfather, and how frightened
I had been of him at first and had hidden from him. At first mother didn't
believe me, but afterwards she was so delighted that she asked me questions all
the evening, kissed me and cried; and when I had told her all about it she told
me for the future not to be afraid of him, and that grand- father must love me
since he came up to me on purpose. And she told me to be nice to grandfather and
to talk to him. And next day she sent me out several times in the morning,
though I told her that grandfather never went out except in the evening.
She followed me at a distance, hiding behind a corner. Next day she did the
same, but grandfather didn't come, and it rained those days, and mother caught a
bad cold coming down to the gate with me, and had to go to bed again.
"Grandfather came a week later, and again bought me a ginger- bread, fish and
an apple, and said nothing that time either. And when he walked away I followed
him quietly, because I had made up my mind beforehand that I'd find out where
grand- father lived and tell mother. I walked a long way behind on the other
side of the street so that grandfather didn't see me.
And he lived very far away, not where he lived afterwards and died, but in
another big house in Gorohovoy Street, on the fourth storey. I found out all
that, and it was late when I got home.
Mother was horribly frightened, for she didn't know where I was. When I told
her she was delighted again and wanted to go to see grandfather next day, The
next day she began to think and be afraid, and went on being afraid for three
whole days, so she didn't go at all. And then she called me and said, 'Listen,
Nellie, I'm ill now and can't go, but I've written a letter to your grandfather,
go to him and give him the letter.
And see, Nellie, how he reads it, and what he says, and what he'll do; and
you kneel down and kiss him and beg him to forgive your mother.' And mother
cried dreadfully and kept kissing me, and making the sign of the cross and
praying, and she made me kneel down with her before the ikon, and though she was
very ill she went with me as far as the gate; and when I looked round she was
still standing watching me go...
"I went to grandfather's and opened the door; the door had no latch.
Grandfather was sitting at the table eating bread and potatoes; and Azorka stood
watching him eat and wagging his tail. In that lodging, too, the windows were
low and dark, and there, too, there was only one table and one chair. And he
lived alone. I went in, and he was so frightened that he turned white and began
to tremble. I was frightened, too, and didn't say a word. I only went up to the
table and put down the letter. When grandfather saw the letter he was so angry
that he jumped up, lifted his stick and shook it at me; but he didn't hit me, he
only led me into the passage and pushed me. Before I had got down the first
flight of stairs he opened the door again and threw the letter after me without
opening it. I went home and told mother all about it. Then mother was ill in bed