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parting came. Three days after the funeral we returned to Moscow, and I

never saw her again.

Grandmamma received the sad tidings only on our return to her house, and

her grief was extraordinary. At first we were not allowed to see her,

since for a whole week she was out of her mind, and the doctors were

afraid for her life. Not only did she decline all medicine whatsoever,

but she refused to speak to anybody or to take nourishment, and never

closed her eyes in sleep. Sometimes, as she sat alone in the arm-chair in

her room, she would begin laughing and crying at the same time, with a

sort of tearless grief, or else relapse into convulsions, and scream out

dreadful, incoherent words in a horrible voice. It was the first dire

sorrow which she had known in her life, and it reduced her almost

to distraction. She would begin accusing first one person, and then

another, of bringing this misfortune upon her, and rail at and blame

them with the most extraordinary virulence. Finally she would rise from

her arm-chair, pace the room for a while, and end by falling senseless

to the floor.

Once, when I went to her room, she appeared to be sitting quietly in her

chair, yet with an air which struck me as curious. Though her eyes were

wide open, their glance was vacant and meaningless, and she seemed to

gaze in my direction without seeing me. Suddenly her lips parted slowly

in a smile, and she said in a touchingly, tender voice: "Come here,

then, my dearest one; come here, my angel." Thinking that it was myself

she was addressing, I moved towards her, but it was not I whom she was

beholding at that moment. "Oh, my love," she went on, "if only you could

know how distracted I have been, and how delighted I am to see you once

more!" I understood then that she believed herself to be looking

upon Mamma, and halted where I was. "They told me you were gone," she

concluded with a frown; "but what nonsense! As if you could die before

ME!" and she laughed a terrible, hysterical laugh.

Only those who can love strongly can experience an overwhelming grief.

Yet their very need of loving sometimes serves to throw off their grief

from them and to save them. The moral nature of man is more tenacious of

life than the physical, and grief never kills.

After a time Grandmamma's power of weeping came back to her, and she

began to recover. Her first thought when her reason returned was for us

children, and her love for us was greater than ever. We never left her

arm-chair, and she would talk of Mamma, and weep softly, and caress us.

Nobody who saw her grief could say that it was consciously exaggerated,

for its expression was too strong and touching; yet for some reason or

another my sympathy went out more to Natalia Savishna, and to this day

I am convinced that nobody loved and regretted Mamma so purely and

sincerely as did that simple-hearted, affectionate being.

With Mamma's death the happy time of my childhood came to an end, and

a new epoch--the epoch of my boyhood--began; but since my memories of

Natalia Savishna (who exercised such a strong and beneficial influence

upon the bent of my mind and the development of my sensibility) belong

rather to the first period, I will add a few words about her and her

death before closing this portion of my life.

I heard later from people in the village that, after our return to

Moscow, she found time hang very heavy on her hands. Although the

drawers and shelves were still under her charge, and she never ceased

to arrange and rearrange them--to take things out and to dispose of them

afresh--she sadly missed the din and bustle of the seignorial mansion to

which she had been accustomed from her childhood up. Consequently

grief, the alteration in her mode of life, and her lack of activity soon

combined to develop in her a malady to which she had always been more or

less subject.

Scarcely more than a year after Mamma's death dropsy showed itself, and

she took to her bed. I can imagine how sad it must have been for her

to go on living--still more, to die--alone in that great empty house

at Petrovskoe, with no relations or any one near her. Every one there

esteemed and loved her, but she had formed no intimate friendships in

the place, and was rather proud of the fact. That was because, enjoying

her master's confidence as she did, and having so much property

under her care, she considered that intimacies would lead to culpable

indulgence and condescension. Consequently (and perhaps, also, because

she had nothing really in common with the other servants) she kept them

all at a distance, and used to say that she "recognised neither kinsman

nor godfather in the house, and would permit of no exceptions with

regard to her master's property."

Instead, she sought and found consolation in fervent prayers to God. Yet

sometimes, in those moments of weakness to which all of us are

subject, and when man's best solace is the tears and compassion of his

fellow-creatures, she would take her old dog Moska on to her bed, and

talk to it, and weep softly over it as it answered her caresses by

licking her hands, with its yellow eyes fixed upon her. When Moska

began to whine she would say as she quieted it: "Enough, enough! I know

without thy telling me that my time is near." A month before her death

she took out of her chest of drawers some fine white calico, white

cambric, and pink ribbon, and, with the help of the maidservants,

fashioned the garments in which she wished to be buried. Next she put

everything on her shelves in order and handed the bailiff an inventory

which she had made out with scrupulous accuracy. All that she kept

back was a couple of silk gowns, an old shawl, and Grandpapa's military

uniform--things which had been presented to her absolutely, and which,

thanks to her care and orderliness, were in an excellent state of

preservation--particularly the handsome gold embroidery on the uniform.

Just before her death, again, she expressed a wish that one of the gowns

(a pink one) should be made into a robe de chambre for Woloda; that the

other one (a many-coloured gown) should be made into a similar garment

for myself; and that the shawl should go to Lubotshka. As for the

uniform, it was to devolve either to Woloda or to myself, according as

the one or the other of us should first become an officer. All the rest

of her property (save only forty roubles, which she set aside for her

commemorative rites and to defray the costs of her burial) was to pass

to her brother, a person with whom, since he lived a dissipated life

in a distant province, she had had no intercourse during her lifetime.

When, eventually, he arrived to claim the inheritance, and found that

its sum-total only amounted to twenty-five roubles in notes, he refused

to believe it, and declared that it was impossible that his sister-a

woman who for sixty years had had sole charge in a wealthy house, as

well as all her life had been penurious and averse to giving away even

the smallest thing should have left no more: yet it was a fact.

Though Natalia's last illness lasted for two months, she bore her

sufferings with truly Christian fortitude. Never did she fret or

complain, but, as usual, appealed continually to God. An hour before

the end came she made her final confession, received the Sacrament with

quiet joy, and was accorded extreme unction. Then she begged forgiveness