Fathers and Children by Ivan Turgenev (the best novels to read txt) 📕

ordered her to be taken away, and she was still to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women. The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense green. In the temple itself it was cool even at midday. Anna Sergyevna had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that flows forever both around us and within us.

The day after Bazarov’s arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought her to come with him to the “temple.”

There was about an hour still to lunchtime; the dewy morning had already given place to a sultry day. Arkady’s face retained the expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room, and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this, even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady’s entreaties, she said to herself that it was for the last time.

“Katerina Sergyevna,” he began with a sort of bashful easiness, “since I’ve had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one, very important⁠ ⁠… for me⁠ ⁠… one question, which I have not touched upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed here,” he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance Katya was turning upon him. “I have changed certainly a great deal, and you know that better than anyone else⁠—you to whom I really owe this change.”

“I?⁠ ⁠… Me?⁠ ⁠…” said Katya.

“I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,” Arkady went on. “I’ve not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me⁠ ⁠… much closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself tasks which were beyond my powers.⁠ ⁠… My eyes have been opened lately, thanks to one feeling.⁠ ⁠… I’m not expressing myself quite clearly, but I hope you understand me.”

Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady.

“I suppose,” he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of the birch⁠—“I suppose it’s the duty of everyone to be open with those⁠ ⁠… with those people who⁠ ⁠… in fact, with those who are near to him, and so I⁠ ⁠… I resolved⁠ ⁠…”

But here Arkady’s eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread, stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up to in all this, and to be waiting for something.

“I foresee I shall surprise you,” began Arkady, pulling himself together again with an effort, “especially since this feeling relates in a way⁠ ⁠… in a way, notice⁠ ⁠… to you. You reproached me, if you remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,” Arkady went on, with the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the hope of crossing it as soon as possible; “that reproach is often aimed⁠ ⁠… often falls⁠ ⁠… on young men even when they cease to deserve it; and if I had more self-confidence⁠ ⁠…” (“Come, help me, do help me!” Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn her head.) “If I could hope⁠ ⁠…”

“If I could feel sure of what you say,” was heard at that instant the clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.

Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood still just opposite the temple.

“You see,” pursued Anna Sergyevna, “you and I made a mistake; we are both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are tired; we are both⁠—why affect not to know it?⁠—clever; at first we interested each other, curiosity was aroused⁠ ⁠… and then⁠ ⁠…”

“And then I grew stale,” put in Bazarov.

“You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however, it was to be, we had no need of one another, that’s the chief point; there was too much⁠ ⁠… what shall I say?⁠ ⁠… that was alike in us. We did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady⁠ ⁠…”

“So you need him?” queried Bazarov.

“Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me, and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his aunt, but I don’t wish to conceal from you that I have come to