A Russian Wild Flower; or, the story of a woman in search of a life

Front matter

a OR abe Story os B Woman in searcb of a %ifc BY E. A. BRAYLEY HODGETTS AUTHOR OF 'ROUND ABOUT ARMENIA,' ' IN THE TRACK OF THE RUSSIAN FAMINE,* ETC. LONDON JOHN MACQUEEN HASTINGS HOUSE, NORFOLK ST., STRAND At midnight an angel flew down from the sky, And softly he sang floating by, While the moon, and the stars, and the clouds in array Gave ear to his pure, holy lay. He sang of the pleasures of souls without sin, Who dwelt the grand Heavens within ; Of God, the Almighty, he sang, and his praise Was not hypocritical phrase. The soul of a child in his arms carried he, To struggle and swim in life's sea ; And the melody holy did enter its ear, Remaining to memory dear. And long in the world did it suffer and pine, That child with a spirit divine ; But the.sad songs of earth could not wipe away The memory sweet of that lay.

Lermontoff. (Set to music iy Rubinstein.) CON TEN TS CHAP. PAGE I. OLGA, ...... I II. — Father and Son, .... 15 III.— The Tutor, ..... 25 IV. — Reconnoitring, . . . .31 V. — Agraphia, . . . . .45 VI. — In the Garden, . . . .54 VII. — Proddsorin, ..... 64 VIII.— The Course of Events, • • • 73 IX.— A Scene, ..... 81 X. — Departure, ..... 88 XL— The Ouspenskis, . . . -99 XII.— A Coterie, . . . . .111 XIII.— The World, . . . . .122 XIV. — LlSSENKO, . . . . -135 XV. — An Experience, . . . .146 XVI. — The Nurse's Story, . . . .159 XVII. — Consequences, ..... 172 XVIII.— Retreat, . . . . .184 XIX. — The University Ball, . . . 195 XX. — Nihilismon Horseback, . . . 206 XXI. — The Promise of Spring, . . . 216 Contents VIII CHAP. PAGE XXII.— Sokolniki, . . . . 228 XXIII.— Vassilieff, . . . . .238 XXIV.— ' Strelna,' . . . . .249 XXV. — Run to Earth, . . . . .261 XXYI. — Enterprise, ..... 272 XXVII. — By Appointment, .... 283 XXVIII. — Treachery, ..... 296 XXIX. — The Dawn of a New Day, . . . 307 XXX.— Good-bye !..... 319 XXXI. — Conclusion, .....

Part I Chapter

I OLGA IT was a splendid morning ; one of those heavy, Russian summer mornings when all the world seems hushed and still, no living creature moves, no leaf stirs. The clear blue sky relieves the scenery and hallows it, and the extreme heat and quiet fill the soul with a strange sense of awe and reverence. In Prince Obolenski's garden a female form lay stretched upon the grass, her large black eyes staring into the sky. She was day-dreaming, 'smoking the heavens,' as the Russians say. Her luxuriant dark hair fell over her shoulder A in a single thick plait, caressed her snow-white neck, and meandered lovingly over her figure. She was dressed in the becoming Russian national costume — a crimson skirt and a white blouse, with puffed sleeves which did not reach the elbow, but exposed to view the beautiful symmetry of her arm.

Round her neck, which was partly bared, were hung strings of pearls and corals. Her mouth was round and full, and her nose almost Grecian in outline. Her eyebrows, but slightly curved, be trayed both humour and temper, and that mouth, which looked so good-natured and childlike, could curl sarcastically or be firmly knit in anger. The striking thing about the face was that it showed strong character blended with a gentleness almost angelic. This was Princess Olga, Prince Obo lenski's daughter. She had grown up a wild flower, uncared for and neglected. Both her parents still regarded her as a child, although she was over seventeen, and as they were very charming, easy-going, self-indulgent people they allowed her to run wild. She would often get up early in the morning and ramble into the adjacent pine forest, not to return, perhaps, until the evening.

Here she would pour out her heart in song. If hungry, she would pick OLGA 3 a few wild berries, and could thus have sub sisted for days. She led a sort of Robinson Crusoe life in the summer, fearing nought and dreading no man, and in the winter, during the long evenings, she would pore over the books in her father's library. That worthy nobleman, indeed, was not much given to literary pursuits, but her grandfather had passed for a wit in his day, and had collected a few books of rather an amusing than instructive character ; that is, they were not dull. There were some choice French, German and English classics, a few good translations, and all the works of Pushkin, Lermontoff, Kriloff, Karamzin and even Tour guenieff, not to mention Balzac and Dumas, Fielding and Heine. The present owner of these literary treasures held them in but slight esteem, and occasionally felt considerable mis givings when he found his daughter buried in them.

But his was a comfortable sort of mind which could shake off, with the greatest ease, all feelings of responsibility. Brought up on such mental pabulum, Olga was a strange mixture of childishness and wisdom, of sentimentality and commonsense Her imagination had been awakened, and she had already a vague longing lor the advent of romance in her somewhat monotonous, though happy, life. As she lay thus on the grass she suddenly began to sing one of those plaintive Russian love-songs which seem to palpitate with despair and passion. 'Midst valleys large and beautiful, On a plain so green and wide, There stands and grows a tree of oak In the splendour of his pride. The oak is tall and powerful, But stands alone, poor tree ; Alone, alone, unfortunate ! Like a sentry standeth he ! When burns and glows the noon-day sun, For shade now seek his side ; When tempests roar and fierce winds rage, From rain whom shall he hide ?

No bushes green are growing near, No ivy round him twines, No stalwart fir trees stand in sight, Alone the poor tree pines ! Oh ! it is sad, is solitude, E'en for a greenwood tree ; And oh ! how lonely for a youth Without his love to be ! When she had finished singing she roused her self, sprang up and walked towards the house. OLGA 5 On her way she was met by a splendid Russian mastiff, who bounded up to her, smiling benevol ently, for dogs can smile. He rubbed his head against her dress, looked into her face and barked. Olga took hold of his head by both ears, shook him, and burst out laughing. ' Barboss ! ' she cried ; ' Barboss, old fellow, how are you ? Why have you not come before ? Have you been sleeping, you lazy rogue ? ' Barboss looked foolish and winked apologeti cally. He was a smypathetic brute, and Olga's faithful friend and companion.

He had watched the development of her character, and understood her better than anyone in the house. Olga now took him to the river and gave him his bath by throwing a stick into the water, which he proudly fetched out and affectionately placed at her feet. This was a regular morning's duty. He then tried to rub his wet head against her skirt and to dirty her with his paws. But this Olga would not allow. She ran back to the house, followed by Barboss barking. When she arrived at the verandah, which looked into the flower garden, she found the breakfast-table already laid. The samovar or tea-urn was singing its song of homely comfort, hot rolls, a huge cold pie, and combs of honey stood on the table, and things had a generally appetising appearance, which Olga thoroughly appreciated. A venerable servant, cleanly shaven and inno cent of whiskers, was bringing in a tray with tea things.

On seeing Olga he made a low bow and nearly dropped his tray. 'Good morning, Ivan. Are we going to have breakfast soon ? Is Mamma coming. I am dread fully hungry ! ' Ivan replied, he thought the Prince and Princess would come instantly, and then solemnly shook his singer at Barboss, who had attempted to steal a hot roll. After pottering about a little, Ivan, whose face betrayed that he was bubbling over with some important news, suddenly said in a deferential voice, — ' Have you heard, Olga Michaelovna, that Alexander Michaelovitch is to have a teacher ? I heard it from master this morning, and I think it is high time. The young master behaves dreadfully. He is very wild. But I hope they won't have a German or any outlandish fellow for him. Those Germans are so cunning.' Olga, who was sitting on the balustrade of the verandah gnawing the crust of a piece of black bread, looked up in surprise. ' What !

Is Sasha going to have a teacher ? OLGA 7 Why, he will scratch the poor fellows eyes out before he is an hour in the house ! ' ' It is quite time for the young master to learn, Olga Michaelovna ; he is a gentleman, he ought to be educated and not grow up into an ignorant old fool like myself. Why, he is nearly fifteen. He will be a man before we know it, and will have to go out into the world, and it would never do for a prince to be uneducated.' ' Poor Sasha ! Do you recollect the French governess, Ivan, and how he ill-treated her? Ha ! ha ! ha ! But, Ivan, if Sasha will be a man soon, then surely I must be a woman already, eh ? ' 'And are you not a lady, Olga Michaelovna? Do you not do what you like? Have you not got your own way?' ' No, Ivan, I am treated like a child. I ought to be taken to town, to go to balls and theatres, and to see society, to begin life.' ' Ough !

Olga Michaelovna, what do you want with theatres and balls? The theatres are not worth seeing, and balls are dangerous places to go to. Ladies often catch cold at these same balls and die, or else, the Lord have mercy upon us ! ' he said, crossing himself piously, ' they fall in love there, and then they get married, and that is just as bad. Then they make themselves miserable by putting on fine dresses in which they feel uncomfortable. Pah ! Don't you ever go to balls, Olga Michaelovna. It is an old man who says it.' ' Oh ! but then, Ivan, they wear the fine dresses to make themselves look beautiful, and to make everybody admire them,' and Olga smiled archly. 'You do not want fine dresses, Olga Michael ovna,' said Ivan. ' You are a beauty as you are, a real Russian beauty, without any of those foreign sal lals.

No, Olga Michaelovna, you do not want to go to town. Why should you go to town ? Life is sad in town. In town there are no nightingales to sing to you, no fields and forests to walk in. No, don't go, Olga Michaelovna. And then, if they take you to town they will marry you to some fine gentleman, who will play cards all day and come home drunk at night. No, remain where you are, Olga Michaelovna; you are much better here, with your family. Besides, what should we do without you, Olga Michaelovna?' ' You are an old idiot, Ivan. You do not want me to go into a convent, do you? Or do you want me to die an old maid, sour faced and bad tempered, like Aunt Vera?' Ivan smiled kindly and compassionately. OLGA 9 ' Well, well,' he said, ' please God you will go to town, and see all the fine officers in their nice uniforms, and go to theatres, and wear fine dresses, and get married to a dandy, and then remember what the old fool, Ivan, said.' And with these words Ivan went off to announce that breakfast was on the table.

He was an old cynic, Ivan, and had seen a great deal of the world as his master's valet in the days of yore, when that master was young and flighty. His opinions had, therefore, been arrived at by ex perience and observation. Olga was soon joined by her stately father, Prince Obolenski, a neat-looking, grey-haired, moustachioless man, with keen eyes, fine teeth, white whiskers and full red lips. Olga jumped off the balustrade and kissed his hand, while he saluted her on the forehead. ' Have you had a pleasant walk this morning ? ' he asked kindly, and as though he was talking to a little child. ' Have you gathered any wild strawberries, eh ? You know fruit is gold in the morning, silver in the day and lead in the evening.' 'And which metal is the least indigestible, Papa?' ' Ha ! ha ! not bad, my child.

Well, where have you been ? ' he asked somewhat absently. Olga related, like an obedient child, her very un eventful morning's walk, at which he exclaimed, — ' How charming ! I am sorry I was so lazy this morning and did not come with you.' The prince had never got up early in his life. ' Ah ! Barboss ! How do you do, Barboss ! ' he con tinued, turning his attention to the dog and stroking him. Dogs are great snobs, and Barboss looked quite deferential and pleased while his master bestowed the crumbs, as it were, of his attention. The prince then softly hummed a tune and walked up and down the verandah, looking intensely pleased with himself and conscious of having done his duty. At length the princess made her appearance, and, as it was nearly eleven o'clock by this time, the family sat down to breakfast at once without waiting for Sasha.

The princess was a handsome woman, dark, rather tall and decidedly stout, with remnants of beauty still lingering on her slightly pass/ face. 'Where is Sasha, ma chere? Ivan, tell Alex ander Michaelovitch to come to breakfast. With regard to Sasha, ma chere amie, we must come to some definite decision about him. His education must be taken in hand. You will perhaps recollect that I vvas talking about a teacher for OLGA 11 him the other day. You see, Sasha has ceased to be a child. Since he thrashed that unfortunate French governess, whom you were so jealous of, it has been quite clear that he must have a man to look after him. Letting him run wild as he does will not do. There is not a whole pane of glass in the hothouse ; all our windows are periodically smashed ; the house looks as though an invading army had bivouacked in it.

In short, it is time that something was done. And then, look at his manners ! I am really ashamed of him when anybody comes to see us. The other day he turned Verishockin's hat into a footstool and ruined it. I am positively ashamed of him ! ' ' I am afraid this is all your fault, Prince. Why did you not check him at an earlier age? But, after all, his tricks are harmless and natural.' 'Very well, ma chere, be it so. I merely wanted to ask your advice. I have just had a letter from a friend at Moscow recommend ing me a young student who has finished his studies. He is going to read a little, and would like a place as a tutor with a quiet family in the country. I am assured that he is of most irreproachable morals and, moreover, hideously ugly. Don't you think this is the very man we want ? ' 'All I can say is that I hate and abominate tutors, and why you should wish to fill the house with ugly, vulgar Russian students I can not understand.

An elegant Frenchman, or a handsome Italian, would be much more likely to refine and polish our darling Sasha. Never theless, Michel, I know you mean to have your way, so I must leave this matter to your superior tact.' 'Well, there is a great deal in what you say. But you must remember that Russians are much cheaper than Italians and Frenchmen, less dangerous to the tranquillity of the house hold, though I dare say that does not influence you at all, and, moreover, much more useful. If Sasha is to make his studies in Russia, and enter the service of his country, he will find a Russian tutor of more advantage to him, I fancy, than a foreigner.' At the present day it is no longer requisite to use such arguments as the above. Eussians have ceased to despise their own country ; but at the period we are writing of, 187 — , the cry of Russia for the Russians was only just be ginning to be raised.

Just at this juncture in the conversation a sort of Indian war-whoop was raised, and the OLGA 13 form of Sasha could be seen running along the garden. He was a fair-haired, blue-eyed curly headed, young rascal, who quickly went through the ceremony of salutation with his parents and then settled down with a will to his food. ' Why did you scream like that ? ' asked his father, sternly. But the youth did not heed the question. His mind was given entirely to more important matters. He reached out his hand for a larger piece of pie and nearly upset the boiling tea-urn over his mother. Prince Obo lenski shrugged his shoulders. ' Quelles manieres ! ' he exclaimed as he glanced at his wife. Olga had been sitting with her elbows on the table, listening attentively to the conversation. At length she said, as she saw an opportunity, — ' Papa, when do you think of taking me to Moscow ? ' Princess Obolenski glared at her in amazement, the prince looked grave and pompous. 'We must think about that, Olenka, there is plenty of time yet.

Why, Olenka, you are but a child still!' Olga opened wide her expressive black eyes. ' I am not a child any more, Papa. I don't care for childish things. I am quite grown up, and seventeen years of age. I am not in the least childish, Papa ! ' The prince smiled good-naturedly. ' Well,' he said, ' we must think about it.' Princess Obolenski tossed her head con temptuously. ' What a charming child ! ' she exclaimed. How respectful to her parents.' ' I have grown tired of this place in the country,' Olga continued. ' I want to go among people and to see the world.' ' I am afraid you are a very empty-headed, vain, frivolous girl, Olga,' Princess Obolenski said. 'Have we done breakfast, Michel? Then I can go,' and she majestically swept into the house. Sasha seized as much pie as he could carry, and disappeared at luncheon. only to turn up again When they were left her father, coaxingly. alone Olga went up to ' Now, tell me, Papa, to town next winter ? ' do you think I can go ' Next winter !

Dear me, how impatient you are ! Don't you know that all that is very ex pensive? However, I will think about it,' and Prince Obolenski retired to his study to write for the student.

Chapter II Father And Son The

estates of Prince Michel Obolenski were situated in the province or government of Riazan. Once upon a time they had been a source of wealth and power, but the emancipation of the peasantry had changed all that, and, in common with many of his fellows, Prince Obolenski had seen his income, though not inconsiderable even now, reduced to but a fraction of its former proportions. His mansion, a comfortable wooden building, was old and stood in need of repair; his park and gardens were neglected, grass grew in the pathways, and flowers were scarce. His stables, his out houses and offices, everything bore evidence of the heavy hand of time and of decay. Perhaps Prince Obolenski himself was a little out of repair also, and suffered from the pre vailing epidemic. There was a time when he had been a dashing officer of the Guards, but things had changed with him since then.

In one particular, however, Prince Michel Obolenski had not changed. He had always been a practical man of the world, and such he had remained. Never had he been distinguished for generosity of sentiment. He was always strictly correct and a staunch utilitarian. ' The greatest good for the greatest number' was his creed, and the greatest number was number one. Thus he made few friends and no enemies. Yet he was self-indulgent and lazy, for he had a constitutional aversion to anything faintly resembling work. His father, who had made his way in the world as a man of taste and refinement, was surprised to find that his son despised the accomplishments and studies which ' make for culture.' He positively had no 'tastes.' In their stead he cherished and studied to observe one solemn and sacred principle, which was a sort of loadstar to his life ; it was the beautiful sentiment of obedience to authority.

For, being of rather a philosophical turn of mind, he had early arrived at the conclusion that authority and force were interchangeable terms, and hence that it was well to submit to them with a good grace. So he applied this maxim to life. Even at school he never quarrelled with boys older or bigger than himself, be haved respectfully to his master and was quite a favourite. As he grew older, however, he developed a certain cynical humour, and saw only the comic side of things. He also im bibed certain theories of political economy, especially as to the distribution of wealth and the division of labour. Easy-going and indolent, he had been accustomed to be waited on from childhood, and to regard the hardships and difficulties of life as outside his province. So he considered that the fitness of things and the laws of political economy demanded that the peasants should bear all the pain and privation, and the gentry should enjoy all the pleasures and comforts of this sublunary world; as he belonged to the second category he approved of this wise and beneficent arrangement with all his heart.

His exertions in the acquisition of learning were in accord ance with his philosophical opinions, from which it became evident that his destiny did not lie in the learned walks of life ; indeed he was not even able to matriculate for the university. So his father put him into the Guards, for in those days the military profession was a little less scientific than it is in our times. Launched into the world, he soon became popular, and his character gradually took more definite shape and colour. He took kindly to the many amusements which the gay capital afforded, although, even in his pleasures, he avoided exertion. Riding, skating and dancing he abhorred, but the comfortable ease, the indolent excitement, of the card table had an irresistible fascination for him. In this sort of harmless play his youthful days were passed, until he found it difficult to render a satisfactory account of his debts to his father, who spent his declining years in retirement on his estate devising plans for the amelioration of mankind, which never came to fruition.

Notwithstanding his lofty ideals the father did not reward the trouble his son had taken in writing to him by paying his debts, and so the money-lenders fore closed and the young man had to go through the melancholy process of selling his furniture and pictures and little obj'ets dart, and to leave the service a trifle damaged in reputation. Still, young men will be young men, and his errors were speedily pardoned and a more lucrative career found for him. His father's influence procured him a post in one of the numerous branches of the Russian Civil Service, the officials of which constitute the bulk of the population of St Petersburg. This new pro fession was admirably adapted to develop the young prince's sterling qualities. His respect for authority, his political economy, all these things were simply invaluable to him.

His superiors liked him ; indeed, his partiality for cards was a great recommendation. He had had a severe lesson, and had grown cautious, playing with more tact, and losing only to his superiors, but taking care to win from his colleagues. This was the period of his glory and zenith, and an anecdote is recorded of him at this time which, if true, reflects great credit on his genius. An important commission was sitting, the collection of evidence and preparation of material for which threw much extra work upon his department. Although it was not absolutely necessary for the officials to put in extra time, it was considered convenient to do so. For the work of the commission thus received additional im portance and the officials themselves additional pay. But to have done any work would have been absolutely unpatriotic.

So Prince Obolenski's resourceful genius came to the rescue. He organised card parties, and, to prevent detection and annoyance, invented a pack of his own, composed of tables of statistics, population returns, official reports, etc. Thus the game could proceed comfortably, and the names of the cards could be called out without exciting the least suspicion. But upon a certain day it so happened that the chief of the department, having over-stayed his hours, overheard the gentlemen at their game in the following hot argument, — 'When I played my population returns of Tula, you should have followed with the births and deaths, for you must have known that Ivanoff had the agricultural statistics.' 'Yes,' said another voice, 'but you should have played your spirit licences when you saw me put down the report of the Governor-general of Tula.' 'Gentlemen! gentlemen!' cried a third voice, 'Never mind; we cannot recall the past.

Let us have a fresh game ! Will you cut ? Thank you. Kieff is trumps.' The chiefs curiosity was awakened, he cautiously opened his door so that nobody could hear him, and noiselessly concealed him self behind a desk, watching the game with the greatest interest and bated breath. But one of the inexperienced young men trumped his partner's trick ; flesh and blood could not stand it. His patience forsook the great pillar of the department ; in a moment of self-forget fulness he jumped forward indignantly, and rebuked the foolish youth who had committed so great a mistake. At first the gentlemen were all dumbfounded, but when the chief ex pressed a wish to join the game himself, and to show these boys how to play, they took heart of grace and spent a very pleasant evening. From that day forth the chief found it was absolutely incumbent upon him to superintend the labours of his young gentlemen personally, and the fame of Prince Obolenski spread.

He never neglected any of those opportunities of enriching himself at his country's expense which used to present themselves so frequently in those good old times, until at last even his father was won over. That nobleman gradually began better to understand his son and the advantages of political economy. The world we live in is a sort of kaleidoscope of progress, in which philosophies and theories are constantly ' evolving ' and changing. The Whig of a genera tion ago is a Tory to-day ; the pious Vicar of A RUSSLAN WILD FLOWER 22 Bray, who was a devout Roman Catholic in the days of Queen Mary, became an ardent Anglican, from conviction, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The times had changed, but his religion had not really altered. Old Prince Obolenski had fondly hoped that his son would have followed in his own footsteps, have become noted for his learn ing and his wit, and have lived to attain high distinctions.

But the young man struck out a totally different line, which at first displeased, and then puzzled, the father, who at last, however, acknowledged that means may change, it is the end which remains eternal. So he died contented, without seeing the emancipation of the serfs effected, but glad to think that his Conservative son would safeguard the interests of his house, and protect it from the effects of that very reform which he, as a Liberal, had always ardently advocated. Not many years before this event the son had entered the state of holy matrimony on strictly utilitarian principles. The father had married on the old - fashioned romantic plan. He had fallen passionately in love with a wealthy young lady, who recipro cated his sentiments. They lived happily to gether for a month, then followed two years of utter wretchedness, storm and stress, which were succeeded by the usual calm.

They lived side by side, yet not together, quietly, indifferently, without any feeling of love, jealousy or hatred, nothing but supreme contempt. They spoke in most affectionate terms, called each other en dearing names, never quarrelled, but avoided each other's society as much as possible. Prince Michel, on the other hand, had no illusions about his marriage. The lady was stout, young, inexperienced and rich. She pro fessed no sentimental regard for him, but her mother had pointed out the desirability of the match, and told her how certain gossips had coupled her daughter's name with that of a young officer of Hussars, an indiscreet and penniless cavalier who was much too often at the house. The daughter saw the justice of her mother's remarks; the officer received his conge", and Prince Michel obtained a very handsome young wife, with a large waist and a larger fortune, which he immediately proceeded to spend in St Petersburg, leaving his wife to be consoled by the Hussar, who opportunely returned, and thus all parties were made happy.