Katia

CHAPTER I.. We were in mourning for our mother who had died the preceding autumnand we had spent all the winter alone in the country-Macha Sonia andI.. Macha was an old family friend who had been our governess and hadbrought us all up and my memories of her like my love for her went asfar back as my memories of myself.. Sonia was my younger sister.. The winter had dragged by sad and sombre in our old country-house ofPokrovski. The weather had been cold and so windy that the snow wasoften piled high above our windows; the panes were almost always cloudywith a coating of ice; and throughout the whole season we were shut inrarely finding it possible to go out of the house.. It was very seldom that any one came to see us and our few visitorsbrought neither joy nor cheerfulness to our house. They all had mournfulfaces spoke low as if they were afraid of waking some one werecareful not to laugh sighed and often shed tears when they looked atme and above all at the sight of my poor Sonia in her little blackfrock. Everything in the house still savored of death; the afflictionthe horror of the last agony yet reigned in the air. Mamma's chamber wasshut up and I felt a painful dread and yet an irresistible longing topeep furtively into the chill desolate place as I passed it every nighton my way to bed.. I was at this time seventeen years old and the very year of her deathMamma had intended to remove to the city in order to introduce me intosociety. The loss of my mother had been a great sorrow to me; but I mustconfess that to this grief had been added another that of seeingmyself-young beautiful as I heard from every one that Iwas-condemned to vegetate during a second winter in the country in abarren solitude. Even before the end of this winter the feeling ofregret of isolation and to speak plainly of ennui had so gainedupon me that I scarcely ever left my own room never opened my pianoand never even took a book in my hand. If Macha urged me to occupymyself with something I would reply: I do not wish to I cannot andfar down in my soul a voice kept asking: What is the use? Why 'dosomething'-no matter what-when the best of my life is wearing away soin pure loss? Why? And to this Why? I had no answer except tears.. I was told that I was growing thin and losing my beauty but this gaveme not the slightest concern. Why and for whom should I take interestin it? It seemed to me that my entire life was to drift slowly away inthis desert borne down by this hopeless suffering from which given upto my own resources alone I had no longer the strength nor even thewish to set myself free.. Towards the end of the winter Macha became seriously uneasy about meand determined come what might to take me abroad. But for this moneywas essential and as yet we knew little of our resources beyond thefact that we were to succeed to our mother's inheritance; however wewere in daily expectation of a visit from our guardian who was toexamine the condition of our affairs.