White nights, and other storiesDostoyevsky, Fyodor
General
White nights, and other stories
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, 1821-1881 -- Translations into English; Russian fiction -- Translations into English
"Half my story you know already--that is, you know that I have an old
grandmother...."
"If the other half is as brief as that ..." I interrupted, laughing.
"Be quiet and listen. First of all you must agree not to interrupt me,
or else, perhaps I shall get in a muddle! Come, listen quietly.
"I have an old grandmother. I came into her hands when I was quite a
little girl, for my father and mother are dead. It must be supposed that
grandmother was once richer, for now she recalls better days. She taught
me French, and then got a teacher for me. When I was fifteen (and now I
am seventeen) we gave up having lessons. It was at that time that I got
into mischief; what I did I won't tell you; it's enough to say that it
wasn't very important. But grandmother called me to her one morning and
said that as she was blind she could not look after me; she took a pin
and pinned my dress to hers, and said that we should sit like that for
the rest of our lives if, of course, I did not become a better girl. In
fact, at first it was impossible to get away from her: I had to work, to
read and to study all beside grandmother. I tried to deceive her once,
and persuaded Fekla to sit in my place. Fekla is our charwoman, she is
deaf. Fekla sat there instead of me; grandmother was asleep in her
armchair at the time, and I went off to see a friend close by. Well, it
ended in trouble. Grandmother woke up while I was out, and asked some
questions; she thought I was still sitting quietly in my place. Fekla
saw that grandmother was asking her something, but could not tell what
it was; she wondered what to do, undid the pin and ran away...."
At this point Nastenka stopped and began laughing. I laughed with her.
She left off at once.
"I tell you what, don't you laugh at grandmother. I laugh because it's
funny.... What can I do, since grandmother is like that; but yet I am
fond of her in a way. Oh, well, I did catch it that time. I had to sit
down in my place at once, and after that I was not allowed to stir.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you that our house belongs to us, that is to
grandmother; it is a little wooden house with three windows as old as
grandmother herself, with a little upper storey; well, there moved into
our upper storey a new lodger."
"Then you had an old lodger," I observed casually.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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