girl his hostile air was the final proof that he cared nothing for her. Henceforth she returned reserve for reserve, coldness for coldness. It was not long after this episode that she had her firstexperience of the breathless condition, which was treated as asthma but to no avail. After several months it subsided of its own accord.
Shortly after her seventeenth birthday, she left Odessa, and her father’s house, for St Petersburg, on no other basis than the prospect of an audition with a ballet school. She was without friends in the capital, and had no means of support except for a small inheritance from her mother which she was now old enough to claim. She was successful in her audition, and lived frugally in a rented room in a poor quarter of the city. She formed an attachment with a young man living in the house: a student, A., who was strongly involved in the movement for political reform. He introduced her to a circle of friends of like commitment.
Her interest in the political struggle was wholly subordinate to her involvement with A. She brought to her first love all the pure and generous ardor of that state; their relationship was an affaire de cœur , not of the flesh. But after a while he abandoned her for more important concerns—the coming conflagration. Almost at the same time she was abandoned by her chosen profession: not because she failed in skill or application, but simply that she was becoming a woman, and gaining flesh which she could not lose, even though she was eating next to nothing. She was forced to conclude that nature did not intend her for a prima ballerina. Fortunately, at this distressing time, one of her ballet teachers, a youthful widow who lived alone, befriended her, and invited her to share her home until she had planned what to do with her life. Madame R. became her mentor as well as her friend. They went to concerts and theatres together, and during the day, while Madame R. was at the ballet school, Anna read from her well-stocked library or went for pleasant walks. It was a quiet and happy period in her life, restoring her to good spirits.
The comfortable and mutually convenient arrangement ended when Madame R. unexpectedly decided to remarry. The man in question, a retired naval officer, had become a congenial friend to them both, and Anna had not suspected any special attachment threatening her own tranquil existence. Yet she could not but rejoice at her friend’s well-deserved good fortune. Madame R. and her new husband begged Anna to stay on, but she did not wish to interfere in their happiness. She was uncertain where to go and what to do; but, at just the right moment, an unusually kind fate pushed the young woman towards a new country and a new profession. Her aunt wrote to her from Vienna to say that her father—Anna’s grandfather—who had been living with her for some years had died, and she was alone again. She asked Anna if she would consider coming to live with her, at least for a few months. The young woman did not hesitate to accept the invitation, and left for Vienna, after a sad leavetaking with her kind friend Madame R. and her husband.
Coming face to face with her aunt, for the first time since her mother had been alive, she was overcome by both sadness and happiness. Her first impression was that she was being welcomed by her mother, grown graciously middle-aged. 1 For her part, her aunt doubtless found many poignant reminders of her sister in this sensitive and intelligent young woman of twenty. Aunt and niece slipped at once into a warm relationship, and Frau Anna never found any cause to regret her decision to leave her native country.
As so often happens, the change of environment brought about changes in Frau Anna herself. She had been brought up by her nurse to a somewhat half-hearted belief in the Catholic religion,the faith of her mother’s side of the family. During her adolescent years she had drifted away from it, but now, under her aunt’s
Shortly after her seventeenth birthday, she left Odessa, and her father’s house, for St Petersburg, on no other basis than the prospect of an audition with a ballet school. She was without friends in the capital, and had no means of support except for a small inheritance from her mother which she was now old enough to claim. She was successful in her audition, and lived frugally in a rented room in a poor quarter of the city. She formed an attachment with a young man living in the house: a student, A., who was strongly involved in the movement for political reform. He introduced her to a circle of friends of like commitment.
Her interest in the political struggle was wholly subordinate to her involvement with A. She brought to her first love all the pure and generous ardor of that state; their relationship was an affaire de cœur , not of the flesh. But after a while he abandoned her for more important concerns—the coming conflagration. Almost at the same time she was abandoned by her chosen profession: not because she failed in skill or application, but simply that she was becoming a woman, and gaining flesh which she could not lose, even though she was eating next to nothing. She was forced to conclude that nature did not intend her for a prima ballerina. Fortunately, at this distressing time, one of her ballet teachers, a youthful widow who lived alone, befriended her, and invited her to share her home until she had planned what to do with her life. Madame R. became her mentor as well as her friend. They went to concerts and theatres together, and during the day, while Madame R. was at the ballet school, Anna read from her well-stocked library or went for pleasant walks. It was a quiet and happy period in her life, restoring her to good spirits.
The comfortable and mutually convenient arrangement ended when Madame R. unexpectedly decided to remarry. The man in question, a retired naval officer, had become a congenial friend to them both, and Anna had not suspected any special attachment threatening her own tranquil existence. Yet she could not but rejoice at her friend’s well-deserved good fortune. Madame R. and her new husband begged Anna to stay on, but she did not wish to interfere in their happiness. She was uncertain where to go and what to do; but, at just the right moment, an unusually kind fate pushed the young woman towards a new country and a new profession. Her aunt wrote to her from Vienna to say that her father—Anna’s grandfather—who had been living with her for some years had died, and she was alone again. She asked Anna if she would consider coming to live with her, at least for a few months. The young woman did not hesitate to accept the invitation, and left for Vienna, after a sad leavetaking with her kind friend Madame R. and her husband.
Coming face to face with her aunt, for the first time since her mother had been alive, she was overcome by both sadness and happiness. Her first impression was that she was being welcomed by her mother, grown graciously middle-aged. 1 For her part, her aunt doubtless found many poignant reminders of her sister in this sensitive and intelligent young woman of twenty. Aunt and niece slipped at once into a warm relationship, and Frau Anna never found any cause to regret her decision to leave her native country.
As so often happens, the change of environment brought about changes in Frau Anna herself. She had been brought up by her nurse to a somewhat half-hearted belief in the Catholic religion,the faith of her mother’s side of the family. During her adolescent years she had drifted away from it, but now, under her aunt’s
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