The Rise of David Levinsky - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Rise of David Levinsky Part 11 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
When I had finished my story, flushed with a sense of my histrionic success, she ordered tea and preserves, as though to indemnify me for my past sufferings
"All the more reason for you to study Russian and to become an educated man," she said, as she put sugar into my gla.s.s. She cited the cases of former Talmudists, poor and friendless like myself, who had studied at the universities, fighting every inch of their way, till they had achieved success as physicians, lawyers, writers.
She spoke pa.s.sionately, often with the absurd acerbity of her mother. "It's a crime for a young man like you to throw himself away on that idiotic Talmud of yours," she said, pacing up and down the room fiercely
All this sounded shockingly wicked, and yet it did not shock me in the least
"I have a plan," I said
When she heard what I wanted to do she shook her head and frowned. She said, in substance, that America was a land of dollars, not of education, and that she wanted me to be an educated man. I a.s.sured her that I should study English in America and, after I had laid up some money, prepare for college there (she could have made me promise anything). But colleges in which the instruction was not in Russian failed to appeal to her imagination
Still, when she saw that my heart was set on the project, she yielded. She seemed to like the fervor with which I defended my cause, and the notion of my going to a far-away land was apparently beginning to have its effect. I was the hero of an adventure. Gradually she became quite enthusiastic about my plan
"I tell you what. I can raise the money for you," she said, with a gesture of sudden resolution. "How much is it?"
When I said, forlornly, that it would come to about eighty rubles, she declared, gravely: "That's all right. I shall get it for you. Only, say nothing to mother about it." I thought myself in a flurry of joy over this windfall, but a little later, when I was left to myself, I became aware that the flurry I was in was of quite a different nature. When I tried to think of America I found that my ambition in that direction had lost its former vitality
I was deeply in love with Matilda
CHAPTER III
SHE continued to treat me in a patronizing, playful way; but we were supposed to be great friends and I asked myself no questions.
"The money is a.s.sured," she once announced. "You shall get it in a few days.
You may begin to pack your great baggage," she jested
My heart sank within me, but I feigned exultation
"Do you deserve it, pious soul that you are?" she laughed. And casting a glance at my side-locks, she added: "I do wish you would cut off those horrid things of yours. You won't take them to America, will you?"
I smiled. Small as was my stock of information of the New World, I knew enough of it to understand, in a general way, that side-locks were out of place there
She proceeded to put my side-locks behind my ears, and this time I did not object. She then smoothed them down, the touch of her fingers thrilling me through and through. Then she brought a hand-gla.s.s and made me look at myself.
"Do you see the difference?" she demanded. "If you were not rigged out like the savage that you are you wouldn't be a bad-looking fellow, after all.
Why, girls might even fall in love with you. But then what does a pious soul like you know about such things as love?"
"How do you know I don't?" I ventured to say, blus.h.i.+ng like a poppy
"Do you, really?" she said, with mischievous surprise
I nodded
"Well, well. So you are not quite so saintly as I thought you were!
Perhaps you have even been in love yourself? Have you? Tell me."
I kept silent. My heart was throbbing wildly.
"Do you love me?"
I nodded once more. My heart stood still.
"Kiss me, then."
She put my arms around her, made me clasp her to my breast, and we kissed, pa.s.sionately
I suddenly felt ten years older
She broke away from me, jumping around, slapping her hands and bubbling over with triumphant mirth, as she shouted: "There is a pious soul for you! There is a pious soul for you!"
A thought of little Red Esther of my childhood days flashed through my brain, of the way she would force me to "sin" and then gloat over my "fall."
"A penny for your piety," Matilda added, gravely. "When you are in America you'll dress like a Gentile and even shave. Then you won't look so ridiculous. Good clothes would make another man of you." At this she looked me over in a business-like sort of way.
"Pretty good figure, that," she concluded
In the evening of that day, when there was company in the house, she bore herself as though she did not know me. But the next morning, after the children had gone to school and her mother was away on her various missions, she made me put on the glittering coat and cap of her brother's Sunday uniform
"It's rather too small for you, but it's becoming all the same," she said, enthusiastically. "If mamma came in now she would not know you. But then there would be a nice how-do-you-do if she did." She gave a t.i.tter which rolled through my very heart. "Well, Mr. Gymnasist, [note] are you really in love with me?"
"Don't make fun of me, pray," I implored her. "It hurts, you know."
"Very well, I sha'n't. But you haven't answered my question."
"What question?"
"What a poor memory you have! And yet mother says you have 'a good head.' Try to remember."
"I do remember your question."
"Then what is your answer?"
"Yes."
"Yes!" she mocked me. "That's not the way gentlemen declare their love." "What else shall I say?"
"What else! Well, say: 'I am ready to die for you. You are the suns.h.i.+ne of my life.'" "'You are the suns.h.i.+ne of my life,'" I echoed, with a smile that was a combination of mirth and resentment
"'You are my happiness, my soul. The world would be dark without you.'"
"I am no baby to parrot somebody else's words."
"Then you don't love me."
"Yes, I do. But I hate to be made fun of. Don't! Please don't!" I said it with a beseeching, pa.s.sionate tremor in my voice, and all at once I clasped her violently to me and was about to kiss her. She put up her lips responsively, but suddenly she wrenched herself back
"Easy, easy, you saintly Talmudist," she said, good-naturedly.