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XIY
THE FLAME BURNS
A COUPLE of days after Sonya’s departure I
received a few lines from her. Already the spark
of happiness, which had flamed up so brightly and
inspired most extravagant hopes, had died out. I have
not kept her letter, but I remember the main contents:
I see [she wrote] that he and I will never understand each
other. I shall return to my work at Stockholm. In future my
only consolation will be work.
That was all. During the remainder of that winter,
and all next spring, I had not a line from her, except
a few heartfelt words of congratulation on my
marriage in May.
She suffered, and avoided showing me her sorrows,
not wishing to disturb my happiness. She could never
make up her mind to write on indifferent matters.
Therefore she kept silence. But this reticence, after
our recent intimacy, wounded me deeply. Afterward
I well understood that she could not have acted
otherwise.
In the April of that year (1890) Sönya went to Russia.
She had rather expected to be elected a member of
the Academy of Sciences at St. Petersburg, the most
advantageous position which she could have acquired.
It would have yielded her a large salary, and no duties
beyond a two-months’ yearly residence in St.
Petersburg. To be a member of the Academy is the great-
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