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RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD 89
With the servants she was unprecedentedly gentle
and condescending. If I or my younger brother
asked her anything, she did not snarl at us as had
been her habit hitherto at times, but immediately
yielded to us, but with an air of such soul-crushing
resignation that my heart contracted, and I lost all
desire for cheerfulness.
Every one in the house was filled with reverence
for her pious frame of mind, and treated her tenderly
and cautiously, like an invalid or like a person who
has suffered a heavy affliction. Only the governess
shrugged her shoulders incredulously, and papa jested
at dinner over her gloomy aspect—"son airténébreux."
But my sister humbly endured all father’s scoffing,
and treated the governess with an exquisite courtesy
which enraged the latter more than roughness.
Seeing my sister in this state, I could take pleasure in
nothing. I was even ashamed of not being sufficiently
depressed, and in private I envied the strength and
depth of my elder sister’s feelings.
This mood did not last long, however. The fifth
of September was approaching: this was my mother’s
name-day, and that day was always celebrated in our
family with special solemnity. All the neighbors for
fifty versts round about came to our house; as many
as a hundred people assembled, and something special
was always got up by us for this day: fireworks,
tab-leaux-vivants, or private theatricals. The
preparations of course were begun long beforehand. My
mother was very fond of these private theatricals,
and played well and with much enthusiasm herself.
That year we had just built a regular stage, quite
in proper form, with side-scenes, curtain, and
decorations. In the neighborhood there were several
old, thoroughbred theater-goers who could always be
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