The Argonauts | Page 9

have done excellently, my little one. Why not come oftener?
Your coming gives me great pleasure."
While speaking he looked all the time into her face, which was almost
that of a little child. She was so like her mother, that Malvina's youth
was simply renewed in Cara.
But Malvina, when he made her acquaintance, was considerably older;
the hair was just the same, very bright, and the eyes with dark brows
and pupils, the same shape of forehead. With a deepening of the
wrinkles between his brows he repeated:
"Why not come offener?"
"You are always so occupied, father," whispered she.
"What of that?" answered he hurriedly and abruptly.
"There is reproach in your voice. Are my occupations a crime? But
labor is service, it is the value of a man. My children should esteem my
labor more than others, since I toil for them as much, or even more,
than for myself."
He did not even think of speaking to that child with a voice so abrupt,
and with such a cloud on his forehead; but that cloud came to him from
some place within, from a distant feeling of something which he had
never looked at directly before. But he hardly knew the girl! When he
went away the last time she was a child; now she was almost full grown.
But she, in the twinkle of an eye, slipped from the low armchair to the
carpet, and kneeling with clasped hands began to speak passionately
and quickly:

"Your child is on her knees before you, father. When you were far
away she revered you, did you homage, longed for you; when you are
here she loves you greatly, above everything--"
Here she turned and removed from her dress the ball of ash-colored silk,
which was climbing to her shoulder.
"Go away, Puffie, go away! I have no time for thee now."
She pushed away the little dog, which sat on the carpet some steps
distant. Darvid felt a stream of pleasant warmth flooding into his breast
from the words of his daughter; but on principle he did not like
enthusiasm. In feelings and the expression of them he esteemed
moderation beyond everything. He raised with both hands the girl's
head, which was bending toward his knees.
"Be not excited, be not carried away. Repose is beautiful, it is
indispensable; without repose no calculation can be accurate, no work
complete. Your attachment makes me happy; but compose yourself,
rise from your knees, sit comfortably."
She put her hands together as in prayer.
"Let me stay as I am, father, at your knee. I imagined that on your
return I should be able to talk often and long with you; to ask about
everything, learn everything from you."
She coughed. Darvid took her in his arms, and, without raising her
from her knees, he drew her to his breast.
"See! your cough lasts! Do you cough much? Well, do not speak, do
not speak! let it pass. Does this cough pass quickly?"
It had passed. She stopped coughing, laughed. Her teeth glittered like
pearls between her red lips. A gleam of delight shot through Darvid's
eyes.
"It has gone already! I do not cough often, only rarely. I am perfectly

well. I was very sick when I got chilled at an open window while you
were away, father."
"I know, I know. Your enthusiastic little head thought of opening the
window on a winter night, so as to peep out and see how the garden
looked covered with snow in the moonlight."
"The trees, father, the trees!" began she, smiling and with vivacity; "not
the whole garden, just the trees, which, covered with snow and frost in
the moonlight, were like pillars of marble, alabaster, crystal, set with
diamonds, hung with laces; and whenever the slightest breeze moved, a
rain of pearls was scattered on the ground." "Great God!" exclaimed
Darvid, "marbles, alabasters, laces, diamonds, pearls! But there was
nothing of all this in fact! There was nothing but dry trunks, branches,
snow, and hoar-frost. That is exaltation! And you see how destructive it
may be! It brought you acute inflammation of the lungs, the traces of
which are not gone yet."
"They are!" answered she, in passing, and then she spoke seriously.
"My father, is it exaltation to worship something which is very
beautiful, or to love some one greatly with all our strength? If it is--then
I am given to exaltation, but without exaltation what could we live
for?"
An expression of wonder, meditation, thoughtfulness filled her eyes
and covered her finely cut face with a freshness like that of a wild rose.
With a movement of wonder she opened her arms, and repeated:
"What do we live for?"
Darvid laughed.
"I see that your head is turned