My father married again.  He was forty-eight when he took Avdotya Epifanova as his second wife.  She was a beautiful woman, whom Mamma used to call Dunitchka.  But I had suspected nothing until Papa actually announced to us that he was going to marry her.  The wedding was to take place in a fortnight.  I and Volodya returned to Moscow at the beginning of September, and on the following day I went to the university for my first lecture.

It was a magnificent, sunny day, and as I entered the auditorium I felt lost in the throng of gay youths flitting about through the doors and among the corridors.  Belonging to no particular group I felt isolated, and then even angry, and I remember in my heart that this first day was a dismal occasion for me.  I looked at the professor with an ironical feeling, for he commenced his lecture with an introduction which, to my mind, was without sense.  I decided at this first lecture that there was no need to write down everything that each professor said, and to this principle I adhered.

Though during my course I made many pleasant acquaintances, and so felt less isolated than at first, I indulged in little real comradeship.  But during the winter my attention was much engrossed with affairs of the heart, for I was in love three times.  Yet I was overwhelmed with shyness, fearing that my love should be discovered by its object.  With two of the young ladies, indeed, I had already been in love previously.  Of one of them I was now enamoured for the third time.  But I knew that Volodya also regarded her with passionate ecstasy.  I felt that it would certainly not be agreeable to him to learn that two brothers were in love with the same young woman.

Therefore I said nothing to him of my love.  But great satisfaction was afforded to my mind by the fact that our love was so pure, and that each would be ready, if needful, to make a sacrifice for the sake of the other.  But that self-abnegation did not, after all, extend to Volodya, for when he heard that a certain diplomat was to marry the girl, he was disposed to slap his face and to challenge him to a duel.  It happened that I had only spoken once to the young lady, and my love passed away in a week, as I made no effort to perpetuate it.

During that winter I was quite disenchanted with the social pleasures to which I had looked forward when I entered the university, in imitation of my brother Volodya.  He danced a great deal, and Papa also went with his young wife to balls.  But at the first one which I attended I was so shy that I declined the invitation of the Princess Kornakova to dance, declaring that I did not dance, though I had come to her evening party with the express intention of dancing a great deal.  I remained silently in one place the whole evening.

Avdotya’s passionate love for Papa was evident in every word, look, and action.  We were always hypocritically polite to her, called her chere maman, and noted that at first she was fond of calling herself stepmother, and that she plainly felt the unpleasantness of her position.  Her disposition was very amiable and she was in no way exacting.