The beauty of Katerina Ivanovna had struck Alyosha even before, when his brother Dmitri had brought him to her for the first time three weeks earlier, to introduce them and get them acquainted, at Katerina Ivanovna’s special request. In that meeting, however, they had failed to strike up any conversation. Supposing Alyosha to be ill at ease, Katerina Ivanovna had spared him, as it were, and spent the whole time talking with Dmitri Fyodorovich. Alyosha had been silent, but had perceived a great deal very clearly. He was struck by the imperiousness, the proud ease, the self-confidence of the arrogant girl. And all that was unquestionable. Alyosha felt that he was not exaggerating. He found her large, black, burning eyes beautiful and especially becoming to her pale, even somewhat pale yellow, oval face. But in those eyes, as well as in the outline of her lovely lips, there was something that his brother certainly might fall terribly in love with, but that it was perhaps impossible to love for long. He almost said so outright to Dmitri, who pestered him after the visit, begging him not to conceal his impressions after seeing his fiancée.
“You will be happy with her, but perhaps ... not quietly happy.”
“That’s just it, brother, such women stay as they are, they don’t humble themselves before fate. So you think I won’t love her eternally?”
“No, maybe you will love her eternally, but maybe you won’t always be happy with her ...”
Alyosha had given his opinion then, blushing and annoyed with himself for having yielded to his brother’s entreaties and expressed such “foolish” thoughts. Because his opinion seemed terribly foolish to him as soon as he expressed it. And he felt ashamed at having expressed such an authoritative opinion about a woman. With all the more amazement did he feel now, at the first sight of Katerina Ivanovna as she ran out to him, that perhaps he had been very mistaken then. This time her face shone with unfeigned, openhearted kindness, with direct and ardent sincerity. Of all the former “pride and arrogance” that had so struck Alyosha at first, he now saw only a courageous, noble energy and a certain clear, strong faith in herself. Alyosha realized at the first sight of her, at the first words, that the whole tragedy of her situation with respect to the man she loved so much was no secret to her, that she, perhaps, knew everything already, decidedly everything. And yet, despite that, there was still so much light in her face, so much faith in the future, that Alyosha suddenly felt himself gravely and deliberately guilty before her. He was conquered and attracted at the same time. Besides which he noticed at her first words that she was in some great excitement, perhaps quite unusual for her—an excitement even almost resembling a sort of rapture.
“I’ve been waiting for you so, because now I can learn the whole truth only from you—and from no one else!”
“I’ve come ... ,” Alyosha muttered, confused, “I ... he sent me...”
“Ah, he sent you! Well, that is just what I anticipated. Now I know everything, everything!” Katerina Ivanovna exclaimed, her eyes suddenly flashing. “Wait, Alexei Fyodorovich, I shall tell you first of all why I was so anxious for you to come. You see, I know perhaps much more even than you do yourself; it’s not news that I need from you. This is what I need from you: I need to know your own personal, last impression of him, I need you to tell me directly, plainly, even coarsely (oh, as coarsely as you like! ) how you yourself see him now and how you see his position after your meeting with him today. It will be better, perhaps, than if I myself, whom he no longer wishes to see, were to discuss it with him personally. Do you understand what I want from you? Now, what is it that he sent you to tell me (I just knew he would send you!)—tell me simply, to the very last word...!”
“He says that he ... bows to you, and that he will never come again and ... that he bows to you.”
“Bows? Did he say that, did he put it that way?”
“Yes.”
“Just in passing, inadvertently, maybe he made a mistake, maybe he used the wrong word?”
“No, he asked me precisely to give you this word, ‘bows.’ He asked about three times, so that I wouldn’t forget to tell you.”
Katerina Ivanovna flushed.
“Help me now, Alexei Fyodorovich, it is now that I need your help. I’ll tell you my thought, and you simply tell me whether my thought is right or not. Listen, if he had asked you to bow to me just in passing, without insisting on the word, without underlining the word, that would be it ... that would be the end! But if he especially insisted on this word, if he especially told you not to forget to convey this bow to me, then it means he was agitated, beside himself perhaps. He had made a decision, and was frightened by his decision! He did not walk away from me with a firm step but leaped headlong off the mountain. That he stressed this word may only be a sign of bravado ...”
