He received his early education in a boarding school kept by a certain Swiss, a very energetic and severe pedagogue, after which he entered the university.His great ambition was to study law, but his father, who had a violent hatred for nihilists, made him go in for history and philology, or for "aesthetics" as Nejdanov put it with a bitter smile.His father used to see him about four times a year in all, but was, nevertheless, interested in his welfare, and when he died, left him a sum of six thousand roubles "in memory of Nastinka" his mother.Nejdanov received the interest on this money from his brothers the Princes G., which they were pleased to call an allowance.
Paklin had good reason to call him an aristocrat.Everything about him betokened his origin.His tiny ears, hands, feet, his small but fine features, delicate skin, wavy hair; his very voice was pleasant, although it was slightly guttural.He was highly strung, frightfully conceited, very susceptible, and even capricious.The false position he had been placed in from childhood had made him sensitive and irritable, but his natural generosity had kept him from becoming suspicious and mistrustful.This same false position was the cause of an utter inconsistency, which permeated his whole being.He was fastidiously accurate and horribly squeamish, tried to be cynical and coarse in his speech, but was an idealist by nature.He was passionate and pure-minded, bold and timid at the same time, and, like a repentant sinner, ashamed of his sins; he was ashamed alike of his timidity and his purity, and considered it his duty to scoff at all idealism.He had an affectionate heart, but held himself aloof from everybody, was easily exasperated, but never bore ill-will.He was furious with his father for having made him take up "aesthetics," openly interested himself in politics and social questions, professed the most extreme views (which meant more to him than mere words), but secretly took a delight in art, poetry, beauty in all its manifestations, and in his inspired moments wrote verses.It is true that he carefully hid the copy-book in which they were written, and none of his St.Petersburg friends, with the exception of Paklin, and he only by his peculiar intuitiveness, suspected its existence.Nothing hurt or offended Nejdanov more than the smallest allusion to his poetry, which he regarded as an unpardonable weakness in himself.His Swiss schoolmaster had taught him a great many things, and he was not afraid of hard work.He applied himself readily and zealously, but did not work consecutively.All his friends loved him.They were attracted by his natural sense of justice, his kindness, and his pure-mindedness, but Nejdanov was not born under a lucky star, and did not find life an easy matter.He was fully conscious of this fact and felt utterly lonely in spite of the untiring devotion of his friends.
He stood meditating at the window.Sad, oppressive thoughts rose up in his mind one after another about the prospective journey, the new and unexpected change that was coming into his life.He had no regrets at the thought of leaving St.Petersburg, as he would leave nothing behind that was especially dear to him, and he knew that he would be back in the autumn; but he was pervaded by the spirit of indecision, and an involuntary melancholy came over him.
