August 13th.
The Count's conduct is atrocious, and yet I understand it. His
pride, his whole character, despotic; the horror of having been
deceived. . . . And besides, is he really Stephane's father? . . .
These two children born after six years of marriage, and a few
years later to discover. . . . Suspicions often have less
foundation. And then this fatal resemblance which keeps the image
of the faithless one constantly before his eyes! The more decided
the resemblance, the greater must be his hatred. Even his smile,
that strange smile which belongs to him alone, Stephane according
to Father Alexis, must have inherited from his mother. "I HAVE
BURIED THE SMILE!" Frightful cry which I can hear still! Finally,
I believe that in the barbarous hatred of this father there is more
of instinct than of system. It lives from day to day. I am sure
that Count Kostia has never asked himself: "What shall I do with my
son when he is twenty?"
August 14th.
Ivan, of whom I asked news of Stephane, said to me:
"Do not be uneasy about him any more. He has become much better
within the past month, and he grows more gentle from day to day;
this is the result of seeing death so near."