Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky (82 page)

“Well, I admit I don’t know exactly
when
I made it! Perhaps I dre — dreamed it; I don’t know. Dear me, how very strange it all seems!”

Mosgliakoff trembled with joy: his new idea blazed forth in full developed glory.

“And
whom
did you propose to?” he asked impatiently.

“The daughter of the house, my boy; that beau — tiful girl. I — I forget what they call her. Bu — but, my dear boy, you see I — I can’t possibly marry. What am I to do?”

“Oh! of course, you are done for if you marry, that’s clear. But let me ask you one more question, uncle. Are you perfectly certain that you actually made her an offer of marriage?”

“Ye — yes, I’m sure of it; I — I —— .”

“And what if you dreamed the whole thing, just as you did that you were upset out of the carriage a second time?”

“Dear me! dear me! I — I really think I may have dreamed it; it’s very awkward. I don’t know how to show myself there, now. H — how could I find out, dear boy, for certain? Couldn’t I get to know by some outside way whether I really did make her an offer of ma — arriage or not? Why, just you think of my dreadful po — sition!”

“Do you know, uncle, I don’t think we need trouble ourselves to find out at all.”

“Why, wh — what then?”

“I am convinced that you were dreaming.”

“I — I think so myself, too, my dear fellow; es — pecially as I often have that sort of dream.”

“You see, uncle, you had a drop of wine for lunch, and then another drop or two for dinner, don’t you know; and so you may easily have — —”

“Ye — yes, quite so, quite so; it may easily have been that.”

“Besides, my dear uncle, however excited you may have been, you would never have taken such a senseless step in your waking moments. So far as I know you, uncle, you are a man of the highest and most deliberate judgment, and I am positive that — —”

“Ye — yes, ye — yes.”

“Why, only imagine — if your relations were to get to hear of such a thing. My goodness, uncle! they were cruel enough to you before. What do you suppose they would do
now
, eh?”

“Goodness gracious!” cried the frightened old prince. “Good — ness gracious! Wh — why, what would they do, do you think?”

“Do? Why, of course, they would all screech out that you had acted under the influence of insanity: in fact, that you were mad; that you had been swindled, and that you must be put under proper restraint. In fact, they’d pop you into some lunatic asylum.”

Mosgliakoff was well aware of the best method of frightening the poor old man out of his wits.

“Gracious heavens!” cried the latter, trembling like a leaflet with horror. “Gra — cious heavens! would they really do that?”

“Undoubtedly; and, knowing this, uncle, think for yourself. Could you possibly have done such a thing with your eyes open? As if you don’t understand what’s good for you just as well as your neighbours. I solemnly affirm that you saw all this in a dream!”

“Of course, of course; un — doubtedly in a dream, un — doubtedly so! What a clever fellow you are, my dear boy; you saw it at once. I am deeply grate — ful to you for putting me right. I was really quite under the im — pression I had actually done it.”

“And how glad I am that I met you, uncle, before you went in there! Just fancy, what a mess you might have made of it! You might have gone in thinking you were engaged to the girl, and behaved in the capacity of accepted lover. Think how fearfully dangerous —— .”

“Ye — yes, of course; most dangerous!”

“Why, remember, this girl is twenty-three years old. Nobody will marry her, and suddenly
you
, a rich and eminent man of rank and title, appear on the scene as her accepted swain. They would lay hold of the idea at once, and act up to it, and swear that you really were her future husband, and would marry you off, too. I daresay they would even count upon your speedy death, and make their calculations accordingly.”

“No!”

“Then again, uncle; a man of your dignity — —”

“Ye — yes, quite so, dig — nity!”

“And wisdom, — and amiability — —”

“Quite so; wis — dom — wisdom!”

“And then — a prince into the bargain! Good gracious, uncle, as if a man like yourself would make such a match as
that
, if you really did mean marrying! What would your relations say?”

“Why, my dear boy, they’d simply ea — eat me up, — I — I know their cunning and malice of old! My dear fellow — you won’t believe it — but I assure you I was afraid they were going to put me into a lun — atic asylum! a common ma — ad-house! Goodness me, think of that! Whatever should I have done with myself all day in a ma — ad-house?”

“Of course, of course! Well, I won’t leave your side, then, uncle, when you go downstairs. There are guests there too!”

“Guests? dear me! I — I — —”

“Don’t be afraid, uncle; I shall be by you!”

“I — I’m
so
much obliged to you, my dear boy; you have simply sa — ved me, you have indeed! But, do you know what, — I think I’d better go away altogether!”

“To-morrow, uncle! to-morrow morning at seven! and this evening you must be sure to say, in the presence of everybody, that you are starting away at seven next morning: you must say good-bye to-night!”

“Un — doubtedly, undoubtedly — I shall go; — but what if they talk to me as though I were engaged to the young wo — oman?”

“Don’t you fear, uncle! I shall be there! And mind, whatever they say or hint to you, you must declare that you dreamed the whole thing — as indeed you did, of course?”

“Ye — yes, quite so, un — doubtedly so! But, do you know my dear boy, it was a most be — witching dream, for all that! She is a wond — erfully lovely girl, my boy, — such a figure — bewitching — be — witching!”

“Well,
au revoir
, uncle! I’m going down, now, and you — —”

“How! How! you are not going to leave me alone?” cried the old man, greatly alarmed.

“No, no — oh no, uncle; but we must enter the room separately. First, I will go in, and then you come down; that will be better!”

“Very well, very well. Besides, I just want to note down one little i — dea — —”

“Capital, uncle! jot it down, and then come at once; don’t wait any longer; and to-morrow morning — —”

“And to-morrow morning away we go to the Her — mitage, straight to the Her — mitage! Charming — charm — ing! but, do you know, my boy, — she’s a fas — cinating girl — she is indeed! be — witching! Such a bust! and, really, if I were to marry, I — I — really — —”

“No, no, uncle! Heaven forbid!”

“Yes — yes — quite so — Heaven for — bid! — well,
au revoir
, my friend — I’ll come directly; by the bye — I meant to ask you, have you read Kazanoff’s Memoirs?”

“Yes, uncle. Why?”

“Yes, yes, quite so — I forget what I wanted to say — —”

“You’ll remember afterwards, uncle!
au revoir!
”

“
Au revoir
, my boy,
au revoir
— but, I say, it was a bewitching dream, a most be — witching dream!”

CHAPTER XII.

“Here we all are, all of us, come to spend the evening; Proskovia Ilinishna is coming too, and Luisa Karlovna and all!” cried Mrs. Antipova as she entered the salon, and looked hungrily round. She was a neat, pretty little woman! she was well-dressed, and knew it.

She looked greedily around, as I say, because she had an idea that the prince and Zina were hidden together somewhere about the room.

“Yes, and Katerina Petrovna, and Felisata Michaelovna are coming as well,” added Natalia Dimitrievna, a huge woman — whose figure had pleased the prince so much, and who looked more like a grenadier than anything else. This monster had been hand and glove with little Mrs. Antipova for the last three weeks; they were now quite inseparable. Natalia looked as though she could pick her little friend up and swallow her, bones and all, without thinking.

“I need not say with what
rapture
I welcome you both to my house, and for a whole evening, too!” piped Maria Alexandrovna, a little recovered from her first shock of amazement; “but do tell me, what miracle is it that has brought you all to-day, when I had quite despaired of ever seeing anyone of you in my house again?”

“Oh, oh! my
dear
Maria Alexandrovna!” said Natalia, very affectedly, but sweetly. The attributes of sweetness and affectation were a curious contrast to her personal appearance.

“You see, dearest Maria Alexandrovna,” chirped Mrs. Antipova, “we really must get on with the private theatricals question! It was only this very day that Peter Michaelovitch was saying how
bad
it was of us to have made no progress towards rehearsing, and so on; and that it was quite time we brought all our silly squabbles to an end! Well, four of us got together to-day, and then it struck us ‘Let’s all go to Maria Alexandrovna’s, and settle the matter once for all!’ So Natalia Dimitrievna let all the rest know that we were to meet here! We’ll soon settle it — I don’t think we should allow it to be said that we do nothing but ‘squabble’ over the preliminaries and get no farther, do
you
, dear Maria Alexandrovna?” She added, playfully, and kissing our heroine affectionately, “Goodness me, Zenaida, I declare you grow prettier every day!” And she betook herself to embracing Zina with equal affection.

“She has nothing else to do, but sit and grow more and more beautiful!” said Natalia with great sweetness, rubbing her huge hands together.

“Oh, the devil take them all! they know I care nothing about private theatricals — cursed magpies!” reflected Maria Alexandrovna, beside herself with rage.

“Especially, dear, as that delightful prince is with you just now. You know there is a private theatre in his house at Donchanof, and we have discovered that somewhere or other there, there are a lot of old theatrical properties and decorations and scenery. The prince was at my house to-day, but I was so surprised to see him that it all went clean out of my head and I forgot to ask him. Now we’ll broach the subject before him. You must support me and we’ll persuade him to send us all the old rubbish that can be found. We want to get the prince to come and see the play, too! He is sure to subscribe, isn’t he — as it is for the poor? Perhaps he would even take a part; he is such a dear, kind, willing old man. If only he did, it would make the fortune of our play!”

“Of course he will take a part! why, he can be made to play
any
part!” remarked Natalia significantly.

Mrs. Antipova had not exaggerated. Guests poured in every moment! Maria Alexandrovna hardly had time to receive one lot and make the usual exclamations of surprise and delight exacted by the laws of etiquette before another arrival would be announced.

I will not undertake to describe all these good people. I will only remark that every one of them, on arrival, looked about her cunningly; and that every face wore an expression of expectation and impatience.

Some of them came with the distinct intention of witnessing some scene of a delightfully scandalous nature, and were prepared to be very angry indeed if it should turn out that they were obliged to leave the house without the gratification of their hopes.

All behaved in the most amiable and affectionate manner towards their hostess; but Maria Alexandrovna firmly braced her nerves for battle.

Many apparently natural and innocent questions were asked about the prince; but in each one might be detected some hint or insinuation.

Tea came in, and people moved about and changed places: one group surrounded the piano; Zina was requested to play and sing, but answered drily that she was not quite well — and the paleness of her face bore out this assertion. Inquiries were made for Mosgliakoff; and these inquiries were addressed to Zina.

Maria Alexandrovna proved that she had the eyes and ears of ten ordinary mortals. She saw and heard all that was going on in every corner of the room; she heard and answered every question asked, and answered readily and cleverly. She was dreadfully anxious about Zina, however, and wondered why she did not leave the room, as she usually did on such occasions.

Poor Afanassy came in for his share of notice, too. It was the custom of these amiable people of Mordasoff to do their best to set Maria Alexandrovna and her husband “by the ears;” but to-day there were hopes of extracting valuable news and secrets out of the candid simplicity of the latter.

Maria Alexandrovna watched the state of siege into which the wretched Afanassy was thrown, with great anxiety; he was answering “H’m!” to all questions put to him, as instructed; but with so wretched an expression and so extremely artificial a mien that Maria Alexandrovna could barely restrain her wrath.

“Maria Alexandrovna! your husband won’t have a word to say to me!” remarked a sharp-faced little lady with a devil-may-care manner, as though she cared nothing for anybody, and was not to be abashed under any circumstances. “Do ask him to be a
little
more courteous towards ladies!”

“I really don’t know myself what can have happened to him to-day!” said Maria Alexandrovna, interrupting her conversation with Mrs. Antipova and Natalia, and laughing merrily; “he is so
dreadfully
uncommunicative! He has scarcely said a word even to
me
, all day! Why don’t you answer Felisata Michaelovna, Afanassy? What did you ask him?”

“But, but — why, mammy, you told me yourself” — began the bewildered and lost Afanassy. At this moment he was standing at the fireside with one hand placed inside his waistcoat, in an artistic position which he had chosen deliberately, on mature reflection, — and he was sipping his tea. The questions of the ladies had so confused him that he was blushing like a girl.

When he began the justification of himself recorded above, he suddenly met so dreadful a look in the eyes of his infuriated spouse that he nearly lost all consciousness, for terror!

Uncertain what to do, but anxious to recover himself and win back her favour once more, he said nothing, but took a gulp of tea to restore his scattered senses.