foryears, and who had no feeling whatever for each other, unless it weredislike; and yet they met tonight as though they had seen each other butyesterday in some friendly and intimate assembly of kindred spirits.
It was not a large party, however. Besides Princess Bielokonski and theold dignitary (who was really a great man) and his wife, there was anold military general--a count or baron with a German name, a man reputedto possess great knowledge and administrative ability. He was oneof those Olympian administrators who know everything except Russia,pronounce a word of extraordinary wisdom, admired by all, about once infive years, and, after being an eternity in the service, generally diefull of honour and riches, though they have never done anything great,and have even been hostile to all greatness. This general was IvanFedorovitch’s immediate superior in the service; and it pleased thelatter to look upon him also as a patron. On the other hand, the greatman did not at all consider himself Epanchin’s patron. He was alwaysvery cool to him, while taking advantage of his ready services, andwould instantly have put another in his place if there had been theslightest reason for the change.
Another guest was an elderly, important-looking gentleman, a distantrelative of Lizabetha Prokofievna’s. This gentleman was rich, held agood position, was a great talker, and had the reputation of being “oneof the dissatisfied,” though not belonging to the dangerous sectionsof that class. He had the manners, to some extent, of the Englisharistocracy, and some of their tastes (especially in the matter ofunder-done roast beef, harness, men-servants, etc.). He was a greatfriend of the dignitary’s, and Lizabetha Prokofievna, for some reason orother, had got hold of the idea that this worthy intended at no distantdate to offer the advantages of his hand and heart to Alexandra.
Besides the elevated and more solid individuals enumerated, there werepresent a few younger though not less elegant guests. Besides Prince S.and Evgenie Pavlovitch, we must name the eminent and fascinating PrinceN.--once the vanquisher of female hearts all over Europe. This gentlemanwas no longer in the first bloom of youth--he was forty-five, but stillvery handsome. He was well off, and lived, as a rule, abroad, and wasnoted as a good teller of stories. Then came a few guests belonging toa lower stratum of society--people who, like the Epanchins themselves,moved only occasionally in this exalted sphere. The Epanchins liked todraft among their more elevated guests a few picked representatives ofthis lower stratum, and Lizabetha Prokofievna received much praise forthis practice, which proved, her friends said, that she was a woman oftact. The Epanchins prided themselves upon the good opinion people heldof them.
One of the representatives of the middle-class present today was acolonel of engineers, a very serious man and a great friend of PrinceS., who had introduced him to the Epanchins. He was extremely silent insociety, and displayed on the forefinger of his right hand a large ring,probably bestowed upon him for services of some sort. There was alsoa poet, German by name, but a Russian poet; very presentable, and evenhandsome--the sort of man one could bring into society with impunity.This gentleman belonged to a German family of decidedly bourgeoisorigin, but he had a knack of acquiring the patronage of “big-wigs,” andof retaining their favour. He had translated some great German poem intoRussian verse, and claimed to have been a friend of a famous Russianpoet, since dead. (It is strange how great a multitude of literarypeople there are who have had the advantages of friendship with somegreat man of their own profession who is, unfortunately, dead.) Thedignitary’s wife had introduced this worthy to the Epanchins. Thislady posed as the patroness of literary people, and she certainlyhad succeeded in obtaining pensions for a few of them, thanks to herinfluence with those in authority on such matters. She was a lady ofweight in her own way. Her age was about forty-five, so that she was avery young wife for such an elderly husband as the dignitary. She hadbeen a beauty in her day and still loved, as many ladies of forty-fivedo love, to dress a little too smartly. Her intellect was nothing toboast of, and her literary knowledge very doubtful. Literary patronagewas, however, with her as much a mania as was the love of gorgeousclothes. Many books and translations were dedicated to her by herproteges, and a few of these talented individuals had published some oftheir own letters to her, upon very weighty subjects.
This, then, was the society that the prince accepted at once as truecoin, as pure gold without alloy.
It so happened, however, that on this particular evening all these goodpeople were in excellent humour and highly pleased with themselves.Every one of them felt that they were doing the Epanchins the greatestpossible honour by their presence. But alas! the prince never suspectedany such subtleties! For instance, he had no suspicion of the fact thatthe Epanchins, having in their mind so important a step as the marriageof their daughter, would never think of presuming to take it withouthaving previously “shown off” the proposed husband to the dignitary--therecognized patron of the family. The latter, too, though he wouldprobably have received news of a great disaster to the Epanchin familywith perfect composure, would nevertheless have considered it a personaloffence if they had dared to marry their daughter without his advice, orwe might almost say, his leave.
The amiable and undoubtedly witty Prince N. could not but feel thathe was as a sun, risen for one night only to shine upon the Epanchindrawing-room. He accounted them immeasurably his inferiors, and it wasthis feeling which caused his special amiability and delightful ease andgrace towards them. He knew very well that he must tell some story thisevening for the edification of the company, and led up to it with theinspiration of anticipatory triumph.
The prince, when he heard the story afterwards, felt that he had neveryet come across so wonderful a humorist, or such remarkable brilliancyas was shown by this man; and yet if he had only known it, this storywas the oldest, stalest, and most worn-out yarn, and every drawing-roomin town was sick to death of it. It was only in the innocent Epanchinhousehold that it passed for a new and brilliant tale--as a sudden andstriking reminiscence of a splendid and talented man.
Even the German poet, though as amiable as possible, felt that he wasdoing the house the greatest of honours by his presence in it.
But the prince only looked at the bright side; he did not turn the coatand see the shabby lining.
Aglaya had not foreseen that particular calamity. She herself lookedwonderfully beautiful this evening. All three sisters were dressed verytastefully, and their hair was done with special care.
Aglaya sat next to Evgenie Pavlovitch, and laughed and talked to himwith an unusual display of friendliness. Evgenie himself behaved rathermore sedately than usual, probably out of respect to the dignitary.Evgenie had been known in society for a long while. He had appeared atthe Epanchins’ today with crape on his hat, and Princess Bielokonski hadcommended this action on his part. Not every society man would have worncrape for “such an uncle.” Lizabetha Prokofievna had liked it also, butwas too preoccupied to take much notice. The prince remarked that Aglayalooked attentively at him two or three times, and seemed to be satisfiedwith his behaviour.
Little by little he became very happy indeed. All his late anxieties andapprehensions (after his conversation with Lebedeff) now appeared likeso many bad dreams--impossible, and even laughable.
He did not speak much, only answering such questions as were put to him,and gradually settled down into unbroken silence, listening to what wenton, and steeped in perfect satisfaction and contentment.
Little by little a sort of inspiration, however, began to stir withinhim, ready to spring into life at the right moment. When he did beginto speak, it was accidentally, in response to a question, and apparentlywithout any special object.
VII.
While he feasted his eyes upon Aglaya, as she talked merrily withEvgenie and Prince N., suddenly the old anglomaniac, who was talking tothe dignitary in another corner of the room, apparently telling him astory about something or other--suddenly this gentleman pronouncedthe name of “Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff” aloud. The prince quicklyturned towards him, and listened.
/> The conversation had been on the subject of land, and the presentdisorders, and there must have been something amusing said, for the oldman had begun to laugh at his companion’s heated expressions.
The latter was describing in eloquent words how, in consequence ofrecent legislation, he was obliged to sell a beautiful estate in the N.province, not because he wanted ready money--in fact, he was obligedto sell it at half its value. “To avoid another lawsuit about thePavlicheff estate, I ran away,” he said. “With a few more inheritancesof that kind I should soon be ruined!”
At this point General Epanchin, noticing how interested Muishkin hadbecome in the conversation, said to him, in a low tone:
“That gentleman--Ivan Petrovitch--is a relation of your late friend, Mr.Pavlicheff. You wanted to find some of his relations, did you not?”
The general, who had been talking to his chief up to this moment, hadobserved the prince’s solitude and silence, and was anxious to draw himinto the conversation, and so introduce him