Aglaya coming out alone.
“Gavrila Ardalionovitch begged me to give you this,” he said, handingher the note.
Aglaya stopped, took the letter, and gazed strangely into the prince’seyes. There was no confusion in her face; a little surprise, perhaps,but that was all. By her look she seemed merely to challenge the princeto an explanation as to how he and Gania happened to be connected inthis matter. But her expression was perfectly cool and quiet, and evencondescending.
So they stood for a moment or two, confronting one another. At length afaint smile passed over her face, and she passed by him without a word.
Mrs. Epanchin examined the portrait of Nastasia Philipovna for somelittle while, holding it critically at arm’s length.
“Yes, she is pretty,” she said at last, “even very pretty. I have seenher twice, but only at a distance. So you admire this kind of beauty, doyou?” she asked the prince, suddenly.
“Yes, I do--this kind.”
“Do you mean especially this kind?”
“Yes, especially this kind.”
“Why?”
“There is much suffering in this face,” murmured the prince, more asthough talking to himself than answering the question.
“I think you are wandering a little, prince,” Mrs. Epanchin decided,after a lengthened survey of his face; and she tossed the portrait on tothe table, haughtily.
Alexandra took it, and Adelaida came up, and both the girls examined thephotograph. Just then Aglaya entered the room.
“What a power!” cried Adelaida suddenly, as she earnestly examined theportrait over her sister’s shoulder.
“Whom? What power?” asked her mother, crossly.
“Such beauty is real power,” said Adelaida. “With such beauty as thatone might overthrow the world.” She returned to her easel thoughtfully.
Aglaya merely glanced at the portrait--frowned, and put out herunderlip; then went and sat down on the sofa with folded hands. Mrs.Epanchin rang the bell.
“Ask Gavrila Ardalionovitch to step this way,” said she to the man whoanswered.
“Mamma!” cried Alexandra, significantly.
“I shall just say two words to him, that’s all,” said her mother,silencing all objection by her manner; she was evidently seriously putout. “You see, prince, it is all secrets with us, just now--all secrets.It seems to be the etiquette of the house, for some reason or other.Stupid nonsense, and in a matter which ought to be approached with allcandour and open-heartedness. There is a marriage being talked of, and Idon’t like this marriage--”
“Mamma, what are you saying?” said Alexandra again, hurriedly.
“Well, what, my dear girl? As if you can possibly like it yourself? Theheart is the great thing, and the rest is all rubbish--though one musthave sense as well. Perhaps sense is really the great thing. Don’t smilelike that, Aglaya. I don’t contradict myself. A fool with a heart and nobrains is just as unhappy as a fool with brains and no heart. I am oneand you are the other, and therefore both of us suffer, both of us areunhappy.”
“Why are you so unhappy, mother?” asked Adelaida, who alone of all thecompany seemed to have preserved her good temper and spirits up to now.
“In the first place, because of my carefully brought-up daughters,” saidMrs. Epanchin, cuttingly; “and as that is the best reason I can give youwe need not bother about any other at present. Enough of words, now!We shall see how both of you (I don’t count Aglaya) will manage yourbusiness, and whether you, most revered Alexandra Ivanovna, will behappy with your fine mate.”
“Ah!” she added, as Gania suddenly entered the room, “here’s anothermarrying subject. How do you do?” she continued, in response to Gania’sbow; but she did not invite him to sit down. “You are going to bemarried?”
“Married? how--what marriage?” murmured Gania, overwhelmed withconfusion.
“Are you about to take a wife? I ask,--if you prefer that expression.”
“No, no I--I--no!” said Gania, bringing out his lie with a tell-taleblush of shame. He glanced keenly at Aglaya, who was sitting some wayoff, and dropped his eyes immediately.
Aglaya gazed coldly, intently, and composedly at him, without taking hereyes off his face, and watched his confusion.
“No? You say no, do you?” continued the pitiless Mrs. General. “Verywell, I shall remember that you told me this Wednesday morning, inanswer to my question, that you are not going to be married. What day isit, Wednesday, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I think so!” said Adelaida.
“You never know the day of the week; what’s the day of the month?”
“Twenty-seventh!” said Gania.
“Twenty-seventh; very well. Good-bye now; you have a good deal to do,I’m sure, and I must dress and go out. Take your portrait. Give myrespects to your unfortunate mother, Nina Alexandrovna. _Au revoir_, dearprince, come in and see us often, do; and I shall tell old PrincessBielokonski about you. I shall go and see her on purpose. And listen,my dear boy, I feel sure that God has sent you to Petersburg fromSwitzerland on purpose for me. Maybe you will have other things to do,besides, but you are sent chiefly for my sake, I feel sure of it. Godsent you to me! Au revoir! Alexandra, come with me, my dear.”
Mrs. Epanchin left the room.
Gania--confused, annoyed, furious--took up his portrait, and turned tothe prince with a nasty smile on his face.
“Prince,” he said, “I am just going home. If you have not changed yourmind as to living with us, perhaps you would like to come with me. Youdon’t know the address, I believe?”
“Wait a minute, prince,” said Aglaya, suddenly rising from her seat, “dowrite something in my album first, will you? Father says you are a mosttalented caligraphist; I’ll bring you my book in a minute.” She left theroom.
“Well, _au revoir_, prince,” said Adelaida, “I must be going too.” Shepressed the prince’s hand warmly, and gave him a friendly smile as sheleft the room. She did not so much as look at Gania.
“This is your doing, prince,” said Gania, turning on the latter so soonas the others were all out of the room. “This is your doing, sir! _You_have been telling them that I am going to be married!” He said this ina hurried whisper, his eyes flashing with rage and his face ablaze. “Youshameless tattler!”
“I assure you, you are under a delusion,” said the prince, calmly andpolitely. “I did not even know that you were to be married.”
“You heard me talking about it, the general and me. You heard me saythat everything was to be settled today at Nastasia Philipovna’s, andyou went and blurted it out here. You lie if you deny it. Who elsecould have told them? Devil take it, sir, who could have told them exceptyourself? Didn’t the old woman as good as hint as much to me?”
“If she hinted to you who told her you must know best, of course; but Inever said a word about it.”
“Did you give my note? Is there an answer?” interrupted Gania,impatiently.
But at this moment Aglaya came back, and the prince had no time toreply.
“There, prince,” said she, “there’s my album. Now choose a page andwrite me something, will you? There’s a pen, a new one; do you mind asteel one? I have heard that you caligraphists don’t like steel pens.”
Conversing with the prince, Aglaya did not even seem to notice thatGania was in the room. But while the prince was getting his pen ready,finding a page, and making his preparations to write, Gania came up tothe fireplace where Aglaya was standing, to the right of the prince, andin trembling, broken accents said, almost in her ear:
“One word, just one word from you, and I’m saved.”
The prince turned sharply round and looked at both of them. Gania’sface was full of real despair; he seemed to have said the words almostunconsciously and on the impulse of the moment.
Aglaya gazed at him for some seconds with precisely the same composureand calm astonishment as she had shown a little while before, when theprince handed her the note, and it appeared that this calm surprise andseemingl
y absolute incomprehension of what was said to her, were moreterribly overwhelming to Gania than even the most plainly expresseddisdain would have been.
“What shall I write?” asked the prince.
“I’ll dictate to you,” said Aglaya, coming up to the table. “Now then,are you ready? Write, ‘I never condescend to bargain!’ Now put your nameand the date. Let me see it.”
The prince handed her the album.
“Capital! How beautifully you have written it! Thanks so much. _Aurevoir_, prince. Wait a minute,” she added, “I want to give yousomething for a keepsake. Come with me this way, will you?”
The prince followed her. Arrived at the dining-room, she stopped.
“Read this,” she said, handing him Gania’s note.
The prince took it from her hand, but gazed at her in bewilderment.
“Oh! I _know_ you haven’t read it, and that you could never be thatman’s accomplice. Read it, I wish you to read it.”
The letter had evidently been written in a hurry:
“My fate is to be decided today” (it ran), “you know how. This day Imust give my word irrevocably. I have no right to ask your help, and Idare not allow myself to indulge in any