irresistible desire to remind you ofmy existence, especially you. How many times I have needed all three ofyou; but only you have dwelt always in my mind’s eye. I need you--I needyou very much. I will not write about myself. I have nothing to tellyou. But I long for you to be happy. _Are_ you happy? That is all I wishedto say to you--Your brother,
“PR. L. MUISHKIN.”
On reading this short and disconnected note, Aglaya suddenly blushed allover, and became very thoughtful.
It would be difficult to describe her thoughts at that moment. One ofthem was, “Shall I show it to anyone?” But she was ashamed to show it.So she ended by hiding it in her table drawer, with a very strange,ironical smile upon her lips.
Next day, she took it out, and put it into a large book, as she usuallydid with papers which she wanted to be able to find easily. She laughedwhen, about a week later, she happened to notice the name of the book,and saw that it was Don Quixote, but it would be difficult to sayexactly why.
I cannot say, either, whether she showed the letter to her sisters.
But when she had read it herself once more, it suddenly struck herthat surely that conceited boy, Colia, had not been the one chosencorrespondent of the prince all this while. She determined to ask him,and did so with an exaggerated show of carelessness. He informed herhaughtily that though he had given the prince his permanent address whenthe latter left town, and had offered his services, the prince had neverbefore given him any commission to perform, nor had he written until thefollowing lines arrived, with Aglaya’s letter. Aglaya took the note, andread it.
“DEAR COLIA,--Please be so kind as to give the enclosed sealed letter toAglaya Ivanovna. Keep well--Ever your loving,
“PR. L. MUISHKIN.”
“It seems absurd to trust a little pepper-box like you,” said Aglaya,as she returned the note, and walked past the “pepper-box” with anexpression of great contempt.
This was more than Colia could bear. He had actually borrowed Gania’snew green tie for the occasion, without saying why he wanted it, inorder to impress her. He was very deeply mortified.
II.
It was the beginning of June, and for a whole week the weather inSt. Petersburg had been magnificent. The Epanchins had a luxuriouscountry-house at Pavlofsk, [One of the fashionable summer resorts nearSt. Petersburg.] and to this spot Mrs. Epanchin determined to proceedwithout further delay. In a couple of days all was ready, and the familyhad left town. A day or two after this removal to Pavlofsk, PrinceMuishkin arrived in St. Petersburg by the morning train from Moscow. Noone met him; but, as he stepped out of the carriage, he suddenly becameaware of two strangely glowing eyes fixed upon him from among the crowdthat met the train. On endeavouring to re-discover the eyes, and seeto whom they belonged, he could find nothing to guide him. It must havebeen a hallucination. But the disagreeable impression remained, andwithout this, the prince was sad and thoughtful already, and seemed tobe much preoccupied.
His cab took him to a small and bad hotel near the Litaynaya. Herehe engaged a couple of rooms, dark and badly furnished. He washed andchanged, and hurriedly left the hotel again, as though anxious towaste no time. Anyone who now saw him for the first time since heleft Petersburg would judge that he had improved vastly so far as hisexterior was concerned. His clothes certainly were very different; theywere more fashionable, perhaps even too much so, and anyone inclined tomockery might have found something to smile at in his appearance. Butwhat is there that people will not smile at?
The prince took a cab and drove to a street near the Nativity, where hesoon discovered the house he was seeking. It was a small wooden villa,and he was struck by its attractive and clean appearance; it stood ina pleasant little garden, full of flowers. The windows looking on thestreet were open, and the sound of a voice, reading aloud or makinga speech, came through them. It rose at times to a shout, and wasinterrupted occasionally by bursts of laughter.
Prince Muishkin entered the court-yard, and ascended the steps. A cookwith her sleeves turned up to the elbows opened the door. The visitorasked if Mr. Lebedeff were at home.
“He is in there,” said she, pointing to the salon.
The room had a blue wall-paper, and was well, almost pretentiously,furnished, with its round table, its divan, and its bronze clock undera glass shade. There was a narrow pier-glass against the wall, and achandelier adorned with lustres hung by a bronze chain from the ceiling.
When the prince entered, Lebedeff was standing in the middle of theroom, his back to the door. He was in his shirt-sleeves, on account ofthe extreme heat, and he seemed to have just reached the peroration ofhis speech, and was impressively beating his breast.
His audience consisted of a youth of about fifteen years of age with aclever face, who had a book in his hand, though he was not reading; ayoung lady of twenty, in deep mourning, stood near him with an infant inher arms; another girl of thirteen, also in black, was laughing loudly,her mouth wide open; and on the sofa lay a handsome young man,with black hair and eyes, and a suspicion of beard and whiskers. Hefrequently interrupted the speaker and argued with him, to the greatdelight of the others.
“Lukian Timofeyovitch! Lukian Timofeyovitch! Here’s someone to see you!Look here!... a gentleman to speak to you!... Well, it’s not my fault!” and the cook turned and went away red with anger.
Lebedeff started, and at sight of the prince stood like a statue for amoment. Then he moved up to him with an ingratiating smile, but stoppedshort again.
“Prince! ex-ex-excellency!” he stammered. Then suddenly he ran towardsthe girl with the infant, a movement so unexpected by her that shestaggered and fell back, but next moment he was threatening the otherchild, who was standing, still laughing, in the doorway. She screamed,and ran towards the kitchen. Lebedeff stamped his foot angrily;then, seeing the prince regarding him with amazement, he murmuredapologetically--“Pardon to show respect!... he-he!”
“You are quite wrong...” began the prince.
“At once... at once... in one moment!”
He rushed like a whirlwind from the room, and Muishkin lookedinquiringly at the others.
They were all laughing, and the guest joined in the chorus.
“He has gone to get his coat,” said the boy.
“How annoying!” exclaimed the prince. “I thought... Tell me, is he...”
“You think he is drunk?” cried the young man on the sofa. “Not in theleast. He’s only had three or four small glasses, perhaps five; but whatis that? The usual thing!”
As the prince opened his mouth to answer, he was interrupted by thegirl, whose sweet face wore an expression of absolute frankness.
“He never drinks much in the morning; if you have come to talk businesswith him, do it now. It is the best time. He sometimes comes back drunkin the evening; but just now he passes the greater part of the eveningin tears, and reads passages of Holy Scripture aloud, because our motherdied five weeks ago.”
“No doubt he ran off because he did not know what to say to you,” said the youth on the divan. “I bet he is trying to cheat you, and isthinking how best to do it.”
Just then Lebedeff returned, having put on his coat.
“Five weeks!” said he, wiping his eyes. “Only five weeks! Poor orphans!”
“But why wear a coat in holes,” asked the girl, “when your new one ishanging behind the door? Did you not see it?”
“Hold your tongue, dragon-fly!” he scolded. “What a plague you are!” Hestamped his foot irritably, but she only laughed, and answered:
“Are you trying to frighten me? I am not Tania, you know, and I don’tintend to run away. Look, you are waking Lubotchka, and she will haveconvulsions again. Why do you shout like that?”
“Well, well! I won’t again,” said the master of the house, his anxietygetting the better of his temper. He went up to his daughter, and lookedat the child in her arms, anxiously making the sign of the cross overher three times. “God bless her! God bless her!” he cried with emotion.“This little creature
is my daughter Luboff,” addressing the prince. “Mywife, Helena, died--at her birth; and this is my big daughter Vera, inmourning, as you see; and this, this, oh, this,” pointing to the young manon the divan...
“Well, go on! never mind me!” mocked the other. “Don’t be afraid!”
“Excellency! Have you read that account of the murder of the Zemarinfamily, in the newspaper?” cried Lebedeff, all of a sudden.
“Yes,” said Muishkin, with some surprise.
“Well, that is the murderer! It is he--in fact--”
“What do you mean?” asked the visitor.
“I am speaking allegorically, of course; but he will be the murderer ofa Zemarin family in the future. He is getting ready. ...”
They all laughed, and the thought crossed the prince’s mind that perhapsLebedeff was really trifling in this way because he foresaw inconvenientquestions, and wanted to gain time.
“He is a traitor! a conspirator!” shouted Lebedeff, who seemed to havelost all control over himself. “A monster! a slanderer! Ought I to treathim as a nephew, the son of my sister Anisia?”
“Oh! do be quiet! You must