The Idiot

Alexandrovitch.

  The Epanchins had only just heard of the prince’s illness and of hispresence in Pavlofsk, from Colia; and up to this time had been in astate of considerable bewilderment about him. The general brought theprince’s card down from town, and Mrs. Epanchin had felt convinced thathe himself would follow his card at once; she was much excited.

  In vain the girls assured her that a man who had not written for sixmonths would not be in such a dreadful hurry, and that probably he hadenough to do in town without needing to bustle down to Pavlofsk to seethem. Their mother was quite angry at the very idea of such a thing, andannounced her absolute conviction that he would turn up the next day atlatest.

  So next day the prince was expected all the morning, and at dinner, tea,and supper; and when he did not appear in the evening, Mrs. Epanchinquarrelled with everyone in the house, finding plenty of pretextswithout so much as mentioning the prince’s name.

  On the third day there was no talk of him at all, until Aglaya remarkedat dinner: “Mamma is cross because the prince hasn’t turned up,” towhich the general replied that it was not his fault.

  Mrs. Epanchin misunderstood the observation, and rising from her placeshe left the room in majestic wrath. In the evening, however, Colia camewith the story of the prince’s adventures, so far as he knew them. Mrs.Epanchin was triumphant; although Colia had to listen to a long lecture.“He idles about here the whole day long, one can’t get rid of him; andthen when he is wanted he does not come. He might have sent a line if hedid not wish to inconvenience himself.”

  At the words “one can’t get rid of him,” Colia was very angry, andnearly flew into a rage; but he resolved to be quiet for the time andshow his resentment later. If the words had been less offensive hemight have forgiven them, so pleased was he to see Lizabetha Prokofievnaworried and anxious about the prince’s illness.

  She would have insisted on sending to Petersburg at once, for a certaingreat medical celebrity; but her daughters dissuaded her, though theywere not willing to stay behind when she at once prepared to go andvisit the invalid. Aglaya, however, suggested that it was a littleunceremonious to go _en masse_ to see him.

  “Very well then, stay at home,” said Mrs. Epanchin, “and a good thingtoo, for Evgenie Pavlovitch is coming down and there will be no one athome to receive him.”

  Of course, after this, Aglaya went with the rest. In fact, she had neverhad the slightest intention of doing otherwise.

  Prince S., who was in the house, was requested to escort the ladies.He had been much interested when he first heard of the prince from theEpanchins. It appeared that they had known one another before, and hadspent some time together in a little provincial town three monthsago. Prince S. had greatly taken to him, and was delighted with theopportunity of meeting him again.

  The general had not come down from town as yet, nor had EvgeniePavlovitch arrived.

  It was not more than two or three hundred yards from the Epanchins’house to Lebedeff’s. The first disagreeable impression experienced byMrs. Epanchin was to find the prince surrounded by a whole assembly ofother guests--not to mention the fact that some of those present wereparticularly detestable in her eyes. The next annoying circumstance waswhen an apparently strong and healthy young fellow, well dressed,and smiling, came forward to meet her on the terrace, instead of thehalf-dying unfortunate whom she had expected to see.

  She was astonished and vexed, and her disappointment pleased Coliaimmensely. Of course he could have undeceived her before she started,but the mischievous boy had been careful not to do that, foreseeing theprobably laughable disgust that she would experience when she found herdear friend, the prince, in good health. Colia was indelicate enough tovoice the delight he felt at his success in managing to annoy LizabethaProkofievna, with whom, in spite of their really amicable relations, hewas constantly sparring.

  “Just wait a while, my boy!” said she; “don’t be too certain of yourtriumph.” And she sat down heavily, in the arm-chair pushed forward bythe prince.

  Lebedeff, Ptitsin, and General Ivolgin hastened to find chairs forthe young ladies. Varia greeted them joyfully, and they exchangedconfidences in ecstatic whispers.

  “I must admit, prince, I was a little put out to see you up and aboutlike this--I expected to find you in bed; but I give you my word, I wasonly annoyed for an instant, before I collected my thoughts properly. Iam always wiser on second thoughts, and I dare say you are the same.I assure you I am as glad to see you well as though you were my ownson,--yes, and more; and if you don’t believe me the more shame to you,and it’s not my fault. But that spiteful boy delights in playing allsorts of tricks. You are his patron, it seems. Well, I warn you thatone fine morning I shall deprive myself of the pleasure of his furtheracquaintance.”

  “What have I done wrong now?” cried Colia. “What was the good of tellingyou that the prince was nearly well again? You would not have believedme; it was so much more interesting to picture him on his death-bed.”

  “How long do you remain here, prince?” asked Madame Epanchin.

  “All the summer, and perhaps longer.”

  “You are alone, aren’t you,--not married?”

  “No, I’m not married!” replied the prince, smiling at the ingenuousnessof this little feeler.

  “Oh, you needn’t laugh! These things do happen, you know! Now then--whydidn’t you come to us? We have a wing quite empty. But just as you like,of course. Do you lease it from _him?_--this fellow, I mean,” she added,nodding towards Lebedeff. “And why does he always wriggle so?”

  At that moment Vera, carrying the baby in her arms as usual, came out ofthe house, on to the terrace. Lebedeff kept fidgeting among the chairs,and did not seem to know what to do with himself, though he had nointention of going away. He no sooner caught sight of his daughter, thanhe rushed in her direction, waving his arms to keep her away; he evenforgot himself so far as to stamp his foot.

  “Is he mad?” asked Madame Epanchin suddenly.

  “No, he...”

  “Perhaps he is drunk? Your company is rather peculiar,” she added, witha glance at the other guests....

  “But what a pretty girl! Who is she?”

  “That is Lebedeff’s daughter--Vera Lukianovna.”

  “Indeed? She looks very sweet. I should like to make her acquaintance.”

  The words were hardly out of her mouth, when Lebedeff dragged Veraforward, in order to present her.

  “Orphans, poor orphans!” he began in a pathetic voice.

  “The child she carries is an orphan, too. She is Vera’s sister, mydaughter Luboff. The day this babe was born, six weeks ago, my wifedied, by the will of God Almighty.... Yes... Vera takes her mother’splace, though she is but her sister... nothing more... nothing more...”

  “And you! You are nothing more than a fool, if you’ll excuse me! Well!well! you know that yourself, I expect,” said the lady indignantly.

  Lebedeff bowed low. “It is the truth,” he replied, with extreme respect.

  “Oh, Mr. Lebedeff, I am told you lecture on the Apocalypse. Is it true?” asked Aglaya.

  “Yes, that is so... for the last fifteen years.”

  “I have heard of you, and I think read of you in the newspapers.”

  “No, that was another commentator, whom the papers named. He is dead,however, and I have taken his place,” said the other, much delighted.

  “We are neighbours, so will you be so kind as to come over one day andexplain the Apocalypse to me?” said Aglaya. “I do not understand it inthe least.”

  “Allow me to warn you,” interposed General Ivolgin, “that he is thegreatest charlatan on earth.” He had taken the chair next to the girl,and was impatient to begin talking. “No doubt there are pleasures andamusements peculiar to the country,” he continued, “and to listen to apretended student holding forth on the book of the Revelations may beas good as any other. It may even be original. But... you seem tobe looking at me with some surprise--may I introduce myself--GeneralIvolg
in--I carried you in my arms as a baby--”

  “Delighted, I’m sure,” said Aglaya; “I am acquainted with VarvaraArdalionovna and Nina Alexandrovna.” She was trying hard to restrainherself from laughing.

  Mrs. Epanchin flushed up; some accumulation of spleen in her suddenlyneeded an outlet. She could not bear this General Ivolgin whom she hadonce known, long ago--in society.

  “You are deviating from the truth, sir, as usual!” she remarked, boilingover with indignation; “you never carried her in your life!”

  “You have forgotten, mother,” said Aglaya, suddenly. “He really didcarry me about,--in Tver, you know. I was six years old, I remember.He made me a bow and arrow, and I shot a pigeon. Don’t you remembershooting a pigeon, you and I, one day?”

  “Yes, and he made me a cardboard helmet, and a little wooden sword--Iremember!” said Adelaida.

  “Yes, I remember too!” said Alexandra. “You quarrelled about the woundedpigeon, and Adelaida was put in the corner, and stood there with herhelmet and sword and all.”

  The poor general had merely made the remark about having carried Aglayain his arms because he