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“Oh, mamma, don't try to play the fox over me! Don't you see that I have consented to everything – to everything? What else do you require of me? Don't be alarmed if I call things by their proper names! For all you know it may be my only comfort!” And a bitter smile played over her lips.
“Very well, very well, dear! we may disagree as to ideas and yet be very fond of one another. But if you are afraid of the working of my plan, and dread that you will see any baseness or meanness about it, leave it all to me, dear, and I guarantee you that not a particle of dirt shall soil you! Your hands shall be clean! As if I would be the one to compromise you! Trust me entirely, and all shall go grandly and with dignity; all shall be done worthily; there shall be no scandal – even if there be a whisper afterwards, we shall all be out of the way, far off! We shall not stay here, of course! Let them howl if they like, we won't care. Besides, they are not worth bothering about, and I wonder at your being so frightened of these people, Zina. Don't be angry with me! how can you be so frightened, with your proud nature?”
“I'm not frightened; you don't understand me a bit!” said Zina, in a tone of annoyance.
“Very well, darling; don't be angry. I only talk like this because these people about here are always stirring up mud, if they can; while you – this is the first time in your life you have done a mean action. —Mean action! What an old fool I am! On the contrary, this is a most generous, noble act! I'll prove this to you once more, Zina. Firstly, then, it all depends upon the point of view you take up – ”
“Oh! bother your proofs, mother. I've surely had enough of them by now,” cried Zina angrily, and stamped her foot on the floor.
“Well, darling, I won't; it was stupid of me – I won't!”
There was another moment's silence. Maria Alexandrovna looked into her daughter's eyes as a little dog looks into the eyes of its mistress.
“I don't understand how you are going to set about it,” said Zina at last, in a tone of disgust. “I feel sure you will only plunge yourself into a pool of shame! I'm not thinking of these people about here. I despise their opinions; but it would be very ignominious for you.”
“Oh! if that's all, my dear child, don't bother your head about it: please, please don't! Let us be agreed about it, and then you need not fear for me. Dear me! if you but knew, though, what things I have done, and kept my skin whole! I tell you this is nothing in comparison with real difficulties which I have arranged successfully. Only let me try. But, first of all we must get the prince alone, and that as soon as possible. That's the first move: all the rest will depend upon the way we manage this. However, I can foresee the result. They'll all rise against us; but I'll manage them all right! I'm a little nervous about Mosgliakoff. He – ”
“Mosgliakoff!” said Zina, contemptuously.
“Yes, but don't you be afraid, Zina! I'll give you my word I'll work him so that he shall help us himself. You don't know me yet, my Zina. My child, when I heard about this old prince having arrived this morning, the idea, as it were, shone out all at once in my brain! Who would have thought of his really coming to us like this! It is a chance such as you might wait for a thousand years in vain. Zina, my angel! there's no shame in what you are doing. What is wrong is to marry a man whom you loathe. Your marriage with the prince will be no real marriage; it is simply a domestic contract. It is he, the old fool, who gains by it. It is he who is made unspeakably, immeasurably happy. Oh! Zina, how lovely you look to-day. If I were a man I would give you half a kingdom if you but raised your finger for it! Asses they all are! Who wouldn't kiss a hand like this?” and Maria Alexandrovna kissed her daughter's hand warmly. “Why, this is my own flesh and blood, Zina. What's to be done afterwards? You won't part with me, will you? You won't drive your old mother away when you are happy yourself? No, darling, for though we have quarrelled often enough, you have not such another friend as I am, Zina! You – ”
“Mamma, if you've made up your mind to it all, perhaps it is time you set about making some move in the matter. We are losing time,” said Zina, impatiently.
“Yes, it is, it is indeed time; and here am I gabbling on while they are all doing their best to seduce the prince away from us. I must be off at once. I shall find them, and bring the prince back by force, if need be. Good-bye, Zina, darling child. Don't be afraid, and don't look sad, dear; please don't! It will be all well, nay, gloriously well! Good-bye, good-bye!”
Maria Alexandrovna made the sign of the Cross over Zina, and dashed out of the room. She stopped one moment at her looking-glass to see that all was right, and then, in another minute, was seated in her carriage and careering through the Mordasoff streets. Maria Alexandrovna lived in good style, and her carriage was always in waiting at that hour in case of need.
“No, no, my dears! it's not for you to outwit me,” she thought, as she drove along. “Zina agrees; so half the work is done. Oh, Zina, Zina! so your imagination is susceptible to pretty little visions, is it? and I did treat her to a pretty little picture. She was really touched at last; and how lovely the child looked to-day! If I had her beauty I should turn half Europe topsy-turvy. But wait a bit, it's all right. Shakespeare will fly away to another world when you're a princess, my dear, and know a few people. What does she know? Mordasoff and the tutor! And what a princess she will make. I love to see her pride and pluck. She looks at you like any queen. And not to know her own good! However, she soon will. Wait a bit; let this old fool die, and then the boy, and I'll marry her to a reigning prince yet! The only thing I'm afraid of is – haven't I trusted her too much? Didn't I allow my feelings to run away with me too far? I am anxious about her. I am anxious, anxious!”
Thus Maria Alexandrovna reflected as she drove along. She was a busy woman, was Maria Alexandrovna.
Zina, left alone, continued her solitary walk up and down the room with folded hands and thoughtful brow. She had a good deal to think of! Over and over again she repeated, “It's time – it's time – oh, it's time!” What did this ejaculation mean? Once or twice tears glistened on her long silken eyelashes, and she did not attempt to wipe them away.
Her mother worried herself in vain, as far as Zina was concerned; for her daughter had quite made up her mind: – she was ready, come what might!
“Wait a bit!” said the widow to herself, as she picked her way out of her hiding-place, after having observed and listened to the interview between Zina and her mother. “And I was thinking of a wedding dress for myself; I positively thought the prince would really come my way! So much for my wedding dress – what a fool I was! Oho! Maria Alexandrovna – I'm a baggage, am I – and a beggar; – and I took a bribe of two hundred roubles from you, did I? And I didn't spend it on expenses connected with your precious daughter's letter, did I? and break open a desk for your sake with my own hands! Yes, madam; I'll teach you what sort of a baggage Nastasia Petrovna is; both of you shall know her a little better yet! Wait a bit!”
CHAPTER VII
Maria Alexandrovna's genius had conceived a great and daring project.
To marry her daughter to a rich man, a prince, and a cripple; to marry her secretly, to take advantage of the senile feebleness of her guest, to marry her daughter to this old man burglariously, as her enemies would call it, – was not only a daring, it was a downright audacious, project.
Of course, in case of success, it would be a profitable undertaking enough; but in the event of non-success, what an ignominious position for the authors of such a failure.
Maria Alexandrovna knew all this, but she did not despair. She had been through deeper mire than this, as she had rightly informed Zina.
Undoubtedly all this looked rather too like a robbery on the high road to be altogether pleasant; but Maria Alexandrovna did not dwell much on this thought. She had one very simple but very pointed notion on the subject: namely, this – “once married they can't be unmarried again.”
It was a simple, but very pleasant reflection, and the very thought of it gave Maria Alexandrovna a tingling sensation in all her limbs. She was in a great state of agitation, and sat in her carriage as if on pins and needles. She was anxious to begin the fray: her grand plan of operations was drawn up; but there were thousands of small details to be settled, and these must depend upon circumstances. She was not agitated by fear of failure – oh dear, no! all she minded was delay! she feared the delay and obstructions that might be put in her way by the Mordasoff ladies, whose pretty ways she knew so well! She was well aware that probably at this moment the whole town knew all about her present intentions, though she had not revealed them to a living soul. She had found out by painful experience that nothing, not the most secret event, could happen in her house in the morning but it was known at the farthest end of the town by the evening.
Of course, no anticipation, no presentiment, deterred or deceived Maria Alexandrovna: she might feel such sensations at times, but she despised them. Now, this is what had happened in the town this morning, and of which our heroine was as yet only partly informed. About mid-day, that is, just three hours after the prince's arrival at Mordasoff, extraordinary rumours began to circulate about the town.
Whence came they? Who spread them? None could say; but they spread like wild-fire. Everyone suddenly began to assure his neighbour that Maria Alexandrovna had engaged her daughter to the prince; that Mosgliakoff had notice to quit, and that all was settled and signed, and the penniless, twenty-three-year-old Zina was to be the princess.
Whence came this rumour? Could it be that Maria Alexandrovna was so thoroughly known that her friends could anticipate her thoughts and actions under any given circumstances?
The fact is, every inhabitant of a provincial town lives under a glass case; there is no possibility of his keeping anything whatever secret from his honourable co-dwellers in the place. They know everything; they know it, too, better than he does himself. Every provincial person should be a psychologist by nature; and that is why I have been surprised, often and often, to observe when I am among provincials that there is not a great number of psychologists – as one would expect, – but an infinite number of dreadful asses. However, this a digression.
The rumour thus spread, then, was a thunder-like and startling shock to the Mordasoff system. Such a marriage – a marriage with this prince – appeared to all to be a thing so very desirable, so brilliant, that the strange side of the affair had not seemed to strike anyone as yet!
One more circumstance must be noticed. Zina was even more detested in the place than her mother; why, I don't know. Perhaps her beauty was the prime cause. Perhaps, too, it was that Maria Alexandrovna was, as it were, one of themselves, a fruit of their own soil: if she was to go away she might even be missed; she kept the place alive more or less – it might be dull without her! But with Zina it was quite a different matter: she lived more in the clouds than in the town of Mordasoff. She was no company for these good people; she could not pair with them. Perhaps she bore herself towards them, unconsciously though, too haughtily.
And now this same Zina, this haughty girl, about whom there were certain scandalous stories afloat, this same Zina was to become a millionaire, a princess, and a woman of rank and eminence!
In a couple of years she might marry again, some duke, perhaps, or a general, maybe a Governor; their own Governor was a widower, and very fond of the ladies! Then she would be the first lady of their province! Why, the very thought of such a thing would be intolerable: in fact, this rumour of Zina's marriage with the prince aroused more irritation in Mordasoff than any other piece of gossip within the memory of man!
People told each other that it was a sin and a shame, that the prince was crazy, that the old man was being deceived, caught, robbed – anything you like; that the prince must be saved from the bloodthirsty talons he had floundered into; that the thing was simply robbery, immorality. And why were any others worse than Zina? Why should not somebody else marry the prince?
Maria Alexandrovna only guessed at all this at present – but that was quite enough. She knew that the whole town would rise up and use all and every means to defeat her ends. Why, they had tried to “confiscate” the prince already; she would have to retrieve him by force, and if she should succeed in luring or forcing him back now, she could not keep him tied to her apron-strings for ever. Again, what was to prevent this whole troop of Mordasoff gossips from coming en masse to her salon, under such a plausible plea, too, that she would not be able to turn them out. She knew well that if kicked out of the door these good people would get in at the window – a thing which had actually happened before now at Mordasoff.
In a word, there was not an hour, not a moment to be lost; and meanwhile things were not even begun. A brilliant idea now struck Maria Alexandrovna. We shall hear what this idea was in its proper place, meanwhile I will only state that my heroine dashed through the streets of Mordasoff, looking like a threatening storm-cloud as she swept along full of the stern and implacable resolve that the prince should come back if she had to drag him, and fight for him; and that all Mordasoff might fall in ruins but she should have her way!
Her first move was successful – it could not have been more so.
She chanced to meet the prince in the street, and carried him off to dinner with her.
If my reader wishes to know how this feat was accomplished with such a circle of enemies about and around her, and how she managed to make such a fool of Mrs. Antipova, then I must be allowed to point out that such a question is an insult to Maria Alexandrovna. As if she were not capable of outwitting any Antipova that ever breathed!
She simply “arrested” the prince at her rival's very door, as he alighted there with Mosgliakoff, in spite of the latter's terror of a scandal, and in spite of everything else; and she popped the old man into the carriage beside her. Of course the prince made very little resistance, and as usual, forgot all about the episode in a couple of minutes, and was as happy as possible.
At dinner he was hilarious to a degree; he made jokes and fun, and told stories which had no ends, or which he tacked on to ends belonging to other stories, without remarking the fact.
He had had three glasses of champagne at lunch at Natalie Dimitrievna's. He now took more wine, and his old head whirled with it. Maria Alexandrovna plied him well. The dinner was very good: the mistress of the house kept the company alive with most bewitching airs and manners, – at least so it should have been, but all excepting herself and the prince were terribly dull on this occasion. Zina sat silent and grave. Mosgliakoff was clearly off his feed: he was very thoughtful; and as this was unusual Maria Alexandrovna was considerably anxious about him. The widow looked cross and cunning; she continually made mysterious signs to Mosgliakoff on the sly; but the latter took no notice of them.
If the mistress herself had not been so amiable and bewitching, the dinner party might have been mistaken for a lunch at a funeral!
Meanwhile Maria Alexandrovna's condition of mind was in reality excited and agitated to a terrible degree. Zina alone terrified her by her tragic look and tearful eyes. And there was another difficulty – for that accursed Mosgliakoff would probably sit about and get in the way of business! One could not well set about it with him in the room!
So, Maria Alexandrovna rose from the table in some agitation.
But what was her amazement, her joyful surprise, when Mosgliakoff came up to her after dinner, of his own accord, and suddenly and most unexpectedly informed her that he must – to his infinite regret – leave the house on important business for a short while.
“Why, where are you going to?” she asked, with great show of regret.
“Well, you see,” began Mosgliakoff, rather disconcerted and uncomfortable, “I have to —may I come to you for advice?”
“What is it – what is it?”
“Why, you see, my godfather Borodueff – you know the man; I met him in the street to-day, and he is dreadfully angry with me, says I am grown so proud, that though I have been in Mordasoff three times I have never shown my nose inside his doors. He asked me to come in for a cup of tea at five – it's four now. He has no children, you know, – and he is worth a million of roubles —more, they say; and if I marry Zina – you see, – and he's seventy years old now!”
“Why, my good boy, of course, of course! – what are you thinking of? You must not neglect that sort of thing – go at once, of course! I thought you looked preoccupied at dinner. You ought to have gone this morning and shewn him that you cared for him, and so on. Oh, you boys, you boys!” cried Maria Alexandrovna with difficulty concealing her joy.
“Thanks, thanks, Maria Alexandrovna! you've made a man of me again! I declare I quite feared telling you – for I know you didn't think much of the connection. – He is a common sort of old fellow, I know! So good-bye – my respects to Zina, and apologies – I must be off, of course I shall be back soon!”
“Good-bye – take my blessing with you; say something polite to the old man for me; I have long changed my opinion of him; I have grown to like the real old Russian style of the man. Au revoir, mon ami, au revoir!”
“Well, it is a mercy that the devil has carried him off, out of the way!” she reflected, flushing with joy as Paul took his departure out of the room. But Paul had only just reached the hall and was putting on his fur coat when to him appeared – goodness knows whence – the widow, Nastasia Petrovna. She had been waiting for him.
“Where are you going to?” she asked, holding him by the arm.
“To my godfather Borodueff's – a rich old fellow; I want him to leave me money. Excuse me – I'm in rather a hurry!”
Mosgliakoff was in a capital humour!
“Oh! then say good-bye to your betrothed!” remarked the widow, cuttingly.
“And why ‘good-bye’?”
“Why; you think she's yours already, do you? and they are going to marry her to the prince! I heard them say so myself!”
“To the prince? Oh, come now, Nastasia Petrovna!”
“Oh, it's not a case of 'come now' at all! Would you like to see and hear it for yourself? Put down your coat, and come along here, – this way!”
“Excuse me, Nastasia Petrovna, but I don't understand what you are driving at!”
“Oh! you'll understand fast enough if you just bend down here and listen! The comedy is probably just beginning!”
“What comedy?”
“Hush! don't talk so loud! The comedy of humbugging you. This morning, when you went away with the prince, Maria Alexandrovna spent a whole hour talking Zina over into marrying the old man! She told her that nothing was easier than to lure the prince into marrying her; and all sorts of other things that were enough to make one sick! Zina agreed. You should have heard the pretty way in which you were spoken of! They think you simply a fool! Zina said plump out that she would never marry you! Listen now, listen!”
“Why – why – it would be most godless cunning,” Paul stammered, looking sheepishly into Nastasia's eyes.
“Well, just you listen – you'll hear that, and more besides!”
“But how am I to listen?”
“Here, bend down here. Do you see that keyhole!”
“Oh! but, Nastasia Petrovna, I can't eavesdrop, you know!”
“Oh, nonsense, nonsense! Put your pride in your pocket! You've come, and you must listen now!”
“Well, at all events – ”
“Oh! if you can't bear to be an eavesdropper, let it alone, and be made a fool of! One goes out of one's way solely out of pity for you, and you must needs make difficulties! What is it to me? I'm not doing this for myself! I shall leave the house before night, in any case!”
Paul, steeling his heart, bent to the keyhole.
His pulses were raging and throbbing. He did not realise what was going on, or what he was doing, or where he was.
CHAPTER VIII
“So you were very gay, prince, at Natalia Dimitrievna's?” asked Maria Alexandrovna, surveying the battlefield before her; she was anxious to begin the conversation as innocently as possible; but her heart beat loud with hope and agitation.
After dinner the Prince had been carried off to the salon, where he was first received in the morning. Maria Alexandrovna prided herself on this room, and always used it on state occasions.
The old man, after his six glasses of champagne, was not very steady on his legs; but he talked away all the more, for the same reason.
Surveying the field of battle before the fray, Maria Alexandrovna had observed with satisfaction that the voluptuous old man had already begun to regard Zina with great tenderness, and her maternal heart beat high with joy.
“Oh! ch – charming – very gay indeed!” replied the prince, “and, do you know, Nat – alia Dimitrievna is a wo – wonderful woman, a ch – charming woman!”
Howsoever busy with her own high thoughts and exalted ideas, Maria Alexandrovna's heart waxed wrathful to hear such a loud blast of praise on her rival's account.
“Oh! Prince,” she began, with flashing eyes, “if Natalia Dimitrievna is a charming woman in your eyes, then I really don't know what to think! After such a statement, dear Prince, you must not claim to know society here – no, no!”
“Really! You sur – pr – prise me!”
“I assure you – I assure you, mon cher Prince! Listen Zina, I must just tell the prince that absurd story about what Natalia Dimitrievna did when she was here last week. Dearest prince, I am not a scandal-monger, but I must, I really must tell you this, if only to make you laugh, and to show you a living picture, as it were, of what people are like in this place! Well, last week this Natalia Dimitrievna came to call upon me. Coffee was brought in, and I had to leave the room for a moment – I forget why – at all events, I went out. Now, I happened to have remarked how much sugar there was in the silver sugar basin; it was quite full. Well, I came back in a few minutes – looked at the sugar basin, and! – three lumps – three little wretched lumps at the very bottom of the basin, prince! – and she was all alone in the room, mind! Now that woman has a large house of her own, and lots of money! Of course this is merely a funny story – but you can judge from this what sort of people one has to deal with here!”
“N – no! you don't mean it!” said the prince, in real astonishment. “What a gr – eedy woman! Do you mean to say she ate it all up?”
“There, prince, and that's your ‘charming woman!’ What do you think of that nice little bit of lady-like conduct? I think I should have died of shame if I had ever allowed myself to do such a dirty thing as that!”
“Ye – yes, ye – yes! but, do you know, she is a real ‘belle femme’ all the same!”
“What! Natalia Dimitrievna? My dear prince; why, she is a mere tub of a woman! Oh! prince, prince! what have you said? I expected far better taste of you, prince!”
“Ye – yes, tub – tub, of course! but she's a n – nice figure, a nice figure! And the girl who danced – oh! a nice figure too, a very nice figure of a wo – woman!”
“What, Sonia? Why she's a mere child, prince? She's only thirteen years old.”
“Ye – yes, ye – yes, of course; but her figure de – velops very fast – charming, charming! And the other da – ancing girl, she's de – veloping too – nicely: she's dirty rather – she might have washed her hands, but very at – tractive, charming!” and the prince raised his glass again and hungrily inspected Zina. “Mais quelle charmante personne!– what a lovely girl!” he muttered, melting with satisfaction.
“Zina, play us something, or – better still, sing us a song! How she sings, prince! she's an artiste – a real artiste; oh if you only knew, dear prince,” continued Maria Alexandrovna, in a half whisper, as Zina rose to go to the piano with her stately but quiet gait and queenly composure, which evidently told upon the old man; “if you only knew what a daughter that is to me! how she can love; how tender, how affectionate she is to me! what taste she has, what a heart!”
“Ye – yes! ye – yes! taste. And do you know, I have only known one woman in all my life who could compare with her in love – liness. It was the late C – ountess Nainsky: she died thirty years ago, a w – onderful woman, and her beauty was quite sur – passing. She married her co – ook at last.”
“Her cook, prince?”
“Ye – yes, her cook, a Frenchman, abroad. She bought him a count's title a – broad; he was a good-looking fellow enough, with little moustaches – ”
“And how did they get on?”
“Oh, very well indeed; however, they p – arted very soon; they quarrelled about some sa – sauce. He robbed her – and bo – olted.”
