that she saw and heard, the dark mountains and the green woods, and the
glimmering of the stars and the moonlight, the noise of the horses'
hoofs, the rustling of the branches, the talking of the crowd, the
songs that the singers sang, the chirping of the crickets--all this was
the scenery and orchestra to that new, sweet song that the voice of
nature itself was singing to her.
She never thought of analysing her own feelings, she would not have
known how to. There was nothing to alarm herself about. Nothing had
happened. It was simply that acquaintance and intercourse with such a
clever, charming man gave her pleasure. Now there was someone with whom
she never, never felt dull! And Mimotchka said to Vava:
"I have never yet met such a clever, highly educated man. How well he
speaks French, English, and German! What intelligence, what a memory!
You can talk with him the whole day and hardly notice how the time
passes."
Vava didn't like him; but then what did a stupid girl like her
understand? And besides, mamma both liked and admired Valerian
Nicolaevitch, and often said to Mimotchka:
"Isn't Valerian Nicolaevitch coming to see us to-day? Ask him to come
and have a cup of tea."
And Valerian Nicolaevitch came and drank his tea and patiently listened
to mamma's stories, and was so chivalrously respectful to Mimotchka
that mamma could hardly refrain from embracing him. Mamma thought
him very handsome; she considered him even handsomer than the hussar
Anutin, who had made such a sensation at the Mineral Waters.
And the maid Katia, buttoning the boots on Mimotchka's little feet,
said, as she dexterously used her buttonhook, "What a nice gentleman
he is! how I do like him! The chambermaid, Dasha, who knows his man,
says, too, that he is such a nice gentleman. They have their own house
in Kieff. And they say he is such a good master." ...
"Oh yes," thought Mimotchka, "and then the chief thing is, he is so
clever!"
At night, when she went to bed, she tried to remember what he had
said to her. It was difficult, because he talked so much. But what
she remembered perfectly Well were his glances. How he had looked at
her when they had turned back to Griasnoushka, and then, when he sang
"Azra," and she asked him for the words of it. Oh, what eyes he has,
what eyes! It's a good thing that he has so much respect for her,
because, if he had not, she would be afraid for herself. Now, of
course, she is quite easy. She already knows him quite well enough to
feel assured that he would never allow himself ... She is a respectable
woman, she isn't like Nettie. She likes him as a friend.... If she
were free, perhaps she might like him in another way. Of course, if
she had known him, she would never have chosen anyone else.... But
she is not free, and only likes him as a friend. It's so nice, such a
friendship!...
And in the darkness Mimotchka opened her eyes and imagined how it would
be in the future. He liked her. By degrees he would let himself be
carried away by his feelings, and he would love her, love her so much
that he would follow her to Petersburg. And he would suffer from her
cruelty, poor, dear fellow I would endure everything, and at last would
explain himself. And she herself would suffer too, but she would say
to him: "And I love you too, have loved you a long while, but duty and
my obligations to others ... We must part." And so they would part,
poor things! How they would suffer! But still it was impossible to do
otherwise ... And Mimotchka sighed and turned over her pillow and put
the displaced sheet straight again. In the room, in spite of the door
being open on to the balcony, it was close and hot. And next door the
indefatigable widow was singing:
"And the night, and love, and the moon."
And the officer, who had taken the initiative, coughed and yawned
loudly.
"They won't let you get to sleep, they're intolerable! I'll shut that
door directly," said mamma, getting up, and, lowering her voice to a
whisper, so as not to wake the sleeping Vava, she added, "Just imagine
what I saw to-day; they kissed before me. So, _pour tout de bon._ ...
I went out on the balcony to shake a petticoat, and they were sitting
there kissing.... Schopenhauer lay on the table and they were kissing.
How disgusting!"
One day followed another without bringing any great changes.
Mimotchka's cure was drawing to a close, and mamma had already put
a mark in her almanac against the day fixed for their removal to
Kislovodsk.
Vava went on with her cure, walked, read, and talked, and argued till
she was hoarse with her new friends about the immortality of the soul,
about the woman's question, and about the thoughts and looks of Leo
Tolstoi.
Mimotchka was without a care, and flirted gaily with Valerian
Nicolaevitch. Her maid Katia flirted no less gaily with David
Georgevitch, and mamma played at picquet with the bilious dignitary
from Petersburg, or craned her neck watching other people's love
affairs. And both Vava and Mimotchka improved in health and looks every
day, so that mamma, joyfully noticing this, said to her partner:
"How fond people are of praising up everything foreign and running down
their own country. What things they told us about the Caucasus I And
yet how my young people have improved here! If you had only seen my
daughter in the spring.... She looked like a ghost! We were afraid she
would go into a consumption. Do you know, our waters are better than
those abroad."
The old gentleman did not even smile, but, dealing the cards with his
bony fingers, he contradicted mamma. He could not take upon himself to
give any opinion about ladies' illnesses--it was beyond the sphere of
his competence.... Perhaps the ladies had improved in health, perhaps
... But in regard to his fellow-men he would venture to say that here
it was only the healthy that improved. The doctors improved; yes, those
robbers certainly improved their circumstances.... A set of clowns who
couldn't distinguish one illness from another (the old gentleman had
already changed doctors four times, and acknowledged to mamma that
he couldn't digest a fifth). They went about courting and flirting
and riding on horseback like madmen, while the invalids had to put up
with every discomfort. What was the Government about? They took bribes
and commissions under the inspector's very nose. It was all robbery,
pillage, and disorder.... Wait a bit!... If the fifth doctor did not
kill him, he would write an article about them under the title of "Our
watering-places and our doctors." And they would recognise themselves,
they would recognise themselves.... Wait a bit!...
Mamma smiled good-humouredly and indulgently as she sorted her cards.
What was the use of arguing with a man who was a martyr to his liver
and stomach! How could he digest his doctor when he couldn't digest
his dinner?... And with her sweetest smile, and in a voice that mamma
knew how to make softer than almond oil, she said to him: "But do you
know what I would advise you to try?--a simple, but well-known remedy.
My son-in-law suffered for years from the most obstinate catarrh; and
he made a cure and took the waters. But do you know what did him good?
I'll tell you. Just a pinch on the end of a knife." ... And so on.
It was a hot, very hot day. Mimotchka, on coming from the baths, went
up on the mountain and sat down on a bench where she generally rested
after her bath. She wore a light cambric dress, and yet could hardly
breathe. The heat acted unpleasantly on her nerves; besides which, she
had something on her mind. The day before they had had a quarrel, and
now she felt ashamed and vexed with herself. He had been angry with
her yesterday, and had said that he would not go on to Kislovodsk, but
would go straight from Jeleznovodsk to the baroness's country place,
where he had been invited to stay. He was angry because Mimotchka would
not go out riding with him alone, and had said that it would look
"awkward!" Oh, what a fool she was, what a fool! Now she would gladly
give half her life to get back that word. How coarse and stupid it was!
She had showed that she was afraid. And what was there to be afraid of?
Hadn't she gone out riding alone with Variashski, and with the officer
of Spiridon Ivanovitch's division? didn't the baroness ride alone with
_him,_ with Valerian Nicolaevitch? And what of it? Was anyone shocked
by it? Not in the least. Awkward, awkward!... Oh, what a fool she was!
And what must he think of her now? Good heavens, what could she do to
please him? Now they would part coldly and inimically, and if he ever
after thought of her, it would be as a fool and an idiot. But no, it
was impossible, surely they would not part so?
Here he comes. He came up to her with a solemn, dignified expression
of countenance, and saluted her coldly. Then he talked of the weather,
and, having asked her permission to sit down beside her, seated himself
at the further end of the bench. Oh, what a chill seemed to come from
his elegant person! The top of Mount Elbrouz itself couldn't be colder.
And Mimotchka's hands and feet grew cold from the proximity of this
Elbrouz, and she felt ready to cry.
And yet the sun was hot, and the air burning and close. Nature seemed
exhausted with the heat. The cracked, parched earth prayed to the
heavens for rain; the splendidly grown trees stood morosely and lazily;
not a leaf stirred; on every rock from below and above the grasshoppers
chirped loudly.
The conversation flagged. Mimotchka was dreadfully ashamed. She felt
that she had lost her dignity as a general's wife, and tormented
herself trying to think what she could say.
Valerian Nicolaevitch silently enjoyed her agitation and trouble. It
was not only Mimotchka's appearance that pleased him, but her very
silentness and slowness of comprehension. What a good listener she
was! In Valerian Nicolaevitch's eyes this was a most precious quality,
because he liked to be the only one to talk. How tired he was of those
talkative women, with their pretensions to wit and intelligence,
who had read a little, would chatter about something, interrupt
without listening to what you were saying, cavil at your ideas and
catch up your words.... How different Mimotchka was! What a depth of
womanliness there was in her. She possessed what the poet calls "das
ewig Weibliche." ... She was not clever, certainly; but this very want
of cleverness was so pleasing in her. And why should she be clever?
What would it add to that pure, limpid look in her eyes? She had both
tact and grace. And although she was not clever, still she had a very
charming manner, not too free and yet not too shy. She was very, very
charming, and he had not been so taken with anyone for a long time.
He intended that the _dénouement_ should take place at Kislovodsk,
and yesterday evening, according to his programme, a preliminary
_tête-a-tête_ ride should have taken place in order to reassure
Mimotchka, and quiet her alarm, as he saw that, in spite of everything,
she was still on her guard.... And then suddenly she wouldn't go.
Just think of it! So that's the way, is it? Very well! Now she must be
punished, and made to ask him to come to Kislovodsk.
And so he sat there by her, gazing mournfully and coldly before him,
and cutting off the tops of the grass with his stick. The conversation
flagged ...?
The sister of the actress, Mdlle. Lenskaia, passed close by them. A
little old man, thawing under the influences of beauty, like a candle
under the rays of the Caucasian sun, was giving her his arm.
Mimotchka began talking about her. The Lenskis interested her
very much, because she had long been jealous of them on Valerian
Nicolaevitch's account, and she often asked him about them. He,
according to the humour he was in, either lauded them to the skies or
trampled them in the mud. This time Mdlle. Lenskaia turned up at a very
lucky moment for herself. Valerian Nicolaevitch began extolling her.
There was a real woman for you. She was worthy of bearing the high and
holy name of woman.... She lived herself and gave fresh life to those
around her.... Like the sun, she shed light and warmth on all those
who drew breath in her presence.... In her old age, when she drew near
her end, her conscience would not reproach her in any way. She would
have fulfilled her earthly task. She would have lived and loved....
She is no mere dressmaker's dummy, only made for trying on Parisian
toilettes, she is a living creature, with warm blood running in her
veins, with nerves vibrating in her, and life brimming over within her.
... She is not a puppet whose strings are pulled by public opinion....
And he poured forth a flood of stern and terrible philippics against
the women of society, those egotists, those hard-hearted, empty-headed
coquettes.... A nice education they have given them! Their mothers
impregnate them with their absurd morality with as much zeal as they
lay camphor in their carpets and shawls to keep away the moth. And they
attain their object. The moth does not touch their shawls, and passion
does not come near their well-brought-up daughters. But the atmosphere
that surrounds them is hard to breathe in. A man feels half suffocated.
He feels dull in their presence.... Yes, intolerably dull.... And is it
surprising that men flee from them to such women as Lenskaia?
Mimotchka was ready to cry. He was dull with her.... He had always felt
dull in her society.... She was only a dressmaker's dummy for trying
on dresses.... He would leave her and go to Lenskaia. For shame, for
shame!... And he continued thundering against the women of society,
interlarding his speech with verses and quotations. Love moves the
world. There are women unworthy of the happiness of love, unworthy of
high and holy moments. A woman incapable of love is like the foolish
virgin without oil.... And the Lord will say to her, "Depart, I know
you not." ... Watch.... Yes.... And old age will come, terrible,
merciless old age, with its grey hairs and wrinkles, and will seize
upon the heart with its cold hand, and the heart will quail with fear
and will thirst for life, but it will be late, too late.... And then
came a verse from Musset, and then one from Fett.
Valerian Nicolaevitch got more and more excited by his own eloquence.
Lowering his voice now to a whisper, and now raising it, he never
glanced at Mimotchka, never even turned towards her, but looked
straight before him as if addressing the gentlemen of the jury. And
it seemed to Mimotchka that the grasshoppers and black trunks of the
trees, which played the part of jury, said with one voice, "Guilty,
guilty, and not deserving extenuating circumstances."
Mimotchka knew she was guilty, but she really did not know how to set
things right, nor what to do to stop his anger and make him come to
Kislovodsk. She looked up at him. How handsome he Was! He took off his
hat, and she saw his white forehead, his wavy hair, and his brilliant
eyes.... She felt drawn towards him, and yet was afraid of vexing
him.... What can she say? good heavens, what can she say?... And she
hung her head lower and lower, and drew figures on the sand with her
parasol, while he went on saying those dreadful things.
Some ugly-looking Armenian women, in their muslin veils, went past and
gazed stupidly at poor Mimotchka with their round black eyes. The
passers-by smiled knowingly, and looked back at Mimotchka with a low
whistle....
And Valerian Nicolaevitch continued to thunder on like an inspired
prophet.
Women do not wish, and do not understand how to be intelligent. When
the sun shines on them, when the heavens smile on them, they pull down
the blinds.... Everything is only play, amusement, and a joke to them.
Not one them of knows how to raise herself to the height of a serious
feeling.... Flirts, who don't deserve that a man with a soul should
waste his time and lose his heart for them.... Well did Heine say ...
And what a bitter truth Byron wrote ... and Montesquieu, that great
jurist.... Mimotchka finally gave up trying to understand altogether.
Great men's names always bewildered her. Her lips trembled, she would
have liked to cry. And why does he scream at her here so, where so many
people are passing, and when she cannot say anything for fear she will
burst into tears?
Taking advantage of a momentary silence, Mimotchka got up and said:
"I think it is time for me to go home." He bowed coldly and politely.
"Aren't you going to see me home?"
"If you desire it."
And they came down the mountain. He played with his stick; Mimotchka
looked on the ground, and Rex walked lazily after them, wagging his
tail, and wondering they were not tired of such stupid talk.
"When are you going to Kislovodsk?" asked Valerian Nicolaevitch.
"To-morrow. And you?" and Mimotchka looked up at him with the
tenderest, most beseeching look.
"I am not going there at all."
There was a silence.
"Why are you in such a hurry to get home?" began Mimotchka again.
"I am not going home. I think I already told you that the baroness
had asked me to come and stay at their place.... The baron is an old
school friend of mine, and I shall be glad to see him again! And she is
such a charming woman too...."
And again they went on in silence. Mimotchka was struggling with
herself, not knowing whether to ask him to come to Kislovodsk or not.
If she asks him what reason shall she give for asking him to come, and
how will he take it? And if she doesn't ask him he won't come. No, she
will ask him, she will ask him. But still she was undecided, and said:
"I wish you would say some verses to me."
"Some verses? Certainly." He plucked a flower from the wayside and
began declaiming:
"Elle était belle, si la nuit
Qui dort dans la sombre chapelle," ...
and so on. When he had pronounced the last words with great effect,
they had reached the door of the house, where mamma was waiting dinner
for Mimotchka, but still she did not ask him to come, to Kislovodsk.
She remarked that it was yet early, and that very likely Vava
hadn't returned, so they might as well take another turn. Valerian
Nicolaevitch offered her his arm, and they went on a little further,
then they came back and passed the house on the other side of the way.
After a little while Mimotchka spoke, and when they stopped at the door
for the third time, and mamma had warmed up the soup on the kerosene
stove for the second time, everything that was necessary had been said.
He had promised to come to Kislovodsk for a month (that is, for the
whole time that she would be there), and she had promised to go out
riding with him the first evening they were there. Why did he so hold
to it? Well, anyhow it didn't matter? They had made it up.
Both Vava and Mimotchka had passed the time so agreeably at
Jeleznovodsk, and liked it so much, that when they came to Kislovodsk
they refused to admire anything, but stood out that Jeleznovodsk was
a great deal nicer. Vava said that Jeleznovodsk was dark, green, and
warm, while Kislovodsk was light, blue, and cold; and Mimotchka said
she had a crooked looking-glass, and that her bed was a great deal
harder than the one at Jeleznovodsk. Besides this, there were a good
many of their Petersburg acquaintances at Kislovodsk--Princess X---,
with her daughter and niece, General Baraeff, a friend of Spiridon
Ivanovitch's, and others besides.... Now they would get sick of them
and their gossip, and good-bye to the freedom of Jeleznovodsk!
However, Vava and Mimotchka were soon reassured on that score. The
princess seemed hardly to move from her place at the card-table, her
daughter had captured a little _aide-de-camp_ with the object of
leading him to the altar, her cousin was romantically and hopelessly
in love with a very pale and very interesting gentleman, whose wife
had run away from him, and who was making a cure at Kislovodsk,
while General Baraeff was incessantly after a pretty widow, with whom
he intended to go for a trip across the Caucasus. In fact, they all
seemed quite taken up with themselves and their own amusements. The
young princess and her cousin met Mimotchka and Vava very amiably and
with transports of friendliness, but it was clear that they had not
the slightest intention of profiting by their society, and were only
anxious not to be interfered with in their walks and excursions. And
both Mimotchka and Vava breathed freely again. The latter's entire
circle of friends had assembled at Kislovodsk, excepting the student,
who had gone with the Morozoffs to the Crimea. Vava welcomed them
joyfully, and the day after their arrival the whole party undertook the
ascent of the Krestoff mountain, the view from which so delighted Vava
that in two or three days' time she began to like Kislovodsk better
than Jeleznovodsk. And it really was better. Here there were silvery
birch-trees, murmuring mountain streams, and, above all, the wonderful
pure air, intoxicating and invigorating all who breathed it. And then,
here there was more variety, it was more Eastern, more Caucasian.
Mamma accepted with pleasure the princess's offer to occupy the fourth
place at her card-table, the former player having left for the Crimea.
Vint was one of mamma's passions, and was a great deal more interesting
than picquet with the bilious, irritable dignitary from Petersburg.
On the fourth day after their arrival Mimotchka put on a white dress
and a red hat and went with Vava to the park. They both still drank
koumiss, and went to the koumiss establishment to drink it. Passing
through the colonnade they met Valerian Nicolaevitch, but a transformed
Valerian Nicolaevitch! In a Tcherkesk costume, wearing a _beshmet,_[22]
a _papaha,_ and with daggers stuck in his belt. And what a splendid
_djigit_[23] he made! Tall, well built, and black browed! It was a
surprise for Mimotchka. Rex walked majestically after his master.
[22] _Beshmet,_ a Tartar tunic; _papaha,_ a high sheepskin cap.
[23] _Djigit,_ a Circassian rider who performs feats of horsemanship.
"Isn't it odd?" said Valerian Nicolaevitch to the ladies as he greeted
them; "I always bring this costume with me, but at the beginning of the
season at Jeleznovodsk I haven't the courage to put it on. But here I
already venture to wear the national dress, and all the more so because
I am almost always on horseback. The environs are so lovely! Have you
been anywhere yet?"
"Nowhere. With whom should I go?"
"How glad I am! The environs are so beautiful! And I so much wanted
to show you my favourite places myself. Then shall we go for a ride
to-day?"
"Let us go. Have you spoken about the horses?"
"Of course I have. Our horses are here, so we shall not have to look
about for fresh ones. Osman came on with them yesterday."
When they had drunk their koumiss, Mimotchka and Vava carried off
Valerian Nicolaevitch to speak to mamma, who was playing cards out
of doors. Mamma was delighted to see him, and introduced him to the
princess, who examined him through her eyeglass when he had moved from
their table, and also thought him handsomer than the hussar Anutin.
And Valerian Nicolaevitch and Mimotchka went on to the end of the
principal walk, losing Vava, who met some of her friends, on the way.
Mimotchka was radiant. It was as if there had never been any quarrel
between them; they were again on the old, pleasant, friendly footing.
Mimotchka herself had hardly expected she would be so glad of it.
Yes, he was more necessary to her than anyone. Life did not seem the
same thing to her with him as with others. And he was so bright, so
contented, so glad. Why was he glad? Because he was with her, of
course. Was not that the reason why she was so glad! So glad, so glad!
Ah, how happy she was!