"I am alive," I said softly; and he threw himself upon me and kissed me.
The women stood round us in a semi-circle, gay and graceful as the
figures on a Gobelin tapestry.
"I love you," Vassili was exclaiming; "I love you just as you are. I
should hate you to be like everybody else." And in French he added,
looking at Madame Terlezkaja: "C'est très rigolo d'avoir une femme qui
n'est pas une femme."
I hid my face in the pillow, and wept; while the fair Terlezkaja, who
seemed to be the kindest of them all, bent over and consoled me.
"Pay no heed to him," she whispered. "I think he has been drinking a
little."
The door opened. A doctor, who had been sent for by the manager of the
hotel, entered with a resolute authoritative air. At the sight of him
the women disappeared like a flight of startled sparrows. Of course they
took Vassili with them.
To the good old doctor I confided the secret which Vassili had disclosed
to me and which was burning my heart.
"I want to have a child, a little child of my own!" I cried.
"Of course. Of course. So you shall," said the old doctor, with a
soothing smile. "There is no reason why you should not. You are a little
anemic, that is all."
He scribbled some prescriptions on his tablets.
"There. You will take all that. And you will go to Franzensbad. Within a
year you will be asking me to act as godpapa."
I took all he prescribed. But I did not go to Franzensbad. Vassili
wanted to go to Petersburg, so, of course, it was to Petersburg we went.
The very first evening we were there a number of his friends came to
call on him.
I remember, among the rest, a certain German Grand Duke, who, after
showing me an infinite amount of attention, drew Vassili aside and spoke
to him in undertones. I heard him mention the name of a famous
restaurant and the words: "A jolly supper-party to-night--some
ravishingly pretty tziganes...." There followed names of men and women
whom I did not know, and my husband laughed loudly.
Then the Grand Duke turned to me, and bowing deeply and ceremoniously
kissed my hand.
For an instant a frenzied impulse came over me to clutch that
well-groomed head and cry: "Wicked man! Why are you trying to lure my
husband from me?" But social conventions prevailed over this elementary
instinct, and when the Grand Duke raised his patrician head he found me
all amiability and smiles.
"She is indeed a bewitching creature!" I heard him mutter to Vassili.
"Looks just like one of Botticelli's diaphanous angels. Well then, at
eleven o'clock to-night, at the 'Hermitage.'"
Promptly at a quarter to eleven Vassili, sleek, trim and immaculate,
kissed my cheek gaily and went out.
I was alone. Alone in the great drawing-room, gorgeous with lights and
mirrors and gilded decorations. What was the good of being a bewitching
creature? What was the good of looking like one of Botticelli's
diaphanous angels?...
V
I rang for my maid, Katja, a good creature, ugly beyond words--and gladly
chosen by me on that account--and I told her that she was to undress me
for I was going to bed. While she was unfastening my dress I could hear
her muttering: "If it were me, I should not go to bed. If it were me, I
should put on my diamonds and my scarlet chiffon gown; I should take a
good bottle of vitriol in my pocket, and go and see what they were up
to."
"Katja, what are you mumbling? Do you mean to say that you--that you
think I ought to go--?"
"Of course," she cried, and her small squinting eyes shot forth, to the
right and left, fierce, divergent flashes of indignation. "Why should my
lady not go?"
Why should I not, indeed? Had I not the right--nay, the duty--to follow
Vassili? Had I not most solemnly promised so to do, in the little church
on the steppes a year ago? "_Follow him!_" With what tremulous joy had I
repeated after the priest those two words of tenacity and submission.
Had they no application to the Hermitage restaurant?
"Perhaps I might venture to go," I murmured, "but, Katja, do not other
women always have rouge and powder to put on when they go out? I have
nothing."
"Nothing but your eighteen years, madame," replied Katja.
She dressed me in the low-necked scarlet chiffon gown. She drew on my
flame-colored stockings, and my crimson shoes. On my head she placed the
diamond and ruby tiara, and about my shoulders she wound a red and gold
scarf which looked like a snake of fire.
"Alas, Katja!" I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror; "what would
my mother say if she were to see me like this? What do I look like?"
"You look like a lighted torch," said Katja.
I made her come with me in the troika, which sped swiftly and silently
through the dim snow-covered streets. I was shaking with fear at the
thought of Vassili. Katja was mumbling some prayers.
We drew up at the brilliant entrance of the restaurant.
"Oh, heavens, Katja! What will my husband say?"
"He will say that you are beautiful."
How did I ever venture across that threshold of dazzling light? How was
I able to ascend the red-carpeted stairs, preceded and followed by bows
and smiles and whispers? At the head of the wide staircase, in front of
a double-paneled door of white and gold, I paused with beating heart,
almost unable to breathe. I could hear the gipsy-music inside, and
women's voices and men's laughter and the tinkling of glasses.
An impassive head-waiter stood before me, calmly awaiting my orders.
"Tell"--I stammered--"tell--" as I thought of Vassili my courage failed
me--"tell his Highness the Grand Duke that I wish to see him."
Then I clung to the balustrade and waited. As the door opened and was
quickly closed again, there came forth a puff of heat and sound which
enwrapped me like a flame.
Almost immediately the door opened again and the Grand Duke appeared
upon the threshold, his countenance still elated by recent laughter. He
stared at me in astonishment, without recognition. "What--what can I do
for you?" he asked. Then his eyes widened in limitless astonishment.
"Upon my word! It is the Botticelli angel!"