“In the autumn I was in Vienna. One day as I returned from a walk the
maid in the _pension_ told me that two ladies were waiting for me in my
room. Who but Mrs. Kerr and Eva! My first thought was: Does the mother
know? But from her ebullient flow I soon perceived that all was well.
“A long tale. She had come back with the ruby ring and for some time at
all events they lived quite comfortably on the proceeds. When they had
spent their last, ‘I went,’ she said, ‘and threw myself on the charity
of the police authorities, who were very kind and sent the three of us,
John, Eva, and myself, by goods train to Vienna. An English lady had
taken Zita back to England with her as a companion. Arrived in Vienna, I
went straight to the policeman on the platform and said: “Here we
are--destitute, without means. What do you propose to do with us?” It’s
always better to be downright: no good doing things by half. Once
destitute, throw all responsibility on the police. He looked very
worried and said: “Follow me,” and took us to the gendarme, who told us
to wait in the waiting-room. We waited three or four hours. Meanwhile
the first policeman came back, with a confused look and something
clenched in his fist. “I am not a rich man,” he said, opening his fist,
“but please accept that.” I was touched. 30.000 Kronen--almost two
shillings. The gendarme came to invite us into his chief’s office. A
nice grey-haired old gentleman. He had tears in his eyes as he looked at
the children, and was all milk and honey when I related to him of our
Schloss in Meran, now in the hands of the Italians, and said softly:
“_Sic transit gloria mundi!_”
“‘Anyhow, they took John off my hands. They put him in an orphanage. You
won’t believe how nice it is for him there. Never been so happy before!
Warm and cosy and plenty of boys of his own age to play with. And, do
you know, he heckles them all and fights them. We visited him the next
day, Eva and I. He was at his midday meal. Very good food. But he said,
“Mummy, what is the matter with this meat? It chews and chews and
doesn’t eat up.” Made them all laugh.
“‘“Me-Too” and I were conveyed to the workhouse. And, fancy, crossing
the Landstrasse-Hauptstrasse, we saw two of the Bulgarian students--the
thin one and one of the small ones. Eva shouted to them across the
street, but they couldn’t hear. The workhouse--not too bad, only no
privacy. A huge barrack-like room and lots of low, fallen women who use
dreadful language. I don’t like it on Eva’s account. Yesterday, when
“Me-Too” came in and left the door open, there was such a volley of
abuse from an old hag that I shut my ears so as not to hear. But Eva
said never a word, only looked at her like that. You could see the race
in her.
“‘We found out your address through police records--they are really so
well organised in this town--and, well, we’ve come to see you and to ask
if you won’t take us out to some dance or other to-night. We are so
tired of the regulation workhouse meals. I still have my smart yellow
satin gown in which Khan Balalykin admired me so much and thought I
looked like a Queen of the Steppes. And “Me-Too” still has her orange
crepe-de-Chine gown. She hid it in her purse--it folds ever so
small--when the bailiffs came into our Schloss in Meran and took
everything away from us.’
“I expressed my willingness, my pleasure. I asked her tactfully if I
could not lend her a little money. She took the note with charming
simplicity, ‘on condition,’ she said, ‘that you will let me pay it back
later--when things mend up in Russia.’
“At the cabaret, the ‘Nachtlokal,’ which she had selected as being the
most elegant according to her husband when in the affluent old days he
used to take her to Vienna for the season, she nevertheless complained
of the general inferiority and paucity of Vienna night life as compared
with that of Petrograd or Moscow, and that brought her back again to
Russia. ‘Ach, Russia!... We upper classes in Russia have been thrown in
the dirt and trampled on with the muddy feet of the coarse proletariat.’
It would have been heartless for me to remind her of the complete
independence of her personal misfortunes of the fate of Russia,
heartless and uncalled for, ‘But we will go back and find, I truly
expect and believe, our reward in riches and pleasures as yet undreamt
of, and then when you come and visit us there, Fyodor Ferdinandovich, we
shall have such a binge together as will outshine anything previously
known in that line.’
“‘Of course we will,’ I said tenderly, laying my hand on her own.
“‘_I believe in it!_’ she cried, ‘hotly and passionately! In the face of
all the calamities and disasters falling upon me, it shall not be said
that I have lost faith!’ She looked passionately at the orchestra.
“I filled her champagne glass. The band played doleful music. She
touched my arm. ‘But I do not regret these experiences. The kind hearts,
the interesting people one comes to meet. That policeman. The
grey-haired Colonel’s tears.’ Her eyes filled; and, indeed, she looked
at that moment like ‘the Madonna kissing the finger-tips of her Child.’
‘And, you know, even the workhouse women. That old hag who shouted so at
“Me-Too”--well, I’ve chummed up with her. Not a bad woman at heart. She
has had a hard life. A great beauty. An early seduction....’
“She sighed. ‘We have no luck. Imagine, my mother has managed to get out
of Russia at last and even smuggle through some jewelry, so Eva and I
both wrote to her to be quick and send us some money till the
authorities can find us situations. But she is in Monte Carlo, gambling
heavily, it seems, and writes back: “I can’t. I am bust.’”
“Eva, while her mother talked to me, flirted with me over her mother’s
head. ‘Come and talk to me,’ her look seemed to say.
“It was cruel after the dance-supper to take them back in a taxi to the
workhouse. But what could I do? I was, after paying for the supper,
stony broke myself. I could not have arranged to keep them at an hotel
indefinitely, and the authorities who were charged with finding work for
them would have discontinued their efforts on their leaving the
workhouse.
“A week later, she came in to me, jubilant. They had both got positions,
Eva as nurse to small children, Mrs. Kerr as housekeeper to a solitary
Austrian colonel. ‘An intellectual, original man. We read Dostoevski
together and I am keeping a journal which eventually I hope to develop
into a novel. We are both of us so happy, Ferdinand Fyodorovich--’
“‘Fomitch,’ I corrected. ‘My father was called Tom--Foma, in Russian.’
“‘ ...Ferdinand Fomitch, that we want you to take us out this evening,
make a night of it. The other night “Me-Too” and I went out to a night
club together, to celebrate our release from the workhouse and our good
fortune in getting situations so soon, and we struck up an acquaintance
with two Russian gentlemen: Ivan Andrèiech Zshikov, and the other:
Fyodor Yàkovlevich Suhomlinski. Suhomlinski fell in love at first sight
with “Me-Too”; and Zshikov with me. Zshikov has long almond eyes and
looks like that into mine all the time. Jokes, little flirtations. Very
delightful and charming. From there we went together to another cabaret.
In the street some other unknown men fell into step with us, and we all
went along together to an underground tavern--like the one in Innsbruck,
only larger and gayer. And all the men in love--either with Eva or me.
All Russians in exile, huddled together, helping one another to bear up.
Very charming and touching. The Hussar Kòlenka Shavèlenkov; Olèg
Aleksèiech Pevtsòff, disappointed in love and seeking a meaning in life;
and Captain of Lancers, Rotmister von Bologovski. Yes, calls himself
“von”--“von Bologovski.” All intellectual, original people. We revel
till three in the morning, and, do you know, when Eva had to go back to
her charges the mistress made quite a scene, in spite of “Me-Too”
explaining to her that she had been out with her mother; and nearly
dismissed her. It was her first day there, you see. But I slipped in
noiselessly with my latch key; my old Diogenes of a colonel was still
snoring, and there are no servants. He leaves early and does not come
back till six. So I give little parties when he is away. I try to make a
kind of Russian intellectual centre, to attract interesting, original
people, a sort of nucleus of the Russian Colony in Vienna. A large
dining room. I give them tea with lemon. They feel very pleased. All
interesting, well-read people of unconventional views. Zshikov came, and
Suhomlinski (to see Eva, who slips in with her elder charges when she
can), and also Kòlenka Shavèlenkov, and Olèg Aleksèiech Pevtsòff, the
disappointed, and the Lancer Rotmister von Bologovski; all came, drank
tea and smoked and argued, very sincerely and passionately, about
politics and art. I was very pleased on Eva’s account. Very beneficial
and instructive for her. I was sorry Zita wasn’t there. But she writes
this morning that she has left the English lady and has taken a post as
professional dancing partner at a dancing place in Hammersmith. She is
very pleased, for the lady she was companion to she says was a stuffy
old thing.’”