love! He could not understand and appreciate her fully, but her
appearance alone and her lively cheerful temper were enough to bewitch a
man; and bewitched he accordingly was. He saw her first in church, and
the first sight was enough for his susceptible heart. Alexyei
Stepanitch--henceforth we shall give him both his names--soon discovered
that the fair lady received all officials who visited at her father's
house; and, being himself an official in the law-court, he began to
appear regularly in her drawing-room, to pay his respects on high days
and holidays. He saw her every time, and his passion grew steadily. His
calls were so regular and so prolonged--though he hardly opened his
mouth--that they soon attracted general notice; and it is probable that
the first person to notice them was the young hostess herself. Rapturous
looks, flaming cheeks, helpless confusion--these are the symbols by
which love has always spoken. A frank passion has been an object of
ridicule from time immemorial, and all Ufa laughed at Alexyei
Stepanitch. He was humble and shy and as bashful as a country girl; and
his only reply to all jests and allusions to the subject was to blush
the colour of a peony. But Sofya Nikolayevna, so cold and even snubbing
in her manner to her fashionable admirers, was surprisingly indulgent to
this speechless worshipper. Perhaps she was sorry for this young man who
had no armour against all the ridicule he suffered on her behalf;
perhaps she understood that his was no idle or passing fancy and that
his whole life was at stake; anyhow, the severe young beauty not only
bowed graciously and looked kindly at him, but tried also to start
conversation; and his timid, incoherent replies and agitated voice did
not seem to her ridiculous or repulsive. I should say, however, that
Sofya Nikolayevna, though she stood on her dignity with self-assertive
people, was always kind and condescending to humility and modesty.
Things went on thus for some time. Suddenly, a bold thought flashed on
the brain of Alexyei Stepanitch--the thought of getting Sofya
Nikolayevna for his wife. At first he was frightened by his own
ambition, so bold and so unlikely to be realised. How could he raise his
eyes to Sofya Nikolayevna, the chief personage in Ufa, and, in his
opinion, the cleverest and most beautiful woman in the world? He
abandoned his intention entirely for a time. But by degrees the lady's
constant goodwill and attention, her friendly glances which seemed to
him to hold out some encouragement, and, above all, the passion which
mastered his whole being, recalled the abandoned ideal; and it soon grew
familiar and became part of his life. There was an old lady called Mme.
Alakayeff, then living at Ufa to look after a lawsuit, who used to visit
at the Zubins' house; she was distantly related to Alexyei Stepanitch
and had always taken a great interest in him. He now began to visit her
oftener, and did his best to please her; and at last he confessed his
love for a certain person, and his intention to seek her hand. His love
was the talk of the town and therefore no news to Mme. Alakayeff; but
his intention of marrying her was a surprise. "She won't have you," said
the old lady, shaking her head; "she's too clever, too proud, too highly
educated. Plenty of people have been in love with her, but not one has
ever dared to ask the question. You're a handsome lad, certainly,
well-born and fairly well-off, and you will be rich in course of
time--everybody knows that; but then you're a plain country fellow, no
scholar or man of the world, and you're terribly bashful in society."
Alexyei Stepanitch was aware of all this himself; but love had entirely
confused his brain, and a voice whispered in his ear day and night that
Sofya Nikolayevna would accept him. Though the young man's hopes seemed
to her unfounded, Mme. Alakayeff consented to go to Sofya Nikolayevna's
house, where, without making any allusion to his wishes, she would turn
the conversation on to him and take note of all that was said. She
started at once, and Alexyei Stepanitch remained in the house till she
should come back. She was absent for some time, and the lover became so
distressed and despondent that he began to cry and then fell asleep,
tired out, with his head leaning against the window. When the old lady
came back, she wakened him and said with a cheerful air: "Well, Alexyei
Stepanitch, there is really something in it! When I began to speak about
you, and was rather hard upon you, Sofya Nikolayevna took up the cudgels
in earnest on your behalf, and ended by saying that she was sure you
were very kind and modest and gentle, and respectful to your parents;
and she said that God sent his blessing on such people, and they were
much better than your pert and forward talkers." Alexyei Stepanitch was
so enraptured by this report that he hardly knew where he was. Mme.
Alakayeff gave him time to recover, and then said with decision: "If
your mind is quite made up about this, I will tell you what you had
better do. Go home at once, tell the whole story to your parents, and
ask for their consent and blessing, before kind people put their oar in.
If they give you one and the other, I don't refuse to work in your
cause. Only don't be in a hurry: begin by getting on the soft side of
your sisters; your mother won't go against your wishes. Of course, your
father's consent matters most of all. I know him: he is masterful to a
degree, but he has good sense; have a talk to him when he is in a good
humour." Alexyei Stepanitch did not see the need of all this caution and
manoeuvring: he said that his parents would be delighted, and asked what
possible flaw could be found in Sofya Nikolayevna. "Two terrible flaws,"
said the shrewd old lady: "she has only twopence to her fortune, and her
grandfather was a simple sergeant in a Cossack regiment." The
significance of her words was entirely lost upon Alexyei Stepanitch, but
the old lady was not wrong in her presentiment, and her warning came too
late.
Within a week Alexyei Stepanitch got leave of absence. He called on
Sofya Nikolayevna to say "good-bye," and she treated him kindly, wishing
him a pleasant journey, and hoping he might find his parents in good
health and happy to see him. Her kind words encouraged him to hope, and
off he went home. The old people were glad to see him, but they were
puzzled by the time of his visit and looked at him inquiringly. His
sisters--who lived near Bagrovo and came there in hot haste on a summons
from their mother--kissed their brother and made much of him, but kept
on smiling for some reason. The youngest sister, Tatyana, was his
favourite, and he revealed his passion to her ears first. Being a rather
romantic girl and fonder of her brother than the older sisters were, she
listened to him with sympathy, and at last went so far as to confide to
him a great secret: the family knew already of his love-affair and were
opposed to it. It had happened in this way.
Two months before, Ivan Karatayeff had travelled to Ufa on business and
brought back this piece of news to his wife. Alexandra Karatayeff--I
have spoken already of her character--boiled over with rage and
indignation. She took the lead in the family, and could twist them all,
except, of course, her father, round her little finger. She set one of
her brother's servants to spy on his master, and made him report to her
every detail concerning his love-affair and his life at Ufa; and she
found a female friend in the town, who first rummaged and ferreted
about, and then, with the help of a discarded attorney's clerk, sent her
a long letter composed of town talk and servants' gossip. As her chief
authorities were the servants of the late Mme. Zubin, it is easy to
guess the kind of portrait which these enemies drew of Sofya
Nikolayevna.
It is a well-known fact that in the good old days of the Empress
Catherine--perhaps it is the case still--there was little love lost
between a man's wife and his sisters; and the case was worse when the
sisters had only one brother, because his wife must become the sole and
undisputed mistress of the household. A great deal of selfishness
underlies human nature; it often works without our knowledge, and no one
is exempt from it; honourable and kind people, not recognising selfish
motives in themselves, quite honestly attribute their actions to other
and more presentable causes; but they deceive themselves and others
unintentionally. Where there is no kindness of heart or refinement of
manners, selfishness shows itself without any concealment or apology;
and so it was with the womankind of Stepan Mihailovitch. It was
inevitable that they should all resent their brother's marriage,
irrespective of his choice. "Alosha will change towards us and love us
less than before; his bride will be a cuckoo in the nest and push out
the birds born there"--such would certainly have been the language of
the sisters, even if Alexyei Stepanitch had chosen a bird of their own
feather; but Sofya Nikolayevna was worse than anything they could
imagine. Alexandra summoned her sister Elizabeth and hurried to Bagrovo,
to communicate to her mother and sisters--of course, with suitable
embellishments--all the information she had received of her brother's
goings on. They believed every word she said, and their opinion of Sofya
Nikolayevna was to the following effect. In the first place, the Zubin
girl--this was her regular name in the secret meetings of the family
council--was of mean birth: her grandfather had been a Ural Cossack, and
her mother, Vyera Ivanovna Kandalintsoff, had belonged to the merchant
class; the alliance was therefore a degradation to an ancient and noble
family. In the second place, the Zubin girl was a mere pauper: if her
father died or was dismissed from his post, she would depend on charity
for her bread, and all her brothers and sisters would be a stone round
her husband's neck. Thirdly, the Zubin girl was proud and fashionable, a
crafty adventuress who was accustomed to lord it over the town of Ufa;
and she would turn up her nose with no ceremony at plain people living
in the country, however long their pedigree. Fourthly and lastly, the
Zubin girl was a witch who used magic herbs to keep all the men running
after her with their tongues hanging out; and their poor brother was one
of her victims; she had scented out his future wealth and his easy
temper, and had determined to marry into a noble family by hook or by
crook. Alexandra managed the whole affair; her glib and wicked tongue
frightened them all and soon proved to them, beyond all possibility of
doubt, that such a marriage was a terrible misfortune for them. "Likely
enough, she will get round Stepan Mihailovitch himself, and then we're
all done for; we must leave no stone unturned to prevent the marriage."
It was clearly of the first importance to impress upon Stepan
Mihailovitch the worst possible opinion of Sofya Nikolayevna; but who
was to bell the cat? Their conscience was not clear, and they dared not
go to work openly. If their father suspected that they had any concealed
purpose, he would not believe even the truth in that case; once before,
when there had been some talk of choosing a daughter-in-law, he had seen
through their repugnance to the scheme and had told them so plainly.
They had recourse therefore to the following stratagem. Arina
Vassilyevna had a married niece living near; her name was Flona
Lupenevsky; she was short and stout, a notorious fool and gossip, and
not averse to strong liquors. She was instructed to come to Bagrovo as
if on an ordinary visit, and to bring in, among other topics, the
love-affairs of Alexyei Stepanitch; she was, of course, to represent
Sofya Nikolayevna in the most unfavourable light. Alexandra spent a long
time coaching this lady in what she was to say and how she was to say
it. When she had learnt it as well as she could, Mme. Lupenevsky turned
up at Bagrovo and had dinner there; after dinner, hosts and guests slept
for three hours and then assembled for tea. The master of the house was
in good humour and himself gave his guest an opening to begin her
performance. "Come now, Flona," he said, "tell us the news you got from
the travellers to Ufa"--her sister, Mme. Kalpinsky, had just been there
with her husband--"I warrant they brought home a good budget, and you
will add as much more out of your own head."
"You will always have your joke, dear uncle," said the lady; "but they
brought plenty of news, and I have no need to invent." Then off she
started on a string of silly gossip, true and untrue, which I shall
spare my readers. My grandfather pretended to disbelieve her throughout,
even when she was telling the truth; he made fun of her stories, threw
her out on purpose, and teased her till all the hearers laughed
heartily. The stupid woman, who had taken a stiff glass on waking to
give her courage, got vexed at last and said with some heat: "Uncle, why
do you keep on laughing and believe nothing I say? Wait a moment; I have
kept one special bit of news for the end, and that won't make you laugh,
though you can't help believing it." The family exchanged glances, and
my grandfather laughed. "Come, out with it!" he said coolly; "I shan't
believe it; and, if I don't laugh at it, it's because I'm bored by your
stories." "O uncle, uncle," she began, "you're quite in the dark about
my dear cousin, Alexyei Stepanitch. He's a perfect wreck: the witch of
Ufa, the daughter of a great man there, Governor or Commander-in-Chief,
I don't know which, has used devilish arts to fascinate him. She's a
perfect beauty, they say, and has captivated all the men, young and old;
she has bewitched them with magic herbs, and they all run after her. And
my poor cousin, Alexyei Stepanitch, is so bad that he can neither eat
nor drink nor sleep. He's constantly sitting beside her, he can't take
his eyes off her, he just looks and sighs; and at night he's always
walking past her house, carrying a gun and a sword and keeping guard
over her. They say that the Zubin girl is very sweet upon him; of course
he's handsome and well-born; she knows what she's about and means to
marry him. It's natural enough: she has no money, and her father is a
Cossack's son who rose from the ranks; though he has worked his way up
and held great posts, he has put nothing by; he has spent every penny on
dinners and fine parties and dresses for his daughter. The old man is at
death's door, and there is a swarm of children--half a dozen of them by
his two wives. They will all settle on your shoulders, uncle, if my
cousin marries her; she has no portion but the clothes she wears; they
have silk to their backs but nothing to put in their bellies. And
Alexyei Stepanitch, they say, is changed out of all knowledge: he looks
terrible; the very servants weep to see him and dare not inform you.
Believe me, uncle, every single word is gospel truth. Question his
servants, and they won't deny it."
At this, Arina Vassilyevna began to cry and her daughters to rub their
eyes. My grandfather was rather taken aback, but soon recovered himself.
Then he smiled and said coolly: "Plenty of lies there, and perhaps a
grain of truth. I have heard myself that the young lady is pretty and
clever; and that's all the magic there is about it.[38] It's little
wonder if Alexyei's eyes were dazzled. All the rest is rubbish. Mlle.
Zubin has no idea of marrying Alexyei; he is no match for her; she will
find a better man and a more pushing man to marry her. And now, that's
enough: not a word more on the subject! Let us go and drink tea out of
doors." As a matter of course, neither Mme. Lupenevsky nor any one else
dared to refer again to the news from Ufa. The visitor departed in the
evening. After supper, when Arina Vassilyevna and her daughters were
about to take a silent farewell of Stepan Mihailovitch, he stopped them
and said: "Well, Arisha, what do you think about it? Though that stupid
Flona added plenty of lies, yet it seems to me there is truth in the
story too. The boy's letters have been quite different of late. The
thing needs some looking into. The best plan would be to summon Alosha
here; we shall learn all the truth from him." At this point Alexandra
offered to send a special messenger to Ufa to find out the truth through
a relation of her husband's: "She is a very honest woman," she said,
"and nothing would make her tell a lie." Her father agreed not to send
for his son till the fresh report arrived. Alexandra started at once for
her own house, which was not more than 30 _versts_ from Bagrovo, and
returned in a week, bringing with her the letter I have mentioned
already, which she had received long before from her gossiping female
friend at Ufa. This letter was shown and read aloud to Stepan
Mihailovitch; and, though he put little faith in the women as detectives
and informers, some statements in the letter seemed to him probable, and
he was displeased. He said positively, that, if Mlle. Zubin did wish to
marry Alosha, he would forbid it, on the ground of her birth. "Write by
the next post to Alosha," he said, "and tell him to come home." A few
days passed, and were used by the women to prejudice Stepan Mihailovitch
as strongly as possible against the marriage; and then, as we know
already, the young man turned up at Bagrovo without having received the
letter.
[38] In general, my grandfather had little belief in witchcraft. A
wizard once told him that a gun was charmed and would not go off.
He took out the shot secretly and fired at the wizard, who got a
great fright. But he recovered and said that my grandfather himself
was "a man of power"; and this was generally believed, except by
Stepan Mihailovitch. (_Author's note._)
Alexyei Stepanitch heard the whole of this story from Tatyana, and it
made him very serious and uneasy. He was not by nature strong-willed,
and had been brought up in blind obedience to his family and his father.
In his alarm, he did not know what to do. At last he decided to speak to
his mother. Arina Vassilyevna was devoted to her only son; but, as she
was accustomed to look on him as still a child and convinced that this
child had taken a fancy to a dangerous toy, she met his avowal of strong
feeling with the words one would use to a child who begged to hold the
hot poker; and, when this treatment brought the tears to his eyes, she
tried to comfort him in the way that a child is comforted for the loss
of a favourite toy. He might say what he pleased, he might try as he
pleased to refute the slander brought against Sofya Nikolayevna--his
mother either did not listen at all or listened without attending. Two
more days passed by; the young man's heart was breaking; though his love
and longing for Sofya Nikolayevna increased every hour, it is probable
that he would not easily have plucked up courage to broach the subject
to his father; but Stepan Mihailovitch took the first step. Early one
fine morning, he was sitting as usual on his stoop, when Alexyei
Stepanitch, looking rather pale and worn after an almost sleepless
night, came out to join his father. The old man was in a cheerful mood;
he greeted his son affectionately, and then, looking attentively at his
face, he read what was going on within. He gave him his hand to kiss,
and then said, not in anger but with energy: "Listen to me, Alexyei! I
know the burden on your mind, and I see that this fancy has taken a
strong hold of you. Just tell me the story now, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth." Alexyei Stepanitch felt more fear than love for
his father, and was not in the way of speaking to him frankly; but his
love for Sofya Nikolayevna lent him courage. He threw himself at his
father's feet and repeated the whole story, omitting no details and
keeping nothing back. Stepan Mihailovitch listened with patience and
attention. When one of the family appeared in the distance and evidently
meant to come and say "good morning," he waved his blackthorn staff with
a significant gesture, and then nobody, not even Aksyutka with the tea,
dared approach before he summoned them. Though his son's story was
ill-arranged, confused, long, and unconvincing, yet Stepan Mihailovitch
with his clear head made out the gist of the matter. But unfortunately
he did not and could not approve of it. Of the romantic side of love he
had small appreciation, and his masculine pride was offended by his
son's susceptibility, which seemed to him degrading weakness in a man
and a sign of worthlessness; and yet at the same time he saw that Sofya
Nikolayevna was not in the least to blame, and that all the evil he had
heard about her was merely malicious falsehood, due to the ill will of
his own womankind. After a little reflection, he said, with no sign of
anger, even affectionately, but firmly: "Listen to me, Alexyei! You are
just at the time of life when a pretty girl may easily take a man's
fancy. In that there is no harm whatever; but I see that you have gone
too far, and that does not do. I don't blame Sofya Nikolayevna in the
least; she seems to me a very worthy girl; but she's not a good match
for you, and she won't suit us. In the first place, her nobility dates
from yesterday, while you are the descendant of an ancient and noble
line. Then she is accustomed to town life, highly educated, and
independent; since her stepmother died she has ruled a household; and,
though poor herself, she is used to luxury; but we are plain country
people, and you know yourself how we live. And you ought to know your
own character; you're too compliant. But her cleverness is the chief
objection to her; to marry a wife cleverer than one's self is a mistake;
she is sure to rule her husband; and you are so much in love that you
are certain to spoil her at first. Well, as your father, I now bid you
clear your head of this notion. I confess I don't believe myself that
Sofya Nikolayevna would accept you. Choose your shoe of the right size,
and it won't pinch your foot. We will find out a wife for you here--some
gentle, quiet girl, well-born and with some money. Then you can give up
your office and live here in comfort. You know, my boy, we're not
rolling in wealth. We get enough to eat, but very little money comes in.
As to the Kurolyessoff legacy, about which people made such a noise, I
never give it a thought; we can't count on it: Praskovya Ivanovna is
young enough to marry and have children of her own. Now, mind what I
say, Alosha: throw all this off like water off a duck's back, and don't
let me hear again of Sofya Nikolayevna." Then Stepan Mihailovitch gave
his hand graciously to his son, who kissed it as respectfully as usual.
The old man ordered tea to be served and the family to be summoned; he
was more than usually cheerful and friendly to them all, but Alexyei
Stepanitch was terribly depressed. No anger on his father's part would
have produced such an effect; that was soon over and was always followed
by indulgence and kindness, but the old man's quiet determination
deprived him of all hope. There was a change in his expression, so
sudden and complete, that his mother was frightened to see it and plied
him with questions--"Was he unwell? What had happened to him?" His
sisters noticed the change also, but they were more cunning and held
their tongues. None of this was lost on Stepan Mihailovitch. He looked
askance at Arina Vassilyevna and muttered through his teeth, "Don't
worry the boy!" So they took no more notice of him but left him in
peace, and the day went on with its usual routine.