bridegroom too made his preparations, being guided by the advice of Mme.
Alakayeff, who assumed the entire management of him. The old lady, in
spite of her shrewdness, was surprised by his profound ignorance of the
customs of polite society. But for her, he would have been guilty of
many blunders which would have made his bride blush for shame. Thus he
intended to give her as a birthday-present a kind of cloth for a dress
which would only have been suitable as a present to her maid; and he
thought of driving to the church in an old shandrydan without springs,
which would have made all the town laugh; and so on. The things were not
of importance in themselves; but it would have tried Sofya Nikolayevna
too hard to see her bridegroom the laughing-stock of Ufa society. All
such things were put right by Mme. Alakayeff, or rather by the bride
herself, for the two women discussed every point together. Sofya
Nikolayevna told her lover in time, that he must not think of giving her
a present for her birthday, because she loathed birthday-presents in
general. For the wedding, she made him buy a new English carriage which
had lately been ordered from Petersburg by a local landowner; his name
was Murzahanoff,[41] and he had managed to run through his fortune in a
few months. The price paid for the carriage was 350 _roubles_; Sofya
Nikolayevna bought it herself as a present from her father to the
bridegroom, and begged him not to trouble the dying man by thanking him.
And the other difficulties were got over in the same fashion.
[41] The Russianised form of an oriental name, Mirza Khan.
Then the bride and bridegroom wrote, for themselves and M. Zubin, to
Stepan Mihailovitch and Arina Vassilyevna, pressing them to honour the
wedding by their presence; but the old people, as a matter of course,
declined the invitation. They had lived so long in their country
solitude that town and town society seemed to them something strange and
formidable. None of the daughters wished to go either; but Stepan
Mihailovitch thought this awkward, and desired Elizabeth and Alexandra
to attend the wedding. The latter was accompanied by her husband,
Karatayeff; but Yerlykin was detained by his duties at Orenburg.
The presence of these uninvited and unexpected guests was the cause of
much annoyance to Sofya Nikolayevna. Her future sisters-in-law were
clever and cunning women; they were determined to dislike her, and their
behaviour to her was cold, unfriendly, and even rude. Though Sofya
Nikolayevna knew very well the sort of attitude they were likely to
adopt, yet she thought it her duty to be friendly and even cordial to
them at first; but when she saw that all her efforts were vain, and that
the better she treated them the worse they treated her, she retired
behind a wall of cold civility. But this did not protect her from those
mean hints and innuendoes which it is impossible not to understand and
not to resent, though it is awkward to do either, because you lay
yourself open to the retort--"If the cap fits, wear it!" This odious
form of attack, now banished to the servants' hall by the advance of
refinement, was formidable in those days, and much used in the houses of
rural landowners, many of whom differed little from their own servants
in their manners and customs. But is it true that it has really been
banished? Does it not still live on among us, concealed under more
decent and artistic forms?
The good people of Ufa made fun, as might be expected, of the country
clothes and manners of the two ladies. As to Karatayeff, who had now
adopted all the Bashkir habits and began drinking Bashkir decoctions at
eight in the morning, when he was first introduced to Sofya Nikolayevna,
he kissed her hand with a sounding smack three times over, and cried out
with real Bashkir enthusiasm, "My word! what a dazzler brother Alexyei
has hooked!" The coarse jests and compliments of the man were as
distressing as the malicious sallies of the women; and both forced Sofya
Nikolayevna to swallow many tears. But worse than all was the blindness
of Alexyei Stepanitch: he seemed perfectly satisfied with the relations
between his sisters and his bride, and this was not only a mortification
for the present but also a peril for the future. These venomous
creatures, who were staying with their brother, began at once to drop
their poison into his simple soul, and did it so artfully that he did
not suspect their manoeuvres. Allusions to the young lady's pride, to
the poverty which she hid under jewels and fine clothes, to her caprices
and his meek submission to them, were dinned into his ears all day long.
Much passed unnoticed, but much also went straight to the mark and made
him thoughtful and vaguely uneasy. All their attacks, whether secret or
open, were accompanied by a pretence of sympathy and sisterly affection.
"What makes you look so worn, my dear boy?" Elizabeth would ask; "Sofya
Nikolayevna wears you out with all her commissions. You've just got back
from the other end of the town, tired and hungry, and off you run again,
without eating a morsel, to dance attendance on her. As your sisters, we
can't help being sorry for you"; and then sham tears, or at least some
play with the pocket-handkerchief, completed the crafty sentence. Then
Alexandra would make a furious entry into the conversation. "No, my
dear, I really cannot stand it! I know you will be angry, and perhaps
you will cease to love us; but I can't help it, I must tell you the
truth. You are quite changed: you're ashamed of us and have forgotten us
altogether; your one wish is to mumble that girl's hand; your one fear,
to get into her black books. You have become her lackey, her slave! Then
it cuts us to the heart to see that old witch, Mme. Alakayeff, ordering
you about like a servant and making you fetch and carry for her; and
she's not content with that, but finds fault with you and urges you to
greater activity." Alexyei Stepanitch could think of no answer to all
this, except that he loved his sisters and would continue to do so,
and--it was time to go and see Sofya Nikolayevna; whereupon he took his
hat and hurried off. "Oh, go by all means!" Alexandra called after him,
"and go quick; or else she will be angry and perhaps withhold her hand
from your lips!" Scenes like this took place again and again and
undoubtedly left their impression.
Sofya Nikolayevna could not help noticing that his sisters' visit had
brought about a certain change in her lover. He seemed depressed, was
less exact in keeping his engagements, and spent less time with her. The
reason for this she herself understood very well; and Mme. Alakayeff,
who had become a very intimate friend and also knew all that went on in
the Bagroffs' lodgings, did not fail to provide her with detailed
information. Her impulsive nature made her unwilling to let things drag
on. She reasoned justly, that she ought not to give time for the
sisters' influence to take root at leisure, that she must open her
lover's eyes and put the strength of his character and affection to a
decisive test. If they proved too weak, it was better to part before
marriage than to unite her fate to such a feeble creature, who was, to
use her own expression, "neither a shield from the sun nor a cloak to
keep out the rain." She summoned him early one morning and ordered that
no visitors should be admitted to the drawing-room where they were
sitting. Then she turned to Alexyei Stepanitch, who was looking pale and
frightened, and addressed him as follows:--
"I wish to have a frank explanation with you and to make a clean breast
of what I am feeling; and I ask you to do the same. Your sisters detest
me and did their best to rouse your parents against me. That I know from
yourself. But your love overcame all obstacles: your parents gave you
their approval, and I resolved to accept you and brave the hatred of all
your family. I hoped to find protection in your love for me and in my
endeavour to prove to your parents that I don't deserve their
displeasure. But now I see that I was mistaken. You saw yourself how I
received your sisters, how friendly I was and how hard I tried to please
them; and, though their rudeness made me draw back, yet I never once
failed in politeness to them. And what has been the result? It is only a
week since they came, and you treat me differently already: you make me
promises and then forget to keep them; you spend less time with me; you
are depressed and anxious, and even less affectionate to me than you
used to be. Don't defend yourself, or deny it; that would not be
honourable on your part. I know that you love me still, but you are
afraid to show it; you fear your sisters, and that is why you are
depressed and even avoid opportunities of being alone with me. You know
yourself that all this is quite true. Well, then, tell me, how can I
hope that your love will stand firm? It is a strange kind of love that
turns coward and hides, because your sisters disapprove of your bride,
as you knew they did long ago. Suppose your parents disapprove of me and
turn up their noses at me? What then? Then you will really cease to love
me. No, Alexyei Stepanitch, honourable men do not behave so to the woman
they love. The knowledge that your sisters disliked me should have made
you twice as attentive and twice as devoted in their presence; and then
they would not have dared to utter a syllable; but you have suffered
them to use insulting language in your presence. I know just how they
speak to you. From all this I conclude that your love is not love at
all, but love-making, that I cannot rely on you, and that we had better
part now than be unhappy for life. Consider carefully what I have said;
I shall give you two days to think it over. Come to the house as usual,
but I shall not see you alone and shall not refer to this interview.
After two days, I shall ask for an honest answer to these questions:
'Have you sufficient firmness to be my defender against your relations
and any one else who chooses to insult me? Can you shut your sisters'
mouths and prevent them from uttering in your presence a single
insulting word or allusion against me?' To break her engagement a week
before her marriage is a great misfortune for any girl; but it is better
to bear it once for all than to suffer all one's life. You know that I
am not in love with you, but I was beginning to love you; and I believe
my love would have been stronger and more constant than yours. Now,
good-bye! For to-day and to-morrow we are strangers."
Long before she ended, Alexyei Stepanitch had been in tears, and he
tried several times to interrupt; but, before he could open his mouth,
she had left the room and shut the door behind her. It was some time
before he recovered from this tremendous blow. But at last the terrible
thought of losing his adored mistress presented itself to him with
appalling reality, and summoned up that energy and vigour of which the
mildest and gentlest of men are capable, though they cannot keep it up
for long. He hurried home; and, when his sisters, with no pity for his
evident disturbance and distress, greeted him with the usual malicious
jests, he flew into such a rage and attacked them with such fury that
they were frightened. The wrath of a gentle patient man is a formidable
thing. Among other things he told his sisters that, if they ventured to
say another insulting word about his bride or about himself, he would
instantly move to other lodgings, from which, as well as from M. Zubin's
house, they would be excluded; and he would write to his father and tell
him the whole story. That was enough. Alexandra had a clear recollection
of her father's warning-"Keep your tongue quiet, and don't stir up the
rest of the family!" She knew very well what a thunder-cloud her
brother's complaint would call up, and what alarming consequences she
might expect. Both the sisters fell on their brother's neck and begged
forgiveness with tears; they solemnly declared that it should never
happen again; they were really very fond of Sofya Nikolayevna, and it
was only out of pity for his health and fear that he was doing too much
that they had ventured on these foolish jests. They called on Sofya
Nikolayevna that same day and paid court to her with the utmost
servility. The meaning of all this was not lost upon her, and she felt
she had prevailed.
The position of her lover really deserved pity. His feelings, which had
been calmed and composed to some extent by frequent interviews with
Sofya Nikolayevna, her simple friendly behaviour to him, and the near
prospect of the marriage, had then been rather alarmed and abashed by
the sneers of his sisters; and now they flamed up so fiercely, that at
the present moment he was capable of any self-sacrifice, of any
desperate action, a true knight-errant! His state of mind was clearly
reflected on his handsome young face during those two endless days. The
lovers met several times, and Sofya Nikolayevna could not look at his
face without pain; but she had the firmness to support the test she had
imposed. The agitation and pity which she felt were a surprise to
herself. She felt that she did really love this simple, modest young
man, who was absolutely devoted to her and would not have hesitated to
put an end to his existence if she made up her mind to refuse him. At
last the two long days were over. Early on the third day Alexyei
Stepanitch sat in the drawing-room, waiting for his mistress to appear.
The door opened softly, and in she came, more beautiful, more charming
than ever. She was smiling, and her eyes expressed such tenderness that,
when he looked at her and saw her kind hand stretched out towards him,
the excess of his emotion deprived him for an instant of the power of
speech. He soon recovered, and then, instead of taking her hand, fell at
her feet and poured forth a torrent of burning heartfelt eloquence. She
interrupted him and raised him to his feet. Then she said: "I see and
feel your love, and I share it; I believe all your promises; I put my
fate in your hands without fear." She had never been so affectionate to
him before, and she used words of tenderness which he had never before
heard from her lips.
Only five days remained before the marriage. All their preparations were
complete, and the lovers were free to spend most of their time together.
For five whole months Sofya Nikolayevna had been true to her intention
of educating her future husband over again. She never lost a suitable
moment, but did her best to impart those ideals which he did not
possess, to clear up and develop feelings of which he was dimly
conscious, and to root out the notions which he had derived from his
early surroundings. She even made him read, and discussed with him the
books he had read, explaining what puzzled him, filling up gaps in his
memory, and illustrating fiction from real life. But it is probable that
she got on faster with her task during these five days than in the
course of five long months; for the recent incident which I have
described had raised her lover's mind to a higher level of refinement,
and he was in an unusually receptive and impressionable mood. How far
the teacher succeeded on the whole in impressing her ideas upon the
pupil, I cannot venture to decide. It is hard to know how much weight to
attach to the opinions of the two persons concerned; but it is certain
that in later years they both maintained--and they appealed to the
evidence of disinterested persons in confirmation of the statement--that
a great change took place in Alexyei Stepanitch, and even a complete
transformation. I am very willing to believe it; but I have a proof that
his proficiency in social etiquette left something to be desired. I know
that he made his bride very angry the day before the marriage, and that
her vehemence left a strong and painful impression on his mind. It
happened in the following way. Two ladies were calling on Sofya
Nikolayevna when a servant brought in a paper parcel and handed it to
his mistress, with the explanation that Alexyei Stepanitch had sent it
by his coachman and wished her at once to make a cap for his sister
Alexandra. Her lover had left her half an hour before without saying one
word about this commission, and Sofya Nikolayevna was exceedingly
annoyed. The ladies, who were of some importance, had supposed at first
that the parcel contained a present from the bridegroom; and now they
did not try to conceal their amusement. Sofya Nikolayevna lost patience:
she ordered the parcel to be returned, with a message that Alexyei
Stepanitch had better apply to a milliner; it was no doubt a mistake to
have brought the thing to her. The explanation was quite simple. On
going home, he had found his sister in a great difficulty, because the
milliner, who had engaged to make her a cap for the wedding, had fallen
ill and returned the materials. As he had seen with his own eyes the
skill with which Sofya Nikolayevna could trim hats and caps, he offered
to help his sister out of her trouble, and told his servant to carry the
parcel to his bride, with a humble request that she would trim a cap for
Alexandra. But the servant was busy, and, instead of going himself, sent
the coachman; and the humble request became, in the coachman's mouth, an
imperious demand. Alexyei Stepanitch hastened back to explain matters,
and carried with him the same unlucky parcel. Sofya Nikolayevna had not
yet cooled down, when she saw him coming into the room with the odious
parcel under his arm; and she flared up worse than ever, and said many
violent and unkind things which she had better have left unspoken. The
culprit, utterly dumbfounded, tried to defend himself, but did it very
badly; he was seriously hurt by this onslaught. She sent the materials
for the cap to some milliner she knew of; and then, repenting of her
violence, she tried to put matters right. But, to her surprise, Alexyei
Stepanitch could not get over it: he felt that he had been unjustly
treated, and she had frightened him. He became very depressed, and her
efforts to calm and cheer him were unsuccessful.
The wedding-day, the 10th of May, 1788, arrived, and the bridegroom paid
an early visit to his bride. After her excitement of the previous day,
she was distressed to see that Alexyei Stepanitch still wore the same
pained expression. She felt hurt; for she had always supposed that he
would be in an ecstasy of joy on the day when he led her to the altar;
and here he was, looking demure and even depressed! She expressed her
feelings, and that made matters worse. Of course, he assured her that he
considered himself the happiest man in the world, and so on; but the
pompous and trivial phrases, which he had repeated many a time before
and she had heard with satisfaction, were now distasteful to her ear,
because they lacked the fire of inward conviction. They soon parted, to
meet next in church, where the bridegroom was to be in waiting for her
at six in the evening.
Sofya Nikolayevna was assailed by a terrible misgiving--would she be
happy in her marriage? A host of dark forebodings passed before her
heated imagination. She blamed herself for her hot temper and violent
language; she recognised that the offence was trifling, and that she
must expect many slips of the kind on her lover's part, and must take
them calmly. They had happened often enough before; but, on this
occasion, the unlucky combination of circumstances and the presence of
the two unfriendly visitors had pricked her vanity and irritated her
natural impetuosity. Conscious that she had frightened her lover, she
repented of her fault; but at the same time she was aware in the depth
of her heart that she was quite capable of committing the same fault
again. And now she realised afresh all the difficulty of the tremendous
task she had undertaken--the reformation and regeneration of a man of
twenty-seven. Her whole life--and it might be long--must be spent with a
husband whom she loved indeed but could not entirely respect; there
would be constant collision between utterly different ideas and opposite
qualities, and they would often misunderstand one another. Doubts of
success, doubts of her own strength, doubts of her power to command the
qualities of firmness and calmness so foreign to her nature--these rose
before her for the first time in their appalling truth, and she shrank
back in terror. But what could she do? If she broke off the marriage at
the eleventh hour, what would be the consequences? It would be a
terrible blow to her dying father, who took comfort in the conviction
that his daughter would be happy in the care of a kind husband; her
rivals in society and enemies would mock at her; she would be the talk
of the town and the laughing-stock of the district, perhaps even a mark
for calumny; and, above all, she would kill, literally kill, her devoted
lover. And all for what? Merely because she was afraid she might lack
firmness to carry out a purpose which she had deliberately formed and
which was beginning to take shape with triumphant success. "No! that
shall never be! God will help me; Our Lady of Smolensk will be my
intercessor and will give me strength to conquer my impetuous nature."
Thus Sofya Nikolayevna thought, and thus she decided. She wept and
prayed and regained her stability.
The Church of the Assumption was quite close to the Zubins' house, and
there was then an empty space round it. Long before six o'clock, it was
surrounded by a crowd of curious spectators. The high steps projecting
from the house into the street were blocked by the carriages of the
privileged persons who had been invited to escort the bride. The bride
was dressed, and her little brother, Nikolinka, whose birth had cost his
mother her life three years before, put on the stockings and shoes,
according to established custom, though of course the maids lent their
assistance. By six the bride was ready; she received her father's
blessing and came into the drawing-room. The rich bridal-dress lent an
added lustre to her beauty. The bridegroom, on his way to church, had to
pass right under the drawing-room windows, and Sofya Nikolayevna saw him
drive past in the English carriage drawn by the four fine horses bred at
Bagrovo; he had his head out and was looking up at the open windows; she
smiled and nodded. Next came the bridegroom's sisters with Mme.
Alakayeff, and all the men who were escorting him to church. She did not
wish to keep him waiting, and insisted, in spite of various hindrances,
that they should start at once. Sofya Nikolayevna was calm and composed
when she entered the church; she gave her arm cheerfully and smilingly
to the bridegroom; but she was vexed to see that his face still wore the
same sad expression; and it was generally remarked that they both looked
depressed during the ceremony. The church was brilliantly lighted and
full of people; the cathedral choir did not spare their voices.
Altogether, it was a dignified and splendid ceremony. When the rite was
over, the young couple were escorted to the Zubins' house by the
bridegroom's sisters, the whole train of friends and relations on both
sides, and all the important people of Ufa. Dancing began at once and
went on till an early but sumptuous supper was served. Privileged guests
paid a visit to M. Zubin in his study and congratulated him on his
daughter's marriage. The usual festivities took place on the next and
following days--balls, dinners, and calls, in fact, the regular routine
which we see nowadays even in Moscow and Petersburg.
The shade of sadness soon vanished from the faces of the young couple.
They were perfectly happy. Kind people could not look at them without
pleasure; and every one said, "What a handsome couple!" A week later,
they prepared for a visit to Bagrovo; the bridegroom's sisters had gone
back there three days after the wedding, and Sofya Nikolayevna had sent
by them an affectionate letter to the old people.
Startled by their brother's explosion, Elizabeth and Alexandra had been
cautious of late. They refrained from all hints and sneers and grimaces
in his presence, and were even polite to Sofya Nikolayevna. She, of
course, was not taken in by this; but their brother entirely believed in
the sincerity of their devotion to his bride. At the wedding and the
festivities which followed, they were, naturally, somewhat out of place,
and therefore hastened their departure. On arriving at Bagrovo, they
determined to do nothing rash and to hide their hostility towards Sofya
Nikolayevna from their father; but to their mother and two sisters they
described the marriage and events at Ufa in such a way as to fill their
minds with a strong prejudice against the bride; and they did not forget
to mention their brother's threats and his fury excited by their attacks
upon Sofya Nikolayevna. It was agreed to treat her kindly in the
presence of Stepan Mihailovitch, and to say nothing bad about her to him
directly; at the same time they were to use every opportunity to excite
by indirect means his displeasure against their enemy. It was a highly
delicate operation; and Elizabeth and Alexandra could not trust it to
any hands but their own.