all the family. It was a long time since he had been seen in such a
bright and gentle mood: whether it was due to a good sleep or to happy
feelings, it was clear to every one that the old master was satisfied
and cheerful beyond his wont. After their father's pronouncement,
Alexandra and Elizabeth were on their guard, while Tanyusha (as she was
always called) and her mother were very willing to be more friendly and
conversational. At a sign from his wife Karatayeff began with more
boldness to echo what was said, even when he was not addressed; but his
brother-in-law, the General, persisted in his gloomy silence and frowned
significantly. The conversation became unusually brisk and animated. The
old man expressed a wish to have his tea early, in the shade near the
stoop, of course; and the privilege of pouring it out was conferred on
Sofya Nikolayevna exclusively. Tanyusha was quite willing to hand over
the office. After tea Stepan Mihailovitch ordered two cars to be brought
round, took his daughter-in-law in one, and drove off with all his
family to the mill. It should be said that a mill was a special hobby of
my grandfather's, and that he understood the working of it thoroughly.
The mill itself was not much to look at, and the weed grew round it in
an untidy way; but the stones did their work thoroughly well. He liked
to show off his mill, and now displayed it in detail to his
daughter-in-law, taking pleasure in her utter ignorance and
astonishment, which sometimes turned to fear, when he suddenly turned on
a strong current of water upon all the four wheels, till the machinery
began to move and swing and rattle, the stones to whirl round, creaking
and whizzing, and the building, filled with flour-dust, to quiver and
shake under foot. All this was an entire novelty to Sofya Nikolayevna,
and she did not like it at all, though out of politeness she asked many
questions and expressed surprise and admiration at everything. He was
much pleased, and kept her there a long time. When the pair went out
upon the dam, where Alexyei Stepanitch and his sisters were fishing,
they were hailed with laughter by the anglers: they were both covered
with flour. Stepan Mihailovitch was accustomed to this; besides he had
given a shake and a brush to his clothes on leaving the mill; but Sofya
Nikolayevna had no suspicion that she was so completely and artistically
powdered. When he looked at her, her father-in-law himself laughed
heartily; and she laughed more than any one, and was very merry,
regretting only that she had no looking-glass to consult, to find out if
her ball-dress became her. Seeing the anglers intent upon their sport,
Stepan Mihailovitch next drove his companion round the pond and over the
bridge; and, after visiting the stream higher up, he came back along the
dam to the place where the anglers were engaged, while Arina
Vassilyevna, who was very stout, sat on the ground and watched them. The
whole course of their drive was over bog and swamp; it was hardly safe
to cross the crazy little bridge, and difficult to make way over the dam
which was made of manure and sank under the wheels. Though Sofya
Nikolayevna found all this distasteful, it was impossible for Stepan
Mihailovitch to detect her. He saw neither mire nor swamp, and he was
impervious to the unpleasant smell from the stagnant water and the
material of the dam. He had planned and constructed it all himself, and
he enjoyed it all. It grew damp at sunset, and all set off for home in
good spirits. The anglers carried their spoil with them, perch and other
kinds. The bailiff was waiting for his master by the stoop; and orders
were given about work on the land, while the bride put her dress in
order. Meanwhile the fish was boiled or fried in sour cream, while the
largest perch were baked in their skins and scales; and all these were
pronounced very good at supper.
So the second day passed, and the party broke up early, because the
young couple had to make an early start next morning for their visit.
When alone with her mother and youngest sister, Alexandra threw off the
mask with relief and gave full play to her infernal temper and cruel
tongue. She saw perfectly that all was lost and all her forebodings
realised: that her father was taken in the toils and infatuated with the
adventuress, and there was nothing to be done now except to dismiss the
pair to Ufa as soon as possible and devise some scheme in their absence.
She abused her mother and sister for being too affectionate: "But for
me," she said, "you would have been taken in too by that dressed-up
doll, that pauper with a Cossack for her grandfather."
At six exactly next morning the young couple started in their English
coach drawn by six of the fine horses bred at Bagrovo. Sofya Nikolayevna
was up in time to give his tea to her father-in-law; and he embraced her
at starting, and even signed her with the Cross, because she was to be
absent for the night. They drove down the river and across it, and then
uphill to the little town of Boogoorooslan. Without a halt our
travellers crossed the river Great Kinel, and the horses trotted at the
rate of ten _versts_ an hour along the rutty road on the flat side of
the river, where the grass grew tall and thick and there was no sign of
habitation. It was long since Alexyei Stepanitch had been across the
Kinel; and he was delighted by the greenness and fragrance of the
steppe. Bustards constantly rose off the road, and solitary snipe kept
up with the carriage, wheeling over it and flying on ahead, or perching
on the guide-posts and filling the air with their notes. Alexyei
Stepanitch was very sorry that he had not taken his gun. In those days
the steppe was alive with birds of every kind, and the sound of their
myriad voices was so attractive to him, and indeed absorbed his
attention so completely, that his ears were generally deaf to the lively
and clever conversation of his wife. She soon noticed this and became
thoughtful; her high spirits gave place to displeasure, and she began to
talk to her maid, Parasha, who was with them in the coach. After
crossing a district of high level land, they arrived at their
destination exactly at noon. The little wooden house, an even greater
contrast than Bagrovo to the houses of Ufa, stood on the flat bank of
the Little Kinel, divided from it only by a kitchen-garden containing a
few sunflowers and young vegetables and rows of peeled pea-stakes. I
still recall with pleasure this unpretending spot, which I first saw ten
years after this time; and I understand why my father liked it and my
mother was bound to dislike it. It was a bare empty spot, quite flat and
fully exposed to the sun, without a bush or a tree; the level steppe
with its marmot-burrows lay all round; and the quiet river flowed by,
deep in places and overgrown with reeds. It had nothing striking or
picturesque to attract any one; yet Alexyei Stepanitch preferred it even
to Bagrovo. I don't agree with him, but I had a strong liking for that
quiet little house on the river-bank, the clear stream, the weed swaying
in the current, the wide stretch of grassy steppe, and the ferry which
started from close to the door and took you across to a yet wilder
steppe, where the prairie-grass stretched straight southwards to what
seemed an illimitable distance.
The hostess, with her two little boys and a daughter of two years old,
met her guests at the door; her sister Elizabeth and her husband were
there also. In spite of the unpromising aspect of the simple rooms,
everything was very clean and nice, much more so indeed than at Bagrovo.
Though "Miss Simplicity," as her sisters called her, was a widow with
small children, there was a neatness and order in the place which showed
that it was managed entirely by a female hand. I have said already that
Aksinya was a kind woman and had taken a fancy to her sister-in-law; it
was therefore very natural that she did honour to her guests and
received them with cordiality in her own house. This had been foreseen
at Bagrovo, and Elizabeth had been sent on purpose to restrain the
excessive friendliness of her sister by means of her superior
intelligence and higher position in society, due to her husband's rank.
But that simple soul held out against her clever, cunning sister: to all
her urgent admonitions her answer was short and plain: "Do as you please
at Bagrovo; you may hate and abuse Sofya Nikolayevna, but I like her;
she has always been polite and kind to me, and therefore I intend to
make her and my brother happy in my house." And she carried out her
purpose with sincere affection and satisfaction, showing every attention
to her sister-in-law and pressing her good things on both guests. But
the proud Elizabeth and even her husband--though he drank so much
towards evening that he had to be shut up in an empty bath-house--were
much colder and more distant in their behaviour than at Bagrovo. Sofya
Nikolayevna took no notice of them, and was charming to her hostess and
the children. After dinner the party rested for a little and then went
out for a walk by the river; they crossed by a ferry to the far bank and
drank tea there. Sofya Nikolayevna was asked to fish, but she declined,
saying that she hated fishing and was quite happy sitting with her
sisters-in-law. But Alexyei Stepanitch, much pleased to see how well his
wife got on with his eldest sister, eagerly accepted the proposal and
sat till supper-time on the bank, hidden in the thick reeds; he landed
several of the large bream which abounded in the quiet waters of the
Kinel. The servants used constantly to fish for their own amusement and
for that of their young masters. The guests determined to start next
morning at six, and were half inclined to depart even earlier, so as not
to keep Stepan Mihailovitch waiting for his dinner. Their hostess and
her sister were to wait till the evening, spending a night at
Boogoorooslan to rest the horses, and reaching Bagrovo the following
day.
Sofya Nikolayevna was still a little vexed with her husband. For all her
intelligence she could not understand how a man who loved her dearly
could also love his damp Bagrovo, with its stump-strewn woods, unsavoury
dam, and stagnant pools; how he could gaze with delight at the tiresome
steppe with its stupid snipe; and, above all, how he could desert his
wife for hours for the sake of a fishing-rod and those bream which smelt
so damp and disgusting! So she felt almost offended when Alexyei
Stepanitch tried to communicate to her his delight in nature and in
sport. She was wise enough, however, not to start upon explanations or
reproofs this time; the scene on the island was still fresh in her
memory.
The young couple passed a peaceful night in Aksinya's own bedroom which
she had given up to them; and she had done it up for them to the best of
her ability, undeterred by the caustic remarks of her sister. They left
the house half an hour earlier than the time originally fixed; and
nothing particular happened on their way back, except that Alexyei
Stepanitch was not quite so much absorbed by the steppe and the snipe,
and did not call out quite so loud when bustards rose off the road, so
that he could listen with more attention to his wife and look at her
more tenderly. They reached Bagrovo before they were expected. But
preparations were making for dinner, and Alexandra had had time to say:
"Poor papa will have to wait for dinner to-day; but how can you expect
town-people to get up so early several days running?" The old man saw
through this perfectly. He astonished them all by saying very
good-humouredly, "Well, never mind; we can wait for our guests." This
caused a sensation, because Stepan Mihailovitch had never in his life
sat down to dinner later than twelve o'clock, though sometimes, when he
felt hungry, he had it earlier, and the slightest delay or unpunctuality
made him exceedingly angry. "You see what Sofya Nikolayevna can do,"
whispered Alexandra to her mother and youngest sister; "if _she_ keeps
him waiting, there is no complaint; but if you had come back from
Nyeklyoodovo late for dinner, you would never have heard the end of it,
nor should we." The malicious whisper was hardly ended when the carriage
dashed up to the steps; while the tired horses snorted, the old man
kissed his daughter-in-law and praised her for being in time; then his
voice rang through the house, "Mazan, Tanaichonok, dinner at once!"
The day passed off as before. After tea Stepan Mihailovitch, whose
affection for his daughter-in-law seemed to grow with every hour,
ordered the drove of horses to be driven in from the steppe. He wished
to show it to Sofya Nikolayevna, who happened to say that she had never
seen such a thing and would like to see it. When the animals were driven
into the yard, the old man took his daughter-in-law round himself,
pointing out the best brood-mares, the yearlings and two-year-olds and
young geldings, all fat and healthy from the steppe where they grazed
together all summer. He gave her two fine mares with foals at foot, and
hoped she would have good fortune with their stock. Sofya Nikolayevna
was much pleased by the foals, and liked to watch them as they started
and bounded and then nuzzled against their mothers; and she expressed
much gratitude for the gift. Then Stepan Mihailovitch gave strict orders
to his head groom, Spirka: "See," he said, "that special care is taken
of Sofya Nikolayevna's mares; and we shall put a special mark on the
foals by splitting one ear rather lower; and later we must make a brand
with the young mistress's name on it." Then he turned to her: "I wish
you were a lover of horses, my dear," he went on; "Alexyei does not care
for them in the least." The old man was very fond of them himself, and,
though he was not rich, by endless trouble he had got together a large
stud and owned a breed which was the admiration of fanciers and good
judges. He was pleased by her interest in his stud; though her only
motive was to please him, he believed that she meant what she said, and
carried her off to see how the carriage-horses, his own and those of his
guests, were fed; of the latter there were often a large number in the
stables at Bagrovo.
I am afraid of wearying the reader by such a minute description of the
young couple's visit, and shall only say that the next day, which was
the fifth, was spent just like the preceding day. According to the order
of seniority the next formal visit should have been to the Yerlykins;
but, as their estate was 170 _versts_ from Bagrovo and much nearer Ufa,
it was settled to take them on the return journey to the town. There was
this other reason, that General Yerlykin, Elizabeth's silent, gloomy
husband, having broken out at Aksinya's house, had started on one of his
regular drinking bouts which generally lasted at least a week, so that
his wife had been forced to leave him with some friends at
Boogoorooslan, and give out that he was ill. So Alexandra was to receive
the next visit, and started off home with her husband on the previous
day; with her father's consent, she invited the oldest and youngest of
the sisters for the occasion, while Elizabeth remained behind,
ostensibly to be near her sick husband, though her real object was to
bring her influence to bear on her parents. The Karatayeffs lived about
50 _versts_ from Bagrovo; the distance was the same as to Aksinya's
house, but the road ran in the opposite direction, due north, and passed
through woods and hills in the second half of the journey. The visitors
started after an early lunch. As the road was little used and heavy for
the horses, they halted half-way for two hours in the open field, and
reached Karatayevka about tea-time. The house was infinitely worse than
Aksinya's: the small dark windows caught the eye at once; the floors
were uneven, riddled with rat-holes, and so dirty as to defy soap and
water. Sofya Nikolayevna felt fear and disgust as she entered this
inhospitable and repulsive dwelling. Alexandra was haughty in her
reception of them; she was profuse in sarcastic apologies of this kind:
"We are glad to see our guests and bid them welcome; my brother, I know,
will not be critical, but I doubt if Sofya Nikolayevna will deign to
enter our poor house after her father's grand mansion at Ufa. Of course
we are poor people, with no official rank; living on our own property,
_we_ have no lucrative salaries to maintain us." But Sofya Nikolayevna
gave as good as she got: she replied that the way people lived depended
as much on their tastes as on their money, and that it was all one to
her where her husband's relations lived and how they lived. When supper
was over, the young couple were shown to their bedroom, which was the
so-called drawing-room. As soon as the candle was out, a great
disturbance began in the room; the pattering and noise increased, and
swarms of rats soon assailed them with such boldness that the poor bride
lay awake all night, shaking with fear and disgust. Alexyei Stepanitch
was forced to light a candle and arm himself with a window-prop for the
defence of the bed, on which the rats kept jumping up as long as it was
dark. He felt neither fear nor disgust; it was no novelty to him; at
first he was rather amused by the ceaseless activity and bold springs of
the repulsive creatures, and then he fell asleep, lying across the bed
and still holding the window-prop. But his wife woke him again and again
and only fell asleep herself at sunrise, when the enemy sought the
concealment of his trenches. She got up with a headache, but her hostess
only laughed at the fright the rats had given her, and added that they
only attacked strangers, and the people of the house were used to them.
Tanyusha was afraid of rats herself; and she and Aksinya could not look
unmoved at the signs of suffering on their sister-in-law's face. They
expressed sympathy with her, and Aksinya even scolded Alexandra for not
taking the ordinary precautions by placing the bed in the centre of the
room, attaching curtains to it, and tucking the ends under the mattress;
but the hostess said with an angry laugh, "It is a pity they did not
bite off her nose." "You had better look out!" said her sister; "if this
gets to our father's ears, you will catch it."
Karatayevka was situated on the slope of a hill, above a little
spring-fed stream which was dammed up at the end of the village and
turned a small mill. The position was not bad, but the owners and all
their ways were so objectionable that the place had no attraction for
any one. M. Karatayeff, who was afraid of Stepan Mihailovitch at Bagrovo
and of his wife at home, would have liked to pay some attentions to
Sofya Nikolayevna when his wife was out of the room; but he only found
courage to ask leave from time to time to kiss her hand, and generally
added that she was the most beautiful creature in the world. When he
repeated his request, it was refused. His was a strange existence. Most
of his summer was spent in visiting wandering Bashkir tribes, and
drinking _koumiss_ every day till he was intoxicated; he spoke the
Bashkir language like a native; he rode on horseback whole days without
dismounting, and had become as bow-legged as a Bashkir; he had their
skill with the bow and could smash an egg at long range with the best of
them. All the rest of the year he spent in a kind of lumber-room warmed
by a stove, near the house-door; he wore a skin coat, and kept the
little window always open even in the hardest frosts; and there he
remained all day with his head stuck out of the window, humming Bashkir
songs and taking a sip now and then of Bashkir mead or some decoction of
herbs. Why Karatayeff looked out of his window over the empty yard with
a rough path running across it, what he saw and noted there, what
thoughts passed through the brain at the top of that big body--these are
problems which no ingenuity can solve. Sometimes, it is true, his
philosophic meditations were disturbed: when some plump woman or girl
appeared from the servants' quarters and walked mincingly along the path
towards the cattle-shed, then a pantomime of nods and signals took place
between the window and the yard; but soon the fair vision turned out of
sight and vanished like a ghost, and Karatayeff was left staring into
empty void.
Sofya Nikolayevna was eager to escape from this horrible place: after an
early dinner, during which the horses were already standing at the door,
they said "good-bye" at once and started. The hostess kissed her
sister-in-law on both cheeks and on the shoulders, and thanked her
significantly for her kind visit; and Sofya Nikolayevna, just as
significantly, thanked the lady for her kind hospitality.
When alone with her husband in the carriage, Sofya Nikolayevna gave vent
to her anger. Aksinya in her simplicity had let out accidentally that
the hostess had purposely taken no precautions against the rats; and the
bride, though she had refrained from an outburst in her enemy's house,
was unable any longer to control her excitable nature. Forgetting that
Alexandra was her husband's sister, and that Parasha was in the carriage
with them, she was lavish in her terms of abuse. Alexyei Stepanitch, a
straightforward and kindly man himself, could not believe that there was
any intention on the part of his sister: attributing what had happened
to mere carelessness, he was hurt by his wife's violent language which
was really inexcusable under any provocation. The young husband was
angry for the first time with his young wife: saying that she should be
ashamed to speak so, he turned from her and was silent. Such was their
state of mind when they arrived at Mertovshchina, where Mme. Myortvavo,
a remarkably intelligent old lady, was then living with her daughter
Katherine who had lately been married to Peter Chichagoff. Sofya
Nikolayevna was warmly attached to both the Chichagoffs. She did not in
the least expect to find them there, and soon forgot all her displeasure
in this agreeable surprise; she became very lively and cheerful, but no
one could fail to notice that Alexyei Stepanitch remained silent and
sad.
Chichagoff's history, and especially his second marriage, is quite a
romance; and I shall tell it as briefly as I can, because we shall often
come across this family in future, and especially because the life of
the young Bagroffs was a good deal influenced by this pair. Peter
Chichagoff was a man of exceptional ability or, I should rather say,
exceptional acuteness, and had received what was for those days an
advanced education in many subjects: he knew several languages, could
draw and understood architecture, and wrote both in prose and verse. In
his hot youth he fell in love at Moscow with a young lady of the
Rimsko-Korsakoff family, and went so far as to misrepresent his
position, in order to win her hand. This was discovered after the
marriage, and he was banished to Ufa. His wife soon died. Within a year
he consoled himself and fell in love with Katherine Myortvavo, who was
attracted by his gay and amiable temper, his intelligence and
acquirements; his face was so very plain that it could exercise no
attraction. She was no longer a girl and had too strong a character to
be controlled by her mother and brothers: they let her marry Chichagoff,
and he was pardoned soon afterwards but not allowed to leave the
Government of Ufa. Sofya Nikolayevna liked him for two reasons: because
he was the husband of her dearest friend, and perhaps still more for his
own cleverness and wide information. Mme. Myortvavo had just settled to
leave Ufa and live in the country, and the Chichagoffs had come on
purpose to help her in building a house and a church. After a week's
experience of her husband's relations, this meeting was a spring in the
desert to Sofya Nikolayevna; it was like a breath of fresh air in which
her heart and quick intelligence expanded; she talked on with her
friends till near midnight. But Alexyei Stepanitch would have sat there
in silence and solitude, had not the old lady grasped the situation and
entertained him by her pleasant talk. After supper, however, he said
"good-night," and went off to the bedroom allotted to the visitors; when
Sofya Nikolayevna came she found him fast asleep. They started for
Bagrovo early next day without disturbing their hosts.
During their drive Alexyei Stepanitch was still sullen and silent. In
reply to direct questions from his wife, his answers were so cold and
short that she gave up speaking to him. Her lively and impatient temper
resented this treatment, but she did not care to clear up matters in
Parasha's presence, preferring to wait till the after-dinner rest when
she would be alone with her husband. For the present she started a
conversation with her maid about their life at Ufa, while Alexyei
Stepanitch squeezed into a corner of the carriage and either fell asleep
or pretended to. They reached Bagrovo two hours before dinner. Stepan
Mihailovitch was obviously pleased to see his daughter-in-law again, and
even said that he had missed her. "My dear," he added; "you really must
not stay here too long, or I shan't be able to let you go; as it is, I
shall miss you, likely enough." He made her give him a minute account of
their expedition. He praised Mme. Myortvavo whom he knew well, and said
that he would send her an invitation next day to come with her daughter
and son-in-law and dine at Bagrovo; he fixed on the following Sunday,
which was four days ahead, for the entertainment. "You must visit the
Kalpinskys and Lupenevskys the day after to-morrow," he said; "and then
you can invite them too for Sunday; and then, three days later, you had
better be off home to Ufa. Your father has never been parted from you
before, and must miss you terribly; and I am sure, my dear, that you are
even more anxious to see him, poor suffering old man!"
Stepan Mihailovitch was not long in finding out that something
disagreeable had happened on this expedition. In the course of
conversation, he said, "Well, were the Karatayeffs glad to see you?" The
answer was of course in the affirmative; but Sofya Nikolayevna happened
to mention that she had been kept awake all night by rats. This
surprised the old man: he had only been there once, long ago, and had
heard nothing of the kind. But here Arina Vassilyevna unsuspiciously
joined in, in spite of the warning signs of her daughter Elizabeth; she
suffered for it afterwards, poor lady, at the hands of her daughters. "O
yes, yes, _batyushka_ Stepan Mihailovitch!" she cried; "the rats there
are perfectly awful! Without bed-curtains, it's impossible to get a wink
of sleep." "Had you no curtains to your bed, then?" asked the old man,
and there was an ominous change in his voice as he spoke. "No," was the
only possible answer. "An excellent hostess!" he said, and looked at his
wife and daughter in such a way that a cold shiver ran down their backs.