"Walk in, Your Excellency, you are expected," said the fat porter,
pushing open the swinging, oaken door of the entrance. "They are
dining, but I was told to admit you."
The porter walked to the stairway and rang the bell.
"Are there any guests?" Nekhludoff asked, while taking off his coat.
"Mr. Kolosoff, also Michael Sergeievich, besides the family," answered
the porter.
A fine-looking lackey in dress coat and white gloves looked down from
the top of the stairs.
"Please to walk in, Your Excellency," he said.
Nekhludoff mounted the stairs, and through the spacious and
magnificent parlor he entered the dining-room. Around the table were
seated the entire family, except Princess Sophia Vasilievna, who never
left her own apartments. At the head of the table sat old Korchagin,
on his left the physician; on his right, a visitor, Ivan Ivanovich
Kolosoff, an ex-district commander, and now a bank manager, who was a
friend of the family, and of liberal tendencies; further to the left
was Miss Rader, governess to Missy's four-year-old sister, with the
little girl herself; then to the right, Missy's only brother, Peter, a
high-school pupil, on account of whose forthcoming examinations the
entire family remained in the city, and his tutor, also a student;
then again to the left, Katherine Alexeievna, a forty-year-old girl
Slavophile; opposite to her was Michael Sergeievich, or Misha Telegin,
Missy's cousin, and at the foot of the table, Missy herself, and
beside her, on the table, lay an extra cover.
"Ah, very glad you came! Take a seat! We are still at the fish,"
chewing carefully with his false teeth old Korchagin said, lifting his
bloodshot eyes on Nekhludoff. "Stepan!" he turned with a full mouth to
the fat, majestic servant, pointing with his eyes to Nekhludoff's
plate. Although Nekhludoff had often dined with and knew Korchagin
well, this evening his old face, his sensual, smacking lips, the
napkin stuck under his vest, the fat neck, and especially the
well-fed, military figure made an unpleasant impression on him.
"It is all ready, Your Excellency," said Stepan, taking a soup ladle
from the sideboard and nodding to the fine-looking servant with the
side-whiskers, who immediately began to set the table beside Missy.
Nekhludoff went around the table shaking hands with every one. All,
except Korchagin and the ladies, rose from their seats when he
approached them. And this walking around the table and his
handshaking, although most of the people were comparative strangers to
him, this evening seemed to Nekhludoff particularly unpleasant and
ridiculous. He excused himself for his late coming, and was about to
seat himself at the end of the table between Missy and Katherine
Alexeievna, when old Korchagin demanded that, since he would not take
any brandy, he should first take a bite at the table, on which were
lobster, caviare, cheese and herring. Nekhludoff did not know he was
as hungry as he turned out to be, and when he tasted of some cheese
and bread he could not stop eating, and ate ravenously.
"Well? Have you been undermining the bases of society?" asked
Kolosoff, ironically, using an expression of a retrogressive
newspaper, which was attacking the jury system. "You have acquitted
the guilty and condemned the innocent? Have you?"
"Undermining the bases--undermining the bases"--smilingly repeated the
Prince, who had boundless confidence in the intelligence and honesty
of his liberal comrade and friend.
Nekhludoff, at the risk of being impolite, did not answer Kolosoff,
and, seating himself before the steaming soup, continued to eat.
"Do let him eat," said Missy, smiling. By the pronoun "him," she
meant to call attention to her intimacy with Nekhludoff.
Meanwhile Kolosoff was energetically and loudly discussing the article
against trial by jury which had roused his indignation. Michael
Sergeievich supported his contentions and quoted the contents of
another similar article.
Missy, as usual, was very _distingue_ and unobtrusively well dressed.
She waited until Nekhludoff had swallowed the mouthful he was chewing,
and then said: "You must be very tired and hungry."
"Not particularly. Are you? Have you been to the exhibition?" he
asked.
"No, we postponed it. But we went to play lawn tennis at the
Salamatoff's. Mister Crooks is really a remarkable player."
Nekhludoff had came here for recreation, and it was always pleasant to
him to be in this house, not only because of the elegant luxury, which
acted pleasantly on his senses, but because of the adulating
kindnesses with which they invisibly surrounded him. To-day,
however--it is wonderful to relate--everything in this house disgusted
him; the porter, the broad stairway, the flowers, the lackeys, the
table decorations, and even Missy herself, who, just now, seemed to
him unattractive and unnatural. He was disgusted with that
self-confident, vulgar, liberal tone of Kolosoff, the bull-like,
sensual, figure of old Korchagin, the French phrases of the Slavophile
maiden, the ceremonious faces of the governess and the tutor. But
above all, he was disgusted with the pronoun "him" that Missy had
used. Nekhludoff was always wavering between two different relations
he sustained toward Missy. Sometimes he looked at her as through
blinking eyes or by moonlight, and then she seemed to him beautiful,
fresh, pretty, clever and natural. At other times he looked at her as
if under a bright sun, and then he saw only her defects. To-day was
such a day. He saw the wrinkles on her face; saw the artificial
arrangement of her hair; the pointed elbows, and, above all, her large
thumb nail, resembling that of her father.
"It is the dullest game," Kolosoff said, speaking of tennis,
"baseball, as we played it when we were boys, is much more amusing."
"You have not tried it. It is awfully interesting," retorted Missy,
unnaturally accentuating the word "awfully," as it seemed to
Nekhludoff.
A discussion arose in which Michael Sergeievich and Katherine
Alexeievna took part. Only the governess, the tutor and the children
were silent, evidently from ennui.
"They are eternally disputing!" laughing aloud, said old Korchagin. He
pulled the napkin from his vest, and, noisily pushing back his chair,
which was immediately removed by a servant, rose from the table. They
all rose after him and went to a small table, on which stood figured
bowls filled with perfumed water; then they washed their finger-tips
and rinsed their mouths, and continued their conversation, in which no
one took any interest.
"Is it not true?" Missy said to Nekhludoff, desiring to receive
confirmation of her opinion that man's character can best be learned
in play. She noticed on his thoughtful face an expression of reproach,
which inspired her with fear, and she wished to know the cause of it.
"I really don't know. I never thought of it," answered Nekhludoff.
"Will you go to mamma?" asked Missy.
"Yes, yes," he said, producing a cigarette. The tone of his voice
plainly betrayed that he did not wish to go.
She looked at him inquiringly, but was silent. He felt ashamed. "It is
hardly proper for me to come here to put people out of temper," he
thought, and, in an effort to be pleasant, he said that he would go
with pleasure if the Princess were in a mood to receive him.
"Yes, yes; mamma will be glad. You can smoke there also. And Ivan
Ivanovich is with her."
The mistress of the house, Sophia Vasilievna, was an invalid. For
eight years she had reclined in laces and ribbons, amid velvet,
gilding, ivory, bronzes and flowers. She never drove out, and received
only her "friends," i. e., whoever, according to her view, in any way
distinguished himself from the crowd. Nekhludoff was one of these
friends, not only because he was considered a clever young man, but
also because his mother was a close friend of the family and he was a
desirable match for Missy.
Her room was beyond the small and large drawing-rooms. In the large
drawing-room Missy, who preceded Nekhludoff, suddenly stopped, and
placing her hands on the back of a gilt chair, looked at him.
Missy was very anxious to be married, and Nekhludoff was a desirable
party. Besides, she liked him, and had become accustomed to the
thought that he would belong to her, and not she to him, and, with the
unconscious but persistent craftiness of heart-sick persons, she
gained her end. She addressed him now with the intention of bringing
forth an explanation.
"I see that something has happened to you," she said. "What is the
matter with you?"
The meeting in the court came to his mind, and he frowned and blushed.
"Yes, something has happened," he said, desiring to be truthful. "It
was a strange, extraordinary and important event."
"What was it? Can't you tell me?"
"Not now. Don't press me for an answer. I have not had the time to
think over the matter," he said, blushing still more.
"And you will not tell me?" The muscles on her cheek quivered, and she
pushed away the chair.
"No, I cannot," he answered, feeling that answering her thus he
answered himself--admitted to himself that something very important
had really happened to him.
"Well, then, come!"
She shook her head as if desiring to drive away undesirable thoughts,
and walked forward with a quicker step than usual.
It seemed to him that she unnaturally compressed her lips in order to
suppress her tears. It was painful to him to grieve her, but he knew
that the slightest weakness would ruin him, i. e., bind him. And this
he feared more than anything else to-day, so he silently followed her
to the door of the Princess' apartments.