The Boyar Demidof, though not by profession a diplomat, had procured
for himself an appointment as Attaché to the Embassy in Paris, in order
to be near his daughter as well as his married sister. Vera's presence
in St. Petersburg was in the nature of a flying visit. She would return
with her mother to Paris in a month or two.
During that period she saw little of Sasha Maximof. He called upon the
Demidofs once or twice, but was obviously but little attracted by Vera,
whom he treated as a child, and from whom he did not attempt to conceal
the fact that he had on hand more than one _affaire de coeur_ and
that he thought but little, if anything, of the contract entered into
by their respective fathers when both of the principal parties were too
young to understand the nature of the proceedings.
Vera began by treating Sasha with much hauteur, desiring to punish him
for his indifference; but when it became clear to her that he cared
nothing whether she bore herself haughtily or kindly, and was, indeed,
very little interested in her, she began, with the inconsistency of
human nature, to realise that whether she would have it so or no her
interest in him grew, and with it the recognition that the young man was
undoubtedly very good-looking and had a certain attractiveness about
him. Before Vera returned to Paris Sasha Maximof had quite made up his
mind that he was far too good to waste himself upon the commonplace
little person his father had seen fit, without consulting his wishes,
to select for his partner in life. He intended to do much better. The
Countess, his mother, was inclined to agree with him. He consulted her
upon the question as to whether a contract of marriage so made was
binding or not.
"If both parties desire to annul it," the Countess thought, "surely no
one would compel them to hold to it."
"The question is," said Sasha, "_will_ the girl agree to annul it? The
match is a good one, from her point of view; I don't suppose there's
much harm done yet, in a personal way, I mean, for we have scarcely met
and I certainly have not gone out of my way to be in any way attractive
to her."
"Go and see the girl and talk it over with her," suggested the Countess,
and this advice Sasha presently followed.
He called upon Vera and plunged quickly into the business on hand,
though he began somewhat diffidently, for, though in speaking with
his mother he had taken for granted that the girl could scarcely have
fallen in love with him yet, Sasha, in the secret realms of his inner
consciousness, was by no means so assured of the matter; indeed, he
was strongly of opinion that no girl could see him and pass entirely
unscathed through the ordeal.
Somewhat to his disgust he could detect no sign of regret or
disappointment in Vera's attitude; on the contrary, he was not at all
sure that she was not as anxious as himself to be relieved from the
foolish obligation imposed upon both of them as children.
"I never could understand what was the object of our honoured fathers in
making so foolish an arrangement," said Sasha; "my idea is that living
down in the wilds as they did, they were so put to it for amusement that
they invented this as a pastime; it would be interesting, they thought,
to watch our affection bud and blossom and so on; but of course, as
you know, my father died and neither my mother nor I ever lived in
the country again, while you went to Paris. Of course if we had met
constantly, living close to one another, and never seeing any one else,
it might have been different."
Vera suddenly burst out laughing at this point.
"You mean that if neither of us had ever met any other young people
besides our two selves we might one day have come to like one another?
Believe me, Alexander Petrovitch, I am far from being so conceited as to
suppose you could ever have learned to admire me. Is this, then, your
theory: that if, for instance, a man and a woman were thrown together
upon a desert island, they would be bound eventually to fall in love
with one another? On the contrary, I should think they would soon be
wearied to death by one another's society."
"I did not mean that at all," said Sasha, flushing rather angrily,
for it occurred to him that his _amour propre_ was in some way being
attacked. "I meant that if we had seen more of one another than we have,
it might have been quite a different matter. You might have liked me,
which I see is not now the case, and of course I might have fallen in
love with you."
"Which also is certainly not the case as any one might perceive,"
laughed Vera.
"I am not pretending that it is; I could not very well."
"For after all I am a mere child," she said.
"I see you cannot forgive me that expression. Why should it offend you?
You are not fully grown up. However, I apologise for using it if you
dislike it. Well now, I think I have made my meaning clear; I do not
love you--indeed, I may tell you that I have fallen in love elsewhere,
for which you can scarcely blame me, since you have never given me the
opportunity to lose my heart where our revered parents desired that it
should be lost; and of course the same may be said of you; you have had
no opportunity of learning to like me."
"For which I certainly ought to be most grateful," said Vera, "under
the circumstances. How terrible if one of us had fallen in love and
the other not! If it had been I, I must have sacrificed my heart's
happiness, for of course I could not well have admitted the pathetic
truth. You would have gone away and never known!"
"Well, at any rate, we are fortunately quite agreed upon the subject,"
replied Sasha, who was not enjoying the conversation and wished it
over. "And since we _are_ agreed that the betrothal was a mistake and
that we shall both be happier if we annul the agreement and go upon
our respective ways in life in pursuit of our respective ideals of
happiness, I now suggest to you that the foolish document be torn up."
"By all means," said Vera; "tear it up, if you have it."
"Yes, I have it. I am sorry, Vera, that things should have turned out as
they have; neither of us is to blame. As I said before, if we had seen
more of one another----"
"It would have been an exceedingly dangerous thing for _me_, is that
what you would imply?" asked Vera, laughing.
The girl looked so handsome as she said the words, her eyes aflame and
a heightened colour lending a wonderful charm to her somewhat pallid
Russian complexion, that Sasha stared for a moment in surprise before he
answered.
"It might have been dangerous for either of us," he said; "for though
you _are_ only a child, you are a very pretty one."
Vera curtsied pertly and laughed. "In every way the document is a
horribly dangerous thing then," she said; "destroy it by all means,
Alexander Petrovitch. You will now have a free hand with the lady whose
name you have not mentioned. How relieved she will be to hear that I
have given you a certificate of discharge."
"As to that," replied Sasha, flushing, "every one who knows of our
betrothal laughs at it. Two persons thus bound, they say, would be sure
to loathe one another long before the time came to marry, simply because
they _are_ bound."
"But we agreed just now that if we had seen more of one another, each
would probably have found the other irresistible," Vera laughed; "let
us hold to this pleasant conclusion, it is more flattering to both of
us than the other. We will leave it at this, that I might have stood
well in your regard, one day, but for the fact that another lady stands
better, having supplanted me in time. As for yourself, except for my
good fortune in being a mere child, I must, of course, have lost my
heart at first sight, this, I understand, being the usual fate of my
sex."
"You are pleased to jest, Mademoiselle Vera," said Sasha, uncertain
whether to feel elated or angry. "It is time I departed; until the
contract is destroyed we are still betrothed; may I kiss your hand?"
"The betrothal ended at the moment of mutual agreement. Farewell,
Alexander Petrovitch, and a happy ending to your courtship."
"That girl will grow up into a lovely woman," thought Sasha as he strode
away; "but what a little tigress she looked more than once. She is angry
with me for wishing to annul the contract."
"I don't see why it should be actually destroyed," he reflected later,
fingering the document. "Why not keep it in case of accidents? A year
or two hence I may be heart free, and she may be uncommonly handsome--I
think the paper may remain for the present."
He put it back in his desk and sat thinking.
"The little devil was laughing at me all along," he said presently; "it
was pique, simply pique. She'll be a pretty woman, that's certain!"
As for Vera, she felt forlorn and unhappy. She was not in the least in
love, but for better or worse she had been accustomed lifelong to look
upon this man as her husband-to-be, and now the air-castle had fallen in
ruins. There was a sudden gap, an empty space in her life, and she felt
lonely and deserted.
She actually cried over the matter and this did her a world of good.
"He's certainly good-looking," was the conclusion she now arrived at;
"but, as Constantine said, his vanity is terrible. I don't think I could
have borne it!"