Part 23 (1/2)

”And this is what I wanted to say to you besides, Fedor Ivanitch,”

continued Marya Dmitrievna, moving slightly nearer up to him, ”if you had seen the modesty of her behaviour, how respectful she is! Really, it is quite touching. And if you had heard how she spoke of you! I have been to blame towards him, she said, altogether; I did not know how to appreciate him, she said; he is an angel, she said, and not a man.

Really, that is what she said--an angel. Her penitence is such... Ah, upon my word, I have never seen such penitence!”

”Well, Marya Dmitrievna,” observed Lavretsky, ”if I may be inquisitive: I am told that Varvara Pavlovna has been singing in your drawing-room; did she sing during the time of her penitence, or how was it?”

”Ah, I wonder you are not ashamed to talk like that! She sang and played the piano only to do me a kindness, because I positively entreated, almost commanded her to do so. I saw that she was sad, so sad; I thought how to distract her mind--and I heard that she had such marvellous talent! I a.s.sure you, Fedor Ivanitch, she is utterly crushed, ask Sergei Petrovitch even; a heart-broken woman, tout a fait: what do you say?”

Lavretsky only shrugged his shoulders.

”And then what a little angel is that Adotchka of yours, what a darling!

How sweet she is, what a clever little thing; how she speaks French; and understand Russian too--she called me 'auntie' in Russian. And you know that as for shyness--almost all children at her age are shy--there's not a trace of it. She's so like you, Fedor Ivanitch, it's amazing. The eyes, the forehead--well, it's you over again, precisely you. I am not particularly fond of little children, I must own; but I simply lost my heart to your little girl.”

”Marya Dmitrievna,” Lavretsky blurted out suddenly, ”allow me to ask you what is your object in talking to me like this?”

”What object?” Marya Dmitrievna sniffed her eau de cologne again, and took a sip of water. ”Why, I am speaking to you, Fedor Ivanitch, because--I am a relation of yours, you know, I take the warmest interest in you--I know your heart is of the best. Listen to me, mon cousin. I am at any rate a woman of experience, and I shall not talk at random: forgive her, forgive your wife.” Marya Dmitrievna's eyes suddenly filled with tears. ”Only think: her youth, her inexperience... and who knows, perhaps, bad example; she had not a mother who could bring her up in the right way. Forgive her, Fedor Ivanitch, she has been punished enough.”

The tears were trickling down Marya Dmitrievna's cheeks: she did not wipe them away, she was fond of weeping. Lavretsky sat as if on thorns.

”Good G.o.d,” he thought, ”what torture, what a day I have had to-day!”

”You make no reply,” Marya Dmitrievna began again. ”How am I to understand you? Can you really be so cruel? No, I will not believe it.

I feel that my words have influenced you, Fedor Ivanitch. G.o.d reward you for your goodness, and now receive your wife from my hands.”

Involuntarily Lavretsky jumped up from his chair; Marya Dmitrievna also rose and running quickly behind a screen, she led forth Varvara Pavlovna. Pale, almost lifeless, with downcast eyes, she seemed to have renounced all thought, all will of her own, and to have surrendered herself completely to Marya Dmitrievna.

Lavretsky stepped back a pace.

”You have been here all the time!” he cried.

”Do not blame her,” explained Marya Dmitrievna; ”she was most unwilling to stay, but I forced her to remain. I put her behind the screen. She a.s.sured me that this would only anger you more; I would not even listen to her; I know you better than she does. Take your wife back from my hands; come, Varya, do not fear, fall at your husband's feet (she gave a pull at her arm) and my blessing”...

”Stop a minute, Marya Dmitrievna,” said Lavretsky in a low but startlingly impressive voice. ”I dare say you are fond of affecting scenes” (Lavretsky was right, Marya Dmitrievna still retained her school-girl's pa.s.sion for a little melodramatic effect), ”they amuse you; but they may be anything but pleasant for other people. But I am not going to talk to you; in this scene you are not the princ.i.p.al character. What do you want to get out of me, madam?” he added, turning to his wife. ”Haven't I done all I could for you? Don't tell me you did not contrive this interview; I shall not believe you--and you know that I cannot possibly believe you. What is it you want? You are clever--you do nothing without an object. You must realise, that as for living with, as I once lived with you, that I cannot do; not because I am angry with you, but because I have become a different man. I told you so the day after your return, and you yourself, at that moment, agreed with me in your! heart. But you want to reinstate yourself in public opinion; it is not enough for you to live in my house, you want to live with me under the same roof--isn't that it?”

”I want your forgiveness,” p.r.o.nounced Varvara Pavlovna, not raising her eyes.

”She wants your forgiveness,” repeated Marya Dmitrievna.

”And not for my own sake, but for Ada's,” murmured Varvara Pavlovna.

”And not for her own sake, but for your Ada's,” repeated Marya Dmitrievna.

”Very good. Is that what you want?” Lavretsky uttered with an effort.

”Certainly, I consent to that too.”

Varvara Pavlovna darted a swift glance at him, but Marya Dmitrievna cried: ”There, G.o.d be thanked!” and again drew Varvara Pavlvona forward by the arm. ”Take her now from my arms--”

”Stop a minute, I tell you,” Lavretsky interrupted her, ”I agree to live with you, Varvara Pavlovna,” he continued, ”that is to say, I will conduct you to Lavriky, and I will live there with you, as long as I can endure it, and then I will go away--and will come back again. You see, I do not want to deceive you; but do not demand anything more. You would laugh yourself if I were to carry out the desire of our respected cousin, were to press you to my breast, and to fall to a.s.suring you that ... that the past had not been; and the felled tree can bud again. But I see, I must submit. You will not understand these words... but that's no matter. I repeat, I will live with you... or no, I cannot promise that... I will be reconciled with you, I will regard you as my wife again.”