Veshnie vody. English

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by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev


  In the room we went into, the furniture was a little better, andwas arranged with more taste. Though, indeed, at the moment, I wasscarcely capable of noticing anything; I moved as in a dream and feltall through my being a sort of intense blissfulness that verged onimbecility.

  The young princess sat down, took out a skein of red wool and,motioning me to a seat opposite her, carefully untied the skein andlaid it across my hands. All this she did in silence with a sort ofdroll deliberation and with the same bright sly smile on her slightlyparted lips. She began to wind the wool on a bent card, and all atonce she dazzled me with a glance so brilliant and rapid, that Icould not help dropping my eyes. When her eyes, which were generallyhalf closed, opened to their full extent, her face was completelytransfigured; it was as though it were flooded with light.

  'What did you think of me yesterday, M'sieu Voldemar?' she asked aftera brief pause. 'You thought ill of me, I expect?'

  'I ... princess ... I thought nothing ... how can I?...' I answered inconfusion.

  'Listen,' she rejoined. 'You don't know me yet. I'm a very strangeperson I like always to be told the truth. You, I have just heard,are sixteen, and I am twenty-one: you see I'm a great deal older thanyou, and so you ought always to tell me the truth ... and to do what Itell you,' she added. 'Look at me: why don't you look at me?'

  I was still more abashed; however, I raised my eyes to her. Shesmiled, not her former smile, but a smile of approbation. 'Look atme,' she said, dropping her voice caressingly: 'I don't dislike that... I like your face; I have a presentiment we shall be friends. Butdo you like me?' she added slyly.

  'Princess ...' I was beginning.

  'In the first place, you must call me Zinaida Alexandrovna, and in thesecond place it's a bad habit for children'--(she corrected herself)'for young people--not to say straight out what they feel. That's allvery well for grown-up people. You like me, don't you?'

  Though I was greatly delighted that she talked so freely to me, stillI was a little hurt. I wanted to show her that she had not a mere boyto deal with, and assuming as easy and serious an air as I could, Iobserved, 'Certainly. I like you very much, Zinaida Alexandrovna; Ihave no wish to conceal it.'

  She shook her head very deliberately. 'Have you a tutor?' she askedsuddenly.

  'No; I've not had a tutor for a long, long while.'

  I told a lie; it was not a month since I had parted with my Frenchman.

  'Oh! I see then--you are quite grown-up.'

  She tapped me lightly on the fingers. 'Hold your hands straight!' Andshe applied herself busily to winding the ball.

  I seized the opportunity when she was looking down and fell towatching her, at first stealthily, then more and more boldly. Herface struck me as even more charming than on the previous evening;everything in it was so delicate, clever, and sweet. She was sittingwith her back to a window covered with a white blind, the sunshine,streaming in through the blind, shed a soft light over her fluffygolden curls, her innocent neck, her sloping shoulders, and tenderuntroubled bosom. I gazed at her, and how dear and near she wasalready to me! It seemed to me I had known her a long while and hadnever known anything nor lived at all till I met her.... She waswearing a dark and rather shabby dress and an apron I would gladly, Ifelt, have kissed every fold of that dress and apron. The tips of herlittle shoes peeped out from under her skirt; I could have bowed downin adoration to those shoes.... 'And here I am sitting before her,'I thought; 'I have made acquaintance with her ... what happiness, myGod!' I could hardly keep from jumping up from my chair in ecstasy,but I only swung my legs a little, like a small child who has beengiven sweetmeats.

  I was as happy as a fish in water, and I could have stayed in thatroom for ever, have never left that place.

  Her eyelids were slowly lifted, and once more her clear eyes shonekindly upon me, and again she smiled.

  'How you look at me!' she said slowly, and she held up a threateningfinger.

  I blushed ... 'She understands it all, she sees all,' flashed throughmy mind. 'And how could she fail to understand and see it all?'

  All at once there was a sound in the next room--the clink of a sabre.

  'Zina!' screamed the princess in the drawing-room, 'Byelovzorov hasbrought you a kitten.'

  'A kitten!' cried Zinaida, and getting up from her chair impetuously,she flung the ball of worsted on my knees and ran away.

  I too got up and, laying the skein and the ball of wool on thewindow-sill, I went into the drawing-room and stood still, hesitating.In the middle of the room, a tabby kitten was lying with outstretchedpaws; Zinaida was on her knees before it, cautiously lifting up itslittle face. Near the old princess, and filling up almost the wholespace between the two windows, was a flaxen curly-headed young man, ahussar, with a rosy face and prominent eyes.

  'What a funny little thing!' Zinaida was saying; 'and its eyes are notgrey, but green, and what long ears! Thank you, Viktor Yegoritch! youare very kind.'

  The hussar, in whom I recognised one of the young men I had seen theevening before, smiled and bowed with a clink of his spurs and ajingle of the chain of his sabre.

  'You were pleased to say yesterday that you wished to possess a tabbykitten with long ears ... so I obtained it. Your word is law.' And hebowed again.

  The kitten gave a feeble mew and began sniffing the ground.

  'It's hungry!' cried Zinaida. 'Vonifaty, Sonia! bring some milk.'

  A maid, in an old yellow gown with a faded kerchief at her neck, camein with a saucer of milk and set it before the kitten. The kittenstarted, blinked, and began lapping.

  'What a pink little tongue it has!' remarked Zinaida, putting her headalmost on the ground and peeping at it sideways under its very nose.

  The kitten having had enough began to purr and move its pawsaffectedly. Zinaida got up, and turning to the maid said carelessly,'Take it away.'

  'For the kitten--your little hand,' said the hussar, with a simper anda shrug of his strongly-built frame, which was tightly buttoned up ina new uniform.

  'Both,' replied Zinaida, and she held out her hands to him. While hewas kissing them, she looked at me over his shoulder.

  I stood stockstill in the same place and did not know whether tolaugh, to say something, or to be silent. Suddenly through the opendoor into the passage I caught sight of our footman, Fyodor. He wasmaking signs to me. Mechanically I went out to him.

  'What do you want?' I asked.

  'Your mamma has sent for you,' he said in a whisper. 'She is angrythat you have not come back with the answer.'

  'Why, have I been here long?'

  'Over an hour.'

  'Over an hour!' I repeated unconsciously, and going back to thedrawing-room I began to make bows and scrape with my heels.

  'Where are you off to?' the young princess asked, glancing at me frombehind the hussar.

  'I must go home. So I am to say,' I added, addressing the old lady,'that you will come to us about two.'

  'Do you say so, my good sir.'

  The princess hurriedly pulled out her snuff-box and took snuff soloudly that I positively jumped. 'Do you say so,' she repeated,blinking tearfully and sneezing.

  I bowed once more, turned, and went out of the room with thatsensation of awkwardness in my spine which a very young man feels whenhe knows he is being looked at from behind.

  'Mind you come and see us again, M'sieu Voldemar,' Zinaida called, andshe laughed again.

  'Why is it she's always laughing?' I thought, as I went back homeescorted by Fyodor, who said nothing to me, but walked behind me withan air of disapprobation. My mother scolded me and wondered what everI could have been doing so long at the princess's. I made her no replyand went off to my own room. I felt suddenly very sad.... I tried hardnot to cry.... I was jealous of the hussar.

  V

  The princess called on my mother as she had promised and made adisagreeable impression on her. I was not present at their interview,but at table my mother told my father that this Prince Zasyekin struckher as
a _femme tres vulgaire_, that she had quite worn her outbegging her to interest Prince Sergei in their behalf, that she seemedto have no end of lawsuits and affairs on hand--_de vilaines affairesd'argent_--and must be a very troublesome and litigious person. Mymother added, however, that she had asked her and her daughter todinner the next day (hearing the word 'daughter' I buried my nose inmy plate), for after all she was a neighbour and a person of title.Upon this my father informed my mother that he remembered now who thislady was; that he had in his youth known the deceased Prince Zasyekin,a very well-bred, but frivolous and absurd person that he had beennicknamed in society '_le Parisien_,' from having lived a long whilein Paris; that he had been very rich, but had gambled away all hisproperty; and for some unknown reason, probably for money, thoughindeed he might have chosen better, if so, my father added with a coldsmile, he had married the daughter of an agent, and after his marriagehad entered upon speculations and ruined himself utterly.

  'If only she doesn't try to borrow money,' observed my mother.

  'That's exceedingly possible,' my father responded tranquilly. 'Doesshe speak French?'

  'Very badly.'

  'H'm. It's of no consequence anyway. I think you said you had askedthe daughter too; some one was telling me she was a very charming andcultivated girl.'

  'Ah! Then she can't take after her mother.'

  'Nor her father either,' rejoined my father. 'He was cultivatedindeed, but a fool.'

  My mother sighed and sank into thought. My father said no more. I feltvery uncomfortable during this conversation.

  After dinner I went into the garden, but without my gun. I sworeto myself that I would not go near the Zasyekins' garden, but anirresistible force drew me thither, and not in vain. I had hardlyreached the fence when I caught sight of Zinaida. This time she wasalone. She held a book in her hands, and was coming slowly along thepath. She did not notice me.

  I almost let her pass by; but all at once I changed my mind andcoughed.

  She turned round, but did not stop, pushed back with one hand thebroad blue ribbon of her round straw hat, looked at me, smiled slowly,and again bent her eyes on the book.

  I took off my cap, and after hesitating a moment, walked away with aheavy heart. '_Que suis-je pour elle?_' I thought (God knows why) inFrench.

  Familiar footsteps sounded behind me; I looked round, my father cameup to me with his light, rapid walk.

  'Is that the young princess?' he asked me.

  'Yes.'

  'Why, do you know her?'

  'I saw her this morning at the princess's.'

  My father stopped, and, turning sharply on his heel, went back. Whenhe was on a level with Zinaida, he made her a courteous bow. She,too, bowed to him, with some astonishment on her face, and droppedher book. I saw how she looked after him. My father was alwaysirreproachably dressed, simple and in a style of his own; but hisfigure had never struck me as more graceful, never had his grey hatsat more becomingly on his curls, which were scarcely perceptiblythinner than they had once been.

  I bent my steps toward Zinaida, but she did not even glance at me; shepicked up her book again and went away.

  VI

  The whole evening and the following day I spent in a sort of dejectedapathy. I remember I tried to work and took up Keidanov, but theboldly printed lines and pages of the famous text-book passed beforemy eyes in vain. I read ten times over the words: 'Julius Caesar wasdistinguished by warlike courage.' I did not understand anything andthrew the book aside. Before dinner-time I pomaded myself once more,and once more put on my tail-coat and necktie.

  'What's that for?' my mother demanded. 'You're not a student yet, andGod knows whether you'll get through the examination. And you've notlong had a new jacket! You can't throw it away!'

  'There will be visitors,' I murmured almost in despair.

  'What nonsense! fine visitors indeed!'

  I had to submit. I changed my tail-coat for my jacket, but I didnot take off the necktie. The princess and her daughter made theirappearance half an hour before dinner-time; the old lady had put on,in addition to the green dress with which I was already acquainted,a yellow shawl, and an old-fashioned cap adorned with flame-colouredribbons. She began talking at once about her money difficulties,sighing, complaining of her poverty, and imploring assistance, butshe made herself at home; she took snuff as noisily, and fidgeted andlolled about in her chair as freely as ever. It never seemed to havestruck her that she was a princess. Zinaida on the other hand wasrigid, almost haughty in her demeanour, every inch a princess. Therewas a cold immobility and dignity in her face. I should not haverecognised it; I should not have known her smiles, her glances, thoughI thought her exquisite in this new aspect too. She wore a lightbarege dress with pale blue flowers on it; her hair fell in long curlsdown her cheek in the English fashion this style went well with thecold expression of her face. My father sat beside her during dinner,and entertained his neighbour with the finished and serene courtesypeculiar to him. He glanced at her from time to time, and she glancedat him, but so strangely, almost with hostility. Their conversationwas carried on in French; I was surprised, I remember, at the purityof Zinaida's accent. The princess, while we were at table, as beforemade no ceremony; she ate a great deal, and praised the dishes. Mymother was obviously bored by her, and answered her with a sort ofweary indifference; my father faintly frowned now and then. My motherdid not like Zinaida either. 'A conceited minx,' she said next day.'And fancy, what she has to be conceited about, _avec sa mine degrisette_!'

  'It's clear you have never seen any grisettes,' my father observed toher.

  'Thank God, I haven't!'

  'Thank God, to be sure ... only how can you form an opinion of them,then?'

  To me Zinaida had paid no attention whatever. Soon after dinner theprincess got up to go.

  'I shall rely on your kind offices, Maria Nikolaevna and PiotrVassilitch,' she said in a doleful sing-song to my mother and father.'I've no help for it! There were days, but they are over. Here I am,an excellency, and a poor honour it is with nothing to eat!'

  My father made her a respectful bow and escorted her to the door ofthe hall. I was standing there in my short jacket, staring at thefloor, like a man under sentence of death. Zinaida's treatment of mehad crushed me utterly. What was my astonishment, when, as she passedme, she whispered quickly with her former kind expression in her eyes:'Come to see us at eight, do you hear, be sure....' I simply threw upmy hands, but already she was gone, flinging a white scarf over herhead.

  VII

  At eight o'clock precisely, in my tail-coat and with my hair brushedup into a tuft on my head, I entered the passage of the lodge, wherethe princess lived. The old servant looked crossly at me and got upunwillingly from his bench. There was a sound of merry voices inthe drawing-room. I opened the door and fell back in amazement. Inthe middle of the room was the young princess, standing on a chair,holding a man's hat in front of her; round the chair crowded some halfa dozen men. They were trying to put their hands into the hat, whileshe held it above their heads, shaking it violently. On seeing me,she cried, 'Stay, stay, another guest, he must have a ticket too,'and leaping lightly down from the chair she took me by the cuff of mycoat 'Come along,' she said, 'why are you standing still? _Messieurs_,let me make you acquainted: this is M'sieu Voldemar, the son of ourneighbour. And this,' she went on, addressing me, and indicating herguests in turn, 'Count Malevsky, Doctor Lushin, Meidanov the poet, theretired captain Nirmatsky, and Byelovzorov the hussar, whom you'veseen already. I hope you will be good friends.' I was so confused thatI did not even bow to any one; in Doctor Lushin I recognised the darkman who had so mercilessly put me to shame in the garden; the otherswere unknown to me.

  'Count!' continued Zinaida, 'write M'sieu Voldemar a ticket.'

  'That's not fair,' was objected in a slight Polish accent by thecount, a very handsome and fashionably dressed brunette, withexpressive brown eyes, a thin little white nose, and delicate littlemoustaches over a tiny mouth. 'This
gentleman has not been playingforfeits with us.'

  'It's unfair,' repeated in chorus Byelovzorov and the gentlemandescribed as a retired captain, a man of forty, pock-marked toa hideous degree, curly-headed as a negro, round-shouldered,bandy-legged, and dressed in a military coat without epaulets, wornunbuttoned.

  'Write him a ticket, I tell you,' repeated the young princess. 'What'sthis mutiny? M'sieu Voldemar is with us for the first time, and thereare no rules for him yet. It's no use grumbling--write it, I wish it.'

  The count shrugged his shoulders but bowed submissively, took the penin his white, ring-bedecked fingers, tore off a scrap of paper andwrote on it.

  'At least let us explain to Mr. Voldemar what we are about,' Lushinbegan in a sarcastic voice, 'or else he will be quite lost. Do yousee, young man, we are playing forfeits? the princess has to pay aforfeit, and the one who draws the lucky lot is to have the privilegeof kissing her hand. Do you understand what I've told you?'

  I simply stared at him, and continued to stand still in bewilderment,while the young princess jumped up on the chair again, and again beganwaving the hat. They all stretched up to her, and I went after therest.

  'Meidanov,' said the princess to a tall young man with a thin face,little dim-sighted eyes, and exceedingly long black hair, 'you asa poet ought to be magnanimous, and give up your number to M'sieuVoldemar so that he may have two chances instead of one.'

  But Meidanov shook his head in refusal, and tossed his hair. Afterall the others I put my hand into the hat, and unfolded my lot....Heavens! what was my condition when I saw on it the word, Kiss!

 

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