“No one rings like that for me,” Velchaninov said in bewilderment.
“But it’s not for me either, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich whispered timidly, having also come to his senses and instantly turned back into the former Pavel Pavlovich. Velchaninov frowned and went to open the door.
“Mr. Velchaninov, if I am not mistaken?” a young, ringing, remarkably self-confident voice was heard in the hall.
“What is it?”
“I have precise information,” the ringing voice went on, “that a certain Trusotsky is presently with you. I absolutely must see him at once.” It would, of course, have been very agreeable to Velchaninov to send this self-confident gentleman down the stairs at once with a good kick. But he reflected, stepped aside, and let him pass.
“Here is Mr. Trusotsky. Come in…”
XIV
SASHENKA AND NADENKA
Into the room came a very young man, of about nineteen, perhaps even somewhat less—so youthful seemed his handsome, confidently upturned face. He was not badly dressed, at least everything sat well on him; he was above medium height; thick black hair broken into locks, and big, bold dark eyes especially marked his physiognomy. Only his nose was a little too broad and upturned; had it not been for that, he would have been an altogether handsome fellow. He entered imposingly.
“I believe I have the—occasion—of speaking with Mr. Trusotsky?” he said measuredly, emphasizing the word “occasion” with particular pleasure, thereby letting it be known that there could be neither honor nor pleasure for him in talking with Mr. Trusotsky.
Velchaninov was beginning to understand; it seemed that Pavel Pavlovich, too, was already seeing some light. His face expressed uneasiness; however, he stood up for himself.
“Not having the honor of knowing you,” he answered with a dignified air, “I suppose that I cannot have any business with you, sir.”
“First you will hear me out, and then express your opinion,” the young man said confidently and didactically, and, taking out a tortoiseshell lorgnette which he had hanging on a string, he began scrutinizing through it the bottle of champagne standing on the table. Having calmly finished his examination of the bottle, he folded the lorgnette and, again addressing Pavel Pavlovich, said:
“Alexander Lobov.”
“And what is this Alexander Lobov, sir?”
“I am he. Haven’t you heard?”
“No, sir.”
“Anyway, how could you know. I’ve come with an important matter, which in fact concerns you; allow me to sit down, however, I’m tired…”
“Sit down,” Velchaninov invited—but the young man had managed to sit down before he was invited. Despite a growing pain in his chest, Velchaninov was intrigued by this impudent boy. In his pretty, childish, and ruddy face he glimpsed some distant resemblance to Nadya.
“You sit down, too,” the youth offered to Pavel Pavlovich, indicating the place opposite him with a casual nod.
“Never mind, sir, I’ll stand.”
“You’ll get tired. I suppose, Mr. Velchaninov, that you may not have to go.”
“I have nowhere to go. I live here.”
“As you will. I confess, I even wish you to be present at my talk with this gentleman. Nadezhda Fedoseevna has recommended you to me quite flatteringly.”
“Hah! When did she have time?”
“Just after you left. I’m coming from there, too. The thing is this, Mr. Trusotsky,” he turned to the standing Pavel Pavlovich, “we, that is, Nadezhda Fedoseevna and I,” he spoke through his teeth, sprawling casually in the armchair, “have long been in love and have pledged ourselves to each other. You are now a hindrance between us; I’ve come to suggest that you vacate that place. Will you be pleased to accept my suggestion?”
Pavel Pavlovich even swayed; he turned pale, but a sarcastic smile at once forced itself to his lips.
“No, sir, not at all pleased,” he snapped laconically.
“Well, now!” the youth turned in the armchair and crossed one leg over the other.
“I don’t even know with whom I am speaking, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich added, “I even think there is no reason for us to continue.”
Having spoken that out, he, too, found it necessary to sit down.
“I told you you’d get tired,” the youth observed casually. “I just had occasion to inform you that my name is Lobov and that Nadezhda Fedoseevna and I have pledged ourselves to each other—consequently, you can’t say, as you just did, that you don’t know whom you are dealing with; nor can you think that we have nothing to continue talking about; not to mention me—the matter concerns Nadezhda Fedoseevna, whom you are so insolently pestering. And that alone already constitutes a sufficient reason for explanations.”
All this he said through his teeth, like a fop, even barely deigning to articulate the words; he even took out the lorgnette again and, while speaking, directed it at something for a moment.
“Excuse me, young man…” Pavel Pavlovich exclaimed vexedly, but the “young man” at once checked him.
“At any other time I would, of course, forbid you to call me ‘young man,’ but now, you must agree, my youth is my chief advantage over you, and you might have wished very much—today, for instance, as you were presenting the bracelet—that you were at least a little bit younger.”
“Ah, you sprat!” Velchaninov whispered.
“In any case, my dear sir,” Pavel Pavlovich corrected himself with dignity, “I still do not find the reasons you have presented—improper and quite dubious reasons—sufficient for the dispute over them to be continued, sir. I see this is all a childish and empty matter; tomorrow I will make inquiries of the most esteemed Fedosei Semyonovich, but now I beg you to spare me, sir.”
“See how the man is!” the youth cried out at once, unable to sustain the tone, hotly addressing Velchaninov. “It’s not enough that he’s chased away from there and they stick their tongues out at him—he also wants to denounce us tomorrow to the old man! Don’t you prove by that, you obstinate man, that you want to take the girl by force, buying her from people who have lost their minds, but, owing to social barbarism, have kept their power over her? She has shown well enough, it seems, that she despises you; wasn’t today’s indecent gift—your bracelet—returned to you? What more do you want?”
“No one returned any bracelet to me, and that cannot be,” Pavel Pavlovich gave a start.
“Cannot be? Didn’t Mr. Velchaninov give it to you?”
“Ah, devil take you!” thought Velchaninov.
“Indeed,” he said, frowning, “Nadezhda Fedoseevna entrusted me earlier with giving this case to you, Pavel Pavlovich. I didn’t want to take it, but she—insisted… here it is… quite annoying…”
He took out the case and, in embarrassment, placed it in front of the petrified Pavel Pavlovich.
“Why hadn’t you given it to him?” the young man sternly addressed Velchaninov.
“I hadn’t found time, one might think,” the latter frowned.
“That’s odd.”
“Wha-a-at?”
“It’s odd, to say the least, you must agree. However, I agree to allow that it was a misunderstanding.”
Velchaninov would have liked terribly to get up right then and box the boy’s ears, but he could not contain himself and suddenly snorted with laughter; the boy at once laughed himself. Not so Pavel Pavlovich; if Velchaninov could have noticed the terrible look he gave him when he burst out laughing at Lobov—he would have understood that at that moment the man was crossing a certain fatal line… But, though he did not see his look, Velchaninov understood that he had to support Pavel Pavlovich.
“Listen, Mr. Lobov,” he began in a friendly tone, “without going into a consideration of other reasons, which I do not wish to touch upon, I would merely like to point out to you that Pavel Pavlovich, after all, in proposing to Nadezhda Fedoseevna, is bringing to this respectable family—first, full information about himself; second, his excellent and respectable p
osition; and finally, his fortune; and, consequently, he is of course surprised to see a rival such as you—a man of great merits, perhaps, but one still so young that he simply cannot take you as a serious rival… and is therefore right in asking you to finish.”
“What do you mean ‘so young’? I turned nineteen a month ago. Legally, I’ve been able to marry for a long time. There you have it.”
“But what father would venture to give his daughter to you now—though you may be a big future millionaire or some sort of future benefactor of mankind? At the age of nineteen a man can’t even answer for his own self, and you venture to take upon your conscience someone else’s future—that is, the future of a child like yourself! That’s also not entirely noble, do you think? I’ve allowed myself to speak out, because you addressed me earlier as a mediator between yourself and Pavel Pavlovich.”
“Ah, yes, incidentally, his name is Pavel Pavlovich!” the youth remarked. “Why did I keep imagining it was Vassily Petrovich? The thing is this, sir,” he turned to Velchaninov, “you haven’t surprised me in the least; I knew you were all the same! Strange, however, that I was told you were even something of a new man. Anyway, it’s all trifles, and the point is that there is nothing here that is not noble on my part, as you allowed yourself to put it, but even quite the contrary, which I hope to explain to you: we have, first of all, pledged ourselves to each other, and, besides that, I promised her directly, in front of two witnesses, that if she ever falls in love with another, or simply thinks better of having married me, and wants to divorce me, I will immediately give her a certificate of my own adultery—thus supporting, therewith, where necessary, her application for divorce. Moreover, in the event I should go back on my word later and refuse to give her this certificate, then, for her security, on the very day of our wedding I will give her a promissory note for a hundred thousand roubles in my name, so that, in the event I persist in refusing the certificate, she can immediately turn in my promissory note and have me double-trumped! In this way everything is provided for, and I’m not putting anyone’s future at risk. Well, sir, that’s the first thing.”
“I bet it was that one—what’s his name—Predposylov who thought it up for you?” cried Velchaninov.
“Hee, hee, hee!” Pavel Pavlovich tittered venomously.
“Why is this gentleman tittering? You’ve guessed right—it’s Predposylov’s thought; and you must agree it’s clever. The absurd law is completely paralyzed. Naturally, I intend to love her always, and she laughs terribly—but even so it’s adroit, and you must agree that it’s noble, that not everyone would venture on such a thing?”
“In my opinion, it is not only not noble, but even vile.”
The young man heaved his shoulders.
“Once again you don’t surprise me,” he observed after some silence, “all this stopped surprising me long ago. Predposylov would snap out directly that this failure of yours to understand the most natural things comes from the perversion of your most ordinary feelings and notions, first, by a long life of absurdity, and second, by long idleness. However, maybe we still don’t understand each other; after all, you were well spoken of to me… You’re already about fifty, though?”
“Get on with your business, please.”
“Excuse the indiscretion and don’t be annoyed; I didn’t mean anything. To continue: I’m not at all a future big millionaire, as you were pleased to put it (and what an idea to come up with!), I’m all here, as you see me, but of my future I’m absolutely certain. I won’t be a hero or anybody’s benefactor, but I’ll provide for myself and my wife. Of course, right now I have nothing, I was even brought up in their house, ever since childhood…”
“How’s that?”
“It’s because I’m the son of a distant relative of this Zakhlebinin’s wife, and when all my people died and left me at the age of eight, the old man took me into his house and then sent me to school. He’s even a kind man, if you wish to know…”
“I know that, sir…”
“Yes, but much too antiquated a head. Kind, though. Now, of course, I’ve long since left his custody, wishing to earn my own living and be owing only to myself.”
“And when did you leave it?” Velchaninov was curious.
“That would be about four months ago.”
“Ah, well, it’s all clear now: friends from childhood! Do you have a job or something?”
“Yes, a private one, in a notary’s office, twenty-five roubles a month. Of course, that’s only for the time being, but when I made my proposal I didn’t even have that. I was working for the railroad then, for ten roubles, but this is all only for the time being.”
“So you even made a proposal?”
“A formal proposal, long ago, three weeks or more.”
“Well, and what then?”
“The old man laughed a lot, but then got very angry, and she was locked upstairs in the attic. But Nadya endured it heroically. Anyway, it was all a failure, because the old man had his back up against me before then for leaving the office job he’d gotten me four months earlier, before the railroad. He’s a nice old man, I repeat again, simple and merry at home, but the moment he’s in the office, you can’t even imagine! It’s some sort of Jupiter sitting there! I naturally let him know that his manners were no longer to my liking, but the main thing here came out because of the assistant section chief: this gentleman decided to peach on me for supposedly ‘being rude’ to him, though I only told him he was undeveloped. I dropped them all and am now with the notary.”
“And were you paid much at the office?”
“Eh, I was a supernumerary! The old man supported me himself—I told you he’s kind; but even so we won’t yield. Of course, twenty-five roubles is no great prosperity, but I soon hope to take part in managing the disordered estates of Count Zavileisky, and then I’ll go straight up to three thousand; or else I’ll become a lawyer. They’re looking for people now… Hah! what thunder, there’ll be a storm, it’s a good thing I managed before the storm; I came from there on foot, running most of the way.”
“But, excuse me, in that case when did you manage to talk with Nadezhda Fedoseevna—if, on top of that, you’re not received there?”
“Ah, but that can be done over the fence! You did notice the little redhead today?” he laughed. “Well, she took care of it, and so did Marya Nikitishna; only this Marya Nikitishna is a serpent!… why did you wince? You’re not afraid of thunder?”
“No, I’m unwell, very unwell…” Velchaninov was indeed suffering from his unexpected pain in the chest, got up from his chair, and tried to pace the room.
“Ah, then naturally I’m bothering you—don’t worry, I’ll leave at once!” and the youth jumped up from his place.
“You’re not bothering me, it’s nothing,” said the delicate Velchaninov.
“How is it nothing, when ‘Kobylnikov has a stomachache’—remember in Shchedrin?14 Do you like Shchedrin?”
“Yes…”
“So do I. Well, Vassily… no, what’s your name, Pavel Pavlovich, let’s finish, sir!” he addressed Pavel Pavlovich, almost laughing. “I’ll formulate the question once more for your understanding: do you agree to renounce tomorrow, officially, in front of the old folks and in my presence, all your claims regarding Nadezhda Fedoseevna?”
“I don’t agree at all, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich also rose with an impatient and embittered look, “and with that I ask you once more to spare me, sir… because all this is childish and silly, sir.”
“Watch out!” the youth shook his finger at him with a haughty smile, “don’t make a mistake in your calculations! Do you know what such a mistake may lead to? And I warn you that in nine months, when you’ve spent everything there, worn yourself out, and come back—you’ll be forced to renounce Nadezhda Fedoseevna here, and if you don’t renounce her—so much the worse for you; that’s what you’ll bring things to! I must warn you that you are now like the dog in the manger—excuse me, it’s just a comparison�
�none for yourself, none for anyone else. I repeat out of humaneness: reflect, force yourself to reflect well for at least once in your life.”
“I beg you to spare me your morals,” Pavel Pavlovich shouted fiercely, “and as for your nasty hints, I’ll take my measures tomorrow—severe measures, sir!”
“Nasty hints? What are you referring to? You’re nasty yourself, if that’s what’s in your head. However, I agree to wait until tomorrow, but if… Ah, again this thunder! Goodbye, very glad to have met you,” he nodded to Velchaninov and ran, evidently hurrying to keep ahead of the thunderstorm and not get caught in the rain.
XV
ACCOUNTS ARE SQUARED
“Did you see? Did you see, sir?” Pavel Pavlovich sprang over to Velchaninov as soon as the youth went out.
“Yes, you have no luck!” Velchaninov let slip inadvertently. He would not have said these words if he were not so tormented and angered by this increasing pain in his chest. Pavel Pavlovich gave a start, as if burnt.
“Well, and you, sir—it must have been from pity for me that you didn’t return the bracelet—ha?”
“I had no chance…”
“From heartfelt pity, as a true friend pities a true friend?”
“Well, yes, I pitied you.” Velchaninov became angry.
He did, nevertheless, tell him briefly how he had gotten the bracelet back earlier and how Nadezhda Fedoseevna had nearly forced him to take part…
“You understand, I wouldn’t have taken it for anything; I have enough troubles without that!”
“You got carried away and took it!” Pavel Pavlovich tittered.
“That’s stupid on your part; however, you must be forgiven. You saw yourself just now that the main one in the matter is not I but others!”
“Even so you got carried away, sir.”
Pavel Pavlovich sat down and filled his glass.
“Do you suppose I’m going to yield to this youngster, sir? I’ll tie him in a knot, that’s what, sir! Tomorrow I’ll go and tie everything up! We’ll smoke this spirit out of the nursery, sir…”
The Eternal Husband and Other Stories Page 22