The Idiot - The Original Classic Edition. Dostoyevsky Fyodor

Nina Alexandrovna and her daughter were both seated in the drawing-room, engaged in knitting, and talking to a visitor, Ivan Petrovitch Ptitsin.

       The lady of the house appeared to be a woman of about fifty years of age, thin-faced, and with black lines under the eyes. She looked ill and rather sad; but her face was a pleasant one for all that; and from the first word that fell from her lips, any stranger would at once conclude that she was of a serious and particularly sincere nature. In spite of her sorrowful expression, she gave the idea of possessing considerable firmness and decision.

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       Her dress was modest and simple to a degree, dark and elderly in style; but both her face and appearance gave evidence that she had seen better days.

       Varvara was a girl of some twenty-three summers, of middle height, thin, but possessing a face which, without being actually beauti-

       ful, had the rare quality of charm, and might fascinate even to the extent of passionate regard.

       She was very like her mother: she even dressed like her, which proved that she had no taste for smart clothes. The expression of her

       grey eyes was merry and gentle, when it was not, as lately, too full of thought and anxiety. The same decision and firmness was to be observed in her face as in her mother's, but her strength seemed to be more vigorous than that of Nina Alexandrovna. She was subject to outbursts of temper, of which even her brother was a little afraid.

       The present visitor, Ptitsin, was also afraid of her. This was a young fellow of something under thirty, dressed plainly, but neatly. His manners were good, but rather ponderously so. His dark beard bore evidence to the fact that he was not in any government employ. He could speak well, but preferred silence. On the whole he made a decidedly agreeable impression. He was clearly attracted by Varvara, and made no secret of his feelings. She trusted him in a friendly way, but had not shown him any decided encouragement as yet, which fact did not quell his ardour in the least.

       Nina Alexandrovna was very fond of him, and had grown quite confidential with him of late. Ptitsin, as was well known, was engaged in the business of lending out money on good security, and at a good rate of interest. He was a great friend of Gania's.

       After a formal introduction by Gania (who greeted his mother very shortly, took no notice of his sister, and immediately marched Ptitsin out of the room), Nina Alexandrovna addressed a few kind words to the prince and forthwith requested Colia, who had just appeared at the door, to show him to the "middle room."

       Colia was a nice-looking boy. His expression was simple and confiding, and his manners were very polite and engaging.

       "Where's your luggage?" he asked, as he led the prince away to his room. "I had a bundle; it's in the entrance hall."

       "I'll bring it you directly. We only have a cook and one maid, so I have to help as much as I can. Varia looks after things, generally, and loses her temper over it. Gania says you have only just arrived from Switzerland?"

       "Yes."

       "Is it jolly there?" "Very." "Mountains?" "Yes."

       "I'll go and get your bundle." Here Varvara joined them.

       "The maid shall bring your bed-linen directly. Have you a portmanteau?"

       "No; a bundle--your brother has just gone to the hall for it."

       "There's nothing there except this," said Colia, returning at this moment. "Where did you put it?" "Oh! but that's all I have," said the prince, taking it.

       "Ah! I thought perhaps Ferdishenko had taken it."

       "Don't talk nonsense," said Varia, severely. She seemed put out, and was only just polite with the prince.

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       "Oho!" laughed the boy, "you can be nicer than that to ME, you know--I'm not Ptitsin!"

       "You ought to be whipped, Colia, you silly boy. If you want anything" (to the prince) "please apply to the servant. We dine at half-past four. You can take your dinner with us, or have it in your room, just as you please. Come along, Colia, don't disturb the prince."

       At the door they met Gania coming in.

       "Is father in?" he asked. Colia whispered something in his ear and went out.

       "Just a couple of words, prince, if you'll excuse me. Don't blab over THERE about what you may see here, or in this house as to all that about Aglaya and me, you know. Things are not altogether pleasant in this establishment--devil take it all! You'll see. At all events keep your tongue to yourself for TODAY."

       "I assure you I 'blabbed' a great deal less than you seem to suppose," said the prince, with some annoyance. Clearly the relations between Gania and himself were by no means improving.

       "Oh I well; I caught it quite hot enough today, thanks to you. However, I forgive you."

       "I think you might fairly remember that I was not in any way bound, I had no reason to be silent about that portrait. You never asked me not to mention it."

       "Pfu! what a wretched room this is--dark, and the window looking into the yard. Your coming to our house is, in no respect, op-portune. However, it's not MY affair. I don't keep the lodgings."

       Ptitsin here looked in and beckoned to Gania, who hastily left the room, in spite of the fact that he had evidently wished to say something more and had only made the remark about the room to gain time. The prince had hardly had time to wash and tidy himself a little when the door opened once more, and another figure appeared.

       This was a gentleman of about thirty, tall, broadshouldered, and red-haired; his face was red, too, and he possessed a pair of thick lips, a wide nose, small eyes, rather bloodshot, and with an ironical expression in them; as though he were perpetually winking at someone. His whole appearance gave one the idea of impudence; his dress was shabby.

       He opened the door just enough to let his head in. His head remained so placed for a few seconds while he quietly scrutinized the room; the door then opened enough to admit his body; but still he did not enter. He stood on the threshold and examined the prince carefully. At last he gave the door a final shove, entered, approached the prince, took his hand and seated himself and the owner of the room on two chairs side by side.

       "Ferdishenko," he said, gazing intently and inquiringly into the prince's eyes.

       "Very well, what next?" said the latter, almost laughing in his face. "A lodger here," continued the other, staring as before.

       "Do you wish to make acquaintance?" asked the prince.

       "Ah!" said the visitor, passing his fingers through his hair and sighing. He then looked over to the other side of the room and around

       it. "Got any money?" he asked, suddenly. "Not much."

       "How much?" "Twenty-five roubles." "Let's see it."

       The prince took his banknote out and showed it to Ferdishenko. The latter unfolded it and looked at it; then he turned it round and

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       examined the other side; then he held it up to the light.

       "How strange that it should have browned so," he said, reflectively. "These twenty-five rouble notes brown in a most extraordinary

       way, while other notes often grow paler. Take it." The prince took his note. Ferdishenko rose.

       "I came here to warn you," he said. "In the first place, don't lend me any money, for I shall certainly ask you to."

       "Very well."

       "Shall you pay here?" "Yes, I intend to."

       "Oh! I DON'T intend to. Thanks. I live here, next door to you; you noticed a room, did you? Don't come to me very often; I shall

       see you here quite often enough. Have you seen the general?"

       "No."

       "Nor heard him?" "No; of course not."

       "Well, you'll both hear and see him soon; he even tries to borrow money from me. Avis au lecteur. Goodbye; do you think a man can possibly live with a name like Ferdishenko?"

       "Why not?" "Goodbye."