Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Complete Novels & Stories (Wisehouse Classics). Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Alexandrovna's condition of mind was in reality excited and agitated to a terrible degree. Zina alone terrified her by her tragic look and tearful eyes. And there was another difficulty—for that accursed Mosgliakoff would probably sit about and get in the way of business! One could not well set about it with him in the room!

      So, Maria Alexandrovna rose from the table in some agitation.

      But what was her amazement, her joyful surprise, when Mosgliakoff came up to her after dinner, of his own accord, and suddenly and most unexpectedly informed her that he must—to his infinite regret—leave the house on important business for a short while.

      “Why, where are you going to?” she asked, with great show of regret.

      “Well, you see,” began Mosgliakoff, rather disconcerted and uncomfortable, “I have to—may I come to you for advice?”

      “What is it—what is it?”

      “Why, you see, my godfather Borodueff—you know the man; I met him in the street to-day, and he is dreadfully angry with me, says I am grown so proud, that though I have been in Mordasoff three times I have never shown my nose inside his doors. He asked me to come in for a cup of tea at five—it's four now. He has no children, you know,—and he is worth a million of roubles—more, they say; and if I marry Zina—you see,—and he's seventy years old now!”

      “Why, my good boy, of course, of course!—what are you thinking of? You must not neglect that sort of thing—go at once, of course! I thought you looked preoccupied at dinner. You ought to have gone this morning and shewn him that you cared for him, and so on. Oh, you boys, you boys!” cried Maria Alexandrovna with difficulty concealing her joy.

      “Thanks, thanks, Maria Alexandrovna! you've made a man of me again! I declare I quite feared telling you—for I know you didn't think much of the connection.—He is a common sort of old fellow, I know! So good-bye—my respects to Zina, and apologies—I must be off, of course I shall be back soon!”

      “Good-bye—take my blessing with you; say something polite to the old man for me; I have long changed my opinion of him; I have grown to like the real old Russian style of the man. Au revoir, mon ami, au revoir!”

      “Well, it is a mercy that the devil has carried him off, out of the way!” she reflected, flushing with joy as Paul took his departure out of the room. But Paul had only just reached the hall and was putting on his fur coat when to him appeared—goodness knows whence—the widow, Nastasia Petrovna. She had been waiting for him.

      “Where are you going to?” she asked, holding him by the arm.

      “To my godfather Borodueff's—a rich old fellow; I want him to leave me money. Excuse me—I'm in rather a hurry!”

      Mosgliakoff was in a capital humour!

      “Oh! then say good-bye to your betrothed!” remarked the widow, cuttingly.

      “And why ‘good-bye’?”

      “Why; you think she's yours already, do you? and they are going to marry her to the prince! I heard them say so myself!”

      “To the prince? Oh, come now, Nastasia Petrovna!”

      “Oh, it's not a case of 'come now' at all! Would you like to see and hear it for yourself? Put down your coat, and come along here,—this way!”

      “Excuse me, Nastasia Petrovna, but I don't understand what you are driving at!”

      “Oh! you'll understand fast enough if you just bend down here and listen! The comedy is probably just beginning!”

      “What comedy?”

      “Hush! don't talk so loud! The comedy of humbugging you. This morning, when you went away with the prince, Maria Alexandrovna spent a whole hour talking Zina over into marrying the old man! She told her that nothing was easier than to lure the prince into marrying her; and all sorts of other things that were enough to make one sick! Zina agreed. You should have heard the pretty way in which you were spoken of! They think you simply a fool! Zina said plump out that she would never marry you! Listen now, listen!”

      “Why—why—it would be most godless cunning,” Paul stammered, looking sheepishly into Nastasia's eyes.

      “Well, just you listen—you'll hear that, and more besides!”

      “But how am I to listen?”

      “Here, bend down here. Do you see that keyhole!”

      “Oh! but, Nastasia Petrovna, I can't eavesdrop, you know!”

      “Oh, nonsense, nonsense! Put your pride in your pocket! You've come, and you must listen now!”

      “Well, at all events——”

      “Oh! if you can't bear to be an eavesdropper, let it alone, and be made a fool of! One goes out of one's way solely out of pity for you, and you must needs make difficulties! What is it to me? I'm not doing this for myself! I shall leave the house before night, in any case!”

      Paul, steeling his heart, bent to the keyhole.

      His pulses were raging and throbbing. He did not realise what was going on, or what he was doing, or where he was.

Chapter 8

      “So you were very gay, prince, at Natalia Dimitrievna's?” asked Maria Alexandrovna, surveying the battlefield before her; she was anxious to begin the conversation as innocently as possible; but her heart beat loud with hope and agitation.

      After dinner the Prince had been carried off to the salon, where he was first received in the morning. Maria Alexandrovna prided herself on this room, and always used it on state occasions.

      The old man, after his six glasses of champagne, was not very steady on his legs; but he talked away all the more, for the same reason.

      Surveying the field of battle before the fray, Maria Alexandrovna had observed with satisfaction that the voluptuous old man had already begun to regard Zina with great tenderness, and her maternal heart beat high with joy.

      “Oh! ch—charming—very gay indeed!” replied the prince, “and, do you know, Nat—alia Dimitrievna is a wo—wonderful woman, a ch—charming woman!”

      Howsoever busy with her own high thoughts and exalted ideas, Maria Alexandrovna's heart waxed wrathful to hear such a loud blast of praise on her rival's account.

      “Oh! Prince,” she began, with flashing eyes, “if Natalia Dimitrievna is a charming woman in your eyes, then I really don't know what to think! After such a statement, dear Prince, you must not claim to know society here—no, no!”

      “Really! You sur—pr—prise me!”

      “I assure you—I assure you, mon cher Prince! Listen Zina, I must just tell the prince that absurd story about what Natalia Dimitrievna did when she was here last week. Dearest prince, I am not a scandal-monger, but I must, I really must tell you this, if only to make you laugh, and to show you a living picture, as it were, of what people are like in this place! Well, last week this Natalia Dimitrievna came to call upon me. Coffee was brought in, and I had to leave the room for a moment—I forget why—at all events, I went out. Now, I happened to have remarked how much sugar there was in the silver sugar basin; it was quite full. Well, I came back in a few minutes—looked at the sugar basin, and!——three lumps—three little wretched lumps at the very bottom of the basin, prince!—and she was all alone in the room, mind! Now that woman has a large house of her own, and lots of money! Of course this is merely a funny story—but you can judge from this what sort of people one has to deal with here!”

      “N—no! you don't mean it!” said the prince, in real astonishment. “What a gr—eedy woman! Do you mean to say she ate it all up?”

      “There, prince, and that's your ‘charming woman!’ What do you think of that nice little bit of lady-like conduct? I think I should have died