Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: The Plus Food for Minus Meals by Kellogg Company
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 357 lines and 29839 words, and 8 pages
"So, you have seen him? Is he really--all right, well, cheerful?"
"He is cheerful, ma'am; all right, ma'am," returned Gede?novsky, in a whisper.
"And you have not heard where his wife is now?"
"She has recently been in Paris, ma'am; now, I hear, she has removed to the kingdom of Italy."
"It is dreadful, really,--F?dya's position; I do not know how he can endure it. Accidents do happen, with every one, in fact; but he, one may say, has been advertised all over Europe."
Gede?novsky sighed.
"Yes, ma'am; yes, ma'am. Why, she, they say, has struck up acquaintance with artists, and pianists, and, as they call it in their fashion, with lions and wild beasts. She has lost her shame, completely...."
"It is very, very sad,"--said M?rya Dm?trievna:--"on account of the relationship; for you know, Sergy?i Petr?vitch, he's my nephew, once removed."
"Of course, ma'am; of course, ma'am. How could I fail to be aware of everything which relates to your family? Upon my word, ma'am!"
"Will he come to see us,--what do you think?"
"We must assume that he will, ma'am; but I hear, that he is going to his country estate."
M?rya Dm?trievna cast her eyes heavenward.
"Akh, Sergy?i Petr?vitch, when I think of it, how circumspectly we women must behave!"
"There are different sorts of women, M?rya Dm?trievna. Unfortunately, there are some of fickle character ... well, and it's a question of age, also; then, again, the rules have not been inculcated in their childhood." .--"Such women exist, of course," ,--"but, generally speaking, if we take into consideration, that is.... There is an unusual amount of dust in town," he concluded.
M?rya Dm?trievna rose; Sergy?i Petr?vitch also rose and bowed:--"Our most humble salute to El?na Mikha?lovna," he said, and withdrawing into a corner, out of propriety, he began to blow his long and regularly-formed nose.
"What a splendid horse he has!--" went on the little girl.--"He was at the gate just now, and told Liza and me, that he would ride up to the porch."
The trampling of hoofs became audible; and a stately horseman, on a fine brown steed, made his appearance in the street, and halted in front of the open window.
"Good afternoon, M?rya Dm?trievna!"--exclaimed the horseman, in a ringing, agreeable voice.--"How do you like my new purchase?"
M?rya Dm?trievna went to the window.
"From the remount officer.... He asked a high price, the robber!"
"What is its name?"
"Pat him, L?notchka, have no fears...."
The little girl stretched her hand out of the window, but Orlando suddenly reared up, and leaped aside. The rider did not lose control, gripped the horse with his knees, gave him a lash on the neck with his whip, and, despite his opposition, placed him once more in front of the window.
"Pat him, Ly?notchka,"--returned the rider,--"I will not permit him to be wilful."
Again the little girl stretched forth her hand, and timidly touched the quivering nostrils of Orlando, who trembled incessantly and strained at the bit.
"Bravo!"--exclaimed M?rya Dm?trievna,--"and now, dismount, and come in."
The horseman turned his steed round adroitly, gave him the spurs, and after dashing along the street at a brisk gallop, rode into the yard. A minute later, he ran in through the door of the anteroom into the drawing-room, flourishing his whip; at the same moment, on the threshold of another door, a tall, graceful, black-haired girl of nineteen--M?rya Dm?trievna's eldest daughter, Liza--made her appearance.
P?nshin amiably saluted all who were in the room, shook hands with M?rya Dm?trievna and Lizav?ta Mikha?lovna, lightly tapped Gede?novsky on the shoulder, and whirling round on his heels, caught Ly?notchka by the head, and kissed her on the brow.
"And you are not afraid to ride such a vicious horse?"--M?rya Dm?trievna asked him.
"Good gracious! it is a very peaceable beast; but I'll tell you what I am afraid of: I'm afraid to play preference with Sergy?i Petr?vitch; last night, at the Byelen?tzyns', he won my last farthing."
Gede?novsky laughed a shrill and servile laugh: he fawned on the brilliant young official from Petersburg, the pet of the governor. In his conversations with M?rya Dm?trievna, he frequently alluded to P?nshin's remarkable capacities. "For why should not I praise him?" he argued. "The young man is making a success in the highest sphere of life, discharges his service in an exemplary manner, and is not the least bit proud." Moreover, even in Petersburg P?nshin was considered an energetic official: he got through an immense amount of work; he alluded to it jestingly, as is befitting a fashionable man who attaches no particular importance to his labours, but he was "an executor." The higher officials love such subordinates; he never had the slightest doubt himself, that, if he so wished, he could become a Minister in course of time.
"You are pleased to say that I beat you at cards,"--remarked Gede?novsky:--"but who was it that won twelve rubles from me last week? and besides...."
"Villain, villain," P?nshin interrupted him, with a caressing but almost disdainful carelessness, and without paying any further attention to him, he stepped up to Liza.
"Why later on?"--interposed M?rya Dm?trievna:--"Why not now?"
"I obey, ma'am,"--said P?nshin, with a certain bright, sweet smile, which was wont to appear on his face, and suddenly to vanish,--pushed forward a chair with his knee, seated himself at the piano, and after striking several chords, he began to sing, clearly enunciating the words, the following romance:
"Ah! Christof?r Fe?doritch, good afternoon!"--P?nshin was the first of all to exclaim, and sprang hastily from his seat.--"I had no suspicion that you were here,--I could not, on any account, have made up my mind to sing my romance in your presence. I know that you do not care for frivolous music."
"I vas not listening," remarked the newcomer, in imperfect Russian, and having saluted all, he remained awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.
"Have you come, Monsieur Lemm,"--said M?rya Dm?trievna,--"to give a music lesson to Liza?"
"No, not to Lisaf?ta Mikha?lovna, but to El?na Mikha?lovna."
"Ah! Well,--very good. Ly?notchka, go upstairs with Monsieur Lemm."
The old man was on the point of following the little girl, but P?nshin stopped him.
"Do not go away after the lesson, Christof?r Fe?doritch,"--he said:--"Lizav?ta Mikha?lovna and I will play a Beethoven sonata for four hands."
The old man muttered something, but P?nshin went on in German, pronouncing his words badly:
"Lizav?ta Mikha?lovna has shown me the spiritual cantata which you presented to her--'tis a very fine thing! Please do not think that I am incapable of appreciating serious music,--quite the contrary: it is sometimes tiresome, but, on the other hand, it is very beneficial."
The old man crimsoned to his very ears, cast a sidelong glance at Liza, and hastily left the room.
M?rya Dm?trievna requested P?nshin to repeat the romance; but he declared, that he did not wish to wound the ears of the learned German, and proposed to Liza that they should occupy themselves with the Beethoven sonata. Then M?rya Dm?trievna sighed, and in her turn, proposed to Gede?novsky that he should take a stroll in the garden with her.--"I wish,"--she said, "to talk and take counsel with you still further, over our poor F?dya." Gede?novsky grinned, bowed, took up--with two fingers, his hat, and his gloves neatly laid on its brim, and withdrew, in company with M?rya Dm?trievna. P?nshin and Liza were left alone in the room; she fetched the sonata, and opened it; both seated themselves, in silence, at the piano.--From above, the faint sounds of scales, played by Ly?notchka's uncertain little fingers, were wafted to them.
P?nshin struck the opening chords of the sonata loudly, and with decision , but Liza did not begin her part. He stopped, and looked at her. Liza's eyes, fixed straight upon him, expressed displeasure; her lips were not smiling, her whole face was stern, almost sad.
"What is the matter with you?"--he inquired.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page