"Well, Praskovya, thank God we're among our own here," she spoke at last, with ominous calm, "you've said a great deal that wasn't necessary."
"And I, my dear, am not so afraid of the world's opinion as some are; it's you who, under the guise of pride, are trembling before the world's opinion. And if there are only our own people here, it's so much the better for you than if strangers heard it."
"Have you grown smarter this week, or what?"
"I haven't grown smarter this week, it must be that the truth came out this week."
"What truth came out this week? Listen, Praskovya Ivanovna, don't vex me, explain this very minute, I ask you honestly: what truth came out, what do you mean by that?"
"But here it is, the whole truth, sitting right here!" Praskovya Ivanovna suddenly pointed her finger at Marya Timofeevna, with that desperate resolution which no longer considers the consequences but seeks only to strike at once. Marya Timofeevna, who had been looking at her all the while with gay curiosity, laughed joyfully at the sight of the wrathful guest's finger directed at her, and gaily fidgeted in her chair.
"Lord Jesus Christ, have they all lost their minds, or what!" Varvara Petrovna exclaimed and, turning pale, threw herself against the back of her chair.
She grew so pale that it even caused a commotion. Stepan Trofimovich was the first to rush to her; I also approached; even Liza rose from her place, though she remained standing by her chair; but it was Praskovya Ivanovna herself who was most frightened: she gave a cry, raised herself as much as she could, and almost wailed in a tearful voice:
"Varvara Petrovna, dearest, forgive me my spiteful foolishness! But, at least give her some water, someone!"
"Don't blubber, Praskovya Ivanovna, I beg you, please, and do move back, gentlemen, be so kind, there's no need for water!" Varvara Petrovna pronounced firmly, though softly, with her pale lips.
"Dearest!" Praskovya Ivanovna went on, calming down a little, "Varvara Petrovna, my friend, perhaps I am guilty of imprudent words, but, really, I'm so vexed, by these nameless letters most of all, which some paltry people are bombarding me with; I don't know why they don't write to you, since it's you they're writing about, and I, dearest, have a daughter!"
Varvara Petrovna silently gazed at her with wide-open eyes and listened in astonishment. At that moment a side door in the corner opened inaudibly and Darya Pavlovna appeared. She stopped and looked around; she was struck by our commotion. She must not immediately have noticed Marya Timofeevna, of whom no one had warned her. Stepan Trofimovich caught sight of her first, made a quick movement, blushed, and for some reason loudly announced: "Darya Pavlovna!" so that all eyes immediately turned to her.
"So, this is your Darya Pavlovna!" exclaimed Marya Timofeevna. "Why, Shatushka, your sister doesn't resemble you at all! How is it my man calls such loveliness the serf wench Dashka!"
Darya Pavlovna meanwhile had already gone up to Varvara Petrovna; but, struck by Marya Timofeevna's exclamation, she quickly turned around and remained thus in front of her chair, staring at the blessed fool with a long, riveted look.
"Sit down, Dasha," Varvara Petrovna said with horrifying calm, "Closer, like so; you can see the woman as well sitting down. Do you know her?"
"I've never seen her," Dasha replied softly and, after a pause, added at once: "She must be the ailing sister of one Mr. Lebyadkin."
"And I, my soul, am only now seeing you for the first time, though I've long wished curiously to make your acquaintance, for I can see good breeding in your every gesture," Marya Timofeevna cried enthusiastically. "And that lackey of mine goes around swearing, but can it be that you took his money, and you so well bred and so nice? For you are nice, nice, nice, it's I who tell you so!" she concluded rapturously, waving her hand in front of her.
"Do you understand any of that?" Varvara Petrovna asked with proud dignity.
"I understand all of it, ma'am..."
"Did you hear about the money?"
"It must be the money that I undertook, while I was in Switzerland, to bring to Mr. Lebyadkin, her brother, at the request of Nikolai Vsevolodovich."
Silence ensued.
"Did Nikolai Vsevolodovich himself ask you to bring it?"
"He wanted very much to send this money, just three hundred roubles, to Mr. Lebyadkin. And since he didn't know his address, but only knew that he would be coming to our town, he charged me to give it to Mr. Lebyadkin in case he should come."
"And what money is... missing? What was this woman saying just now?"
"That I really don't know, ma'am; it has also reached me that Mr. Lebyadkin is saying aloud of me that I supposedly did not give him all of it, but I don't understand these words. There were three hundred roubles, and I gave him three hundred roubles."
Darya Pavlovna was now almost completely calm. And I will note that generally it was difficult to astonish this girl or to perplex her for long with anything—whatever she might feel inside herself. She now gave all her answers unhurriedly, responding to each question promptly and with precision, quietly, evenly, with no trace of her first sudden agitation, and with no embarrassment such as might betray the awareness of any guilt in herself. Varvara Petrovna did not tear her eyes from her all the while she was speaking. For a moment, Varvara Petrovna pondered.
"If," she finally said firmly, and evidently for the spectators, though she looked only at Dasha, "if Nikolai Vsevolodovich did not turn even to me with this charge, but asked you, he of course had his own reasons for doing so. I do not think I have any right to be curious about it, if it has been kept secret from me. But the fact alone of your participation in this affair sets me completely at ease about it all, that you should know, Darya, first of all. But you see, my friend, even with a pure conscience you might commit some imprudence, not knowing the world; and this you did, by agreeing to have dealings with some scoundrel. The rumors this blackguard has spread confirm your error. But I shall make inquiries about him and, being your protectress, I shall know how to intercede for you. And now all this must be ended."
"Best of all, when he comes to you," Marya Timofeevna suddenly joined in, leaning forward in her armchair, "send him to the lackeys' room. Let him sit there and play his trumps with them on a bench, and we'll sit here and have coffee. A cup of coffee might be sent to him, too, but I deeply despise him."
And she shook her head emphatically.
"This must be ended," Varvara Petrovna repeated, having carefully heard out Marya Timofeevna. "Ring, please, Stepan Trofimovich."
Stepan Trofimovich rang, and then suddenly stepped forward, all excited.
"If... if I..." he babbled hotly, blushing, faltering, and stammering, "if I, too, have heard a most repulsive account, or, better to say, slander, then ... in perfect indignation... enfin, c 'est un homme perdu et quelque chose comme un forçat évadé..."[lxxiii]
He broke off and did not finish; Varvara Petrovna, narrowing her eyes, looked him up and down. The decorous Alexei Yegorovich came in.
"The carriage," Varvara Petrovna ordered, "and you, Alexei Yegorych, get ready to take Miss Lebyadkin home, wherever she tells you."
"Mr. Lebyadkin himself has been waiting downstairs for some time, ma'am, and wishes very much to be announced."
"That is impossible, Varvara Petrovna," Mavriky Nikolaevich, who had been imperturbably silent all the while, suddenly stepped forward in alarm. "If you will allow me, this is not the sort of man who can enter society, this... this... this is an impossible man, Varvara Petrovna."
"Hold off," Varvara Petrovna turned to Alexei Yegorych, and he disappeared.
"C'est un homme malhonnête et je crois même que c'est un forçat évadé ou quelque chose dans ce genre, "[lxxiv] Stepan Trofimovich again muttered, again blushed, and again broke off.