“No, naturally, I don’t mean that… but as far as I could tell, having been there…”
“They remember, they remember, sir, that you were,” Pavel Pavlovich picked up joyfully, “only you couldn’t see the family then, sir; and he remembers and respects you. I spoke about you deferentially with them.”
“But how can it be, if you’ve been a widower for only three months?” 10
“Oh, the wedding’s not right now, sir; the wedding’s in nine or ten months, so that exactly a year of mourning will have gone by, sir. Believe me, it’s all just fine, sir. First of all, Fedosei Petrovich has known me even since my youngest years, he knew my late spouse, how I lived, and what my reputation is, sir, and, finally, I have a fortune, and here also I’ve now obtained a post and a promotion—so all this carries weight, sir.”
“It’s his daughter, then?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in detail, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich hunched himself up pleasantly, “allow me to light a cigarette. Besides, you’ll see for yourself today. First of all, such men of affairs as Fedosei Petrovich are sometimes highly valued in the service here in Petersburg, if they manage to attract attention, sir. But apart from the salary and the rest—supplements, premiums, emoluments, dinner allowances, or else one-time bonuses, sir—there’s nothing, that is, nothing substantial, sir, that would constitute a capital. They live well, but it’s impossible to save, what with the family, sir. Consider for yourself: Fedosei Petrovich has eight girls, and only one little son. If he were to die now—all that’s left is a skimpy pension, sir. And there are eight girls—no, consider, just consider, sir: if it’s a pair of shoes for each of them, that already comes to something! Of the eight girls, five are already marriageable, sir, 11the eldest is twenty-four—(the loveliest girl, you’ll see for yourself, sir!), and the sixth one is fifteen, she’s still in school. For the five older girls suitors must be found, which ought if possible to be done well ahead of time, so the father has to take them out, sir—and what is the cost of that, may I ask, sir? And suddenly I appear, the first suitor in their home, sir, and known to them beforehand, that is, in the sense that I do actually have a fortune. Well, there you have it, sir.”
Pavel Pavlovich explained with rapture.
“You proposed to the oldest one?”
“N-no, I… not to the oldest one; I proposed to the sixth one, the one that’s still studying in school.”
“What?” Velchaninov grinned inadvertently. “But you say she’s fifteen years old!”
“Fifteen now, sir; but in nine months she’ll be sixteen, sixteen years and three months, sir, so why not? And since for the moment it’s all inappropriate, nothing’s been made public yet, only with the parents… Believe me, it’s all just fine, sir!”
“So it hasn’t been decided yet?”
“No, it’s decided, everything’s decided. Believe me, it’s all just fine, sir.”
“And she knows?”
“That is, it’s only for appearance, for propriety’s sake, that it hasn’t been talked about, as it were; but how could she not know, sir?” Pavel Pavlovich narrowed his eyes pleasantly. “So, then, will you make me a happy man, Alexei Ivanovich?” he concluded, terribly timidly.
“But what should I go there for? However,” he added hastily, “since I’m not going in any case, don’t offer me any reasons.”
“Alexei Ivanovich…”
“But do you think I can really sit down beside you and go!”
A disgusted and hostile feeling came back to him again after the momentary diversion of Pavel Pavlovich’s babble about his fiancée. Another minute, it seemed, and he would chase him out altogether. He was even angry with himself for something.
“Sit down, Alexei Ivanovich, sit down beside me and you won’t regret it!” Pavel Pavlovich entreated in a soulful voice. “No, no, no!” he waved his hands, catching Velchaninov’s impatient and resolute gesture, “Alexei Ivanovich, Alexei Ivanovich, don’t decide yet, sir! I see that you have perhaps misunderstood me: I realize only too well that I am not friends with you, nor you with me, sir; I’m not so absurd as not to realize that, sir. And that this present favor I am begging of you doesn’t count for anything in the future. And I myself will leave completely the day after tomorrow, sir—altogether, sir, so it’s as if there was nothing. Let this day be only one occasion, sir. I came to you basing my hopes on the nobility of certain special feelings of your heart, Alexei Ivanovich—precisely on those feelings that may have been stirred in your heart recently, sir… I believe I’m speaking clearly, sir—or not quite?”
Pavel Pavlovich’s agitation had grown in the extreme. Velchaninov looked at him strangely.
“You’re begging for some favor on my part,” he asked, pondering, “and being terribly insistent—I find that suspicious; I want to know more.”
“The whole favor consists only in your coming with me. And afterward, when we’ve come back, I’ll lay out everything before you as if at confession. Trust me, Alexei Ivanovich!”
But Velchaninov still kept refusing, and the more stubbornly as he felt in himself a certain heavy, spiteful thought. This wicked thought had already long been stirring in him, from the very beginning, when Pavel Pavlovich had only just announced about his fiancée: whether from simple curiosity, or some still entirely vague inclination, he felt drawn—to agree. And the more drawn he was, the more he defended himself. He was sitting, leaning on his hand, and reflecting. Pavel Pavlovich fussed about and implored him.
“All right, I’ll go,” he suddenly agreed uneasily and almost anxiously, getting up from his place. Pavel Pavlovich was boundlessly overjoyed.
“No, Alexei Ivanovich, you get yourself dressed up now,” he fussed joyfully around Velchaninov, who was getting dressed, “nicely, the way you know how.”
“Strange man,” Velchaninov thought to himself, “why is he letting himself in for it?”
“And this is not the only favor I expect from you, Alexei Ivanovich, sir. Since you’ve given your consent, also be my guide, sir.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that there’s a big question, sir: about the crape, sir? What’s more appropriate: to take it off, or to keep the crape?”
“As you like.”
“No, I want your decision—that is, if you were wearing crape, sir? My own thought was that if I keep it, it will point to a constancy of feelings, sir, and so will be a flattering recommendation.”
“Take it off, naturally.”
“Naturally, you say?” Pavel Pavlovich pondered. “No, I’d rather keep it, sir…”
“As you like.”—“Anyhow he doesn’t trust me, that’s good,” thought Velchaninov.
They went out; Pavel Pavlovich contemplated the dressed-up Velchaninov with satisfaction; it even seemed as if more respect and importance showed in his face. Velchaninov marveled at him and still more at himself. By the gate an excellent carriage stood waiting for them.
“And you’ve got a carriage all ready? So you were sure I’d go?”
“I hired the carriage for myself, sir, but I was almost certain you’d agree to go,” Pavel Pavlovich responded with the look of a perfectly happy man.
“Eh, Pavel Pavlovich,” Velchaninov laughed somehow vexedly when they were already settled and starting out, “aren’t you a bit too sure of me?”
“But it’s not for you, Alexei Ivanovich, it’s not for you to tell me I’m a fool on account of that?” Pavel Pavlovich replied in a firm and soulful voice.
“And Liza?” thought Velchaninov, and at once dropped the thought, as if fearing some blasphemy. And suddenly he seemed so paltry to himself, so insignificant at that moment; the thought that was tempting him seemed such a small, such a nasty little thought… and he wanted at all costs to drop everything again and get out of the carriage right then, even if he had to beat Pavel Pavlovich because of it. But the man started to speak and the temptation again gripped his heart.
“Alexei Ivanovich, do you know how to judge precious stones, sir?”
“What precious stones?”
“Diamonds, sir.”
“I do.”
“I’d like to bring a little present. Guide me: should I do it, or not?”
“In my opinion, you shouldn’t.”
“But I’d very much like to, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich squirmed, “only what should I buy, sir? A whole set—that is, brooch, earrings, and bracelet—or just one thing?”