* Léon is going away, Léon is going away forever!
yet here I am talking with you, and with you I'm not ashamed. I'm unsociable and may not visit you for a long time. Don't take it as thinking ilclass="underline" I'm not saying it because I don't value you, and you also mustn't think I've been offended in any way. You asked me about your faces and what I observe in them. I'll tell you with great pleasure. Yours, Adelaida Ivanovna, is a happy face, the most sympathetic of the three. Not only are you very pretty, but one looks at you and says: 'She has the face of a kind sister.' You approach things simply and cheerfully, but you are also quick to know hearts. That's what I think about your face. Yours, Alexandra Ivanovna, is also a beautiful and very sweet face, but you may have some secret sorrow; your soul is no doubt very kind, but you are not joyful. There is some special nuance in your face that reminds me of Holbein's Madonna in Dresden.26 Well, that's for your face— am I a good guesser? You yourselves consider me one. But about your face, Lizaveta Prokofyevna," he suddenly turned to Mrs. Epanchin, "about your face I not only think but I'm certain that you are a perfect child, in everything, in everything, in everything good and in everything bad, despite your age. You're not angry that I say it? You do know my regard for children? And don't think it's out of simplicity that I've just spoken so candidly about your faces; oh, no, not at all! Maybe I, too, have something in mind."
VII
When the prince fell silent, they all looked at him gaily, even Aglaya, but especially Lizaveta Prokofyevna.
"Quite an examination!" she cried. "So, my dear ladies, you thought you were going to patronize him like a poor little thing, and he barely deigned to accept you, and that with the reservation that he would come only rarely. We've been made fools of—Ivan Fyodorovich most of all—and I'm glad. Bravo, Prince, we were told earlier to put you through an examination. And what you said about my face is all completely true: I am a child, and I know it. I knew it even before you said it; you precisely expressed my own thought in a single word. I think your character is completely identical to mine, and I'm very glad; like two drops of water. Only you're a man and I'm a woman, and I've never been to Switzerland, that's all the difference."
"Don't be in a hurry, maman" cried Aglaya, "the prince said he
had something special in mind in all his confessions, and he wasn't simply saying it."
"Yes, oh, yes," the others laughed.
"Don't tease him, my dears, he may be cleverer than all three of you put together. You'll see. Only why have you said nothing about Aglaya, Prince? Aglaya's waiting, and I am, too."
"I can't say anything now. I'll say it later."
"Why? She's noticeable, I believe?"
"Oh, yes, she's noticeable. You're an extraordinary beauty, Aglaya Ivanovna. You're so good-looking that one is afraid to look at you."
"That's all? And her qualities?" Mrs. Epanchin persisted.
"Beauty is difficult to judge; I'm not prepared yet. Beauty is a riddle."
"That means you've set Aglaya a riddle," said Adelaida. "Solve it, Aglaya. But she is good-looking, isn't she, Prince?"
"Extremely!" the prince replied warmly, with an enthusiastic glance at Aglaya. "Almost like Nastasya Filippovna, though her face is quite different ..."
They all exchanged astonished looks.
"Like who-o-om?" Mrs. Epanchin drew out. "Like Nastasya Filippovna? Where have you seen Nastasya Filippovna? What Nastasya Filippovna?"
"Gavrila Ardalionovich was just showing Ivan Fyodorovich her portrait."
"What? He brought Ivan Fyodorovich her portrait?"
"To show him. Today Nastasya Filippovna presented Gavrila Ardalionovich with her portrait, and he brought it to show."
"I want to see it!" Mrs. Epanchin heaved herself up. "Where is this portrait? If she gave it to him, he must have it, and, of course, he's still in the office! He always comes to work on Wednesdays and never leaves before four. Send for Gavrila Ardalionovich at once! No, I'm hardly dying to see him. Do me a favor, my dear Prince, go to the office, take the portrait from him, and bring it here. Tell him we want to look at it. Please."
"He's nice, but much too simple," said Adelaida, when the prince had gone.
"Yes, much too much," agreed Alexandra, "so that he's even slightly ridiculous."
It was as if neither had spoken her whole mind.
"However, with our faces he got out of it nicely," said Aglaya. "He flattered everyone, even maman."
"Don't be witty, please!" cried Mrs. Epanchin. "It was not he who flattered me, but I who was flattered."
"Do you think he was trying to get out of it?" asked Adelaida.
"I don't think he's so simple."
"Well, there she goes!" Mrs. Epanchin became angry. "And in my opinion you're even more ridiculous than he is. He's a bit simple, but he keeps his own counsel, in the most noble fashion, to be sure. Just as I do."
"Of course, it was bad of me to let on about the portrait," the prince reflected to himself on his way to the office, feeling some remorse. "But . . . maybe it's a good thing I let on ..." A strange idea was beginning to flash in his head, though not a very clear one as yet.
Gavrila Ardalionovich was still sitting in the office and was immersed in his papers. Evidently he did not get his salary from the joint-stock company for nothing. He became terribly embarrassed when the prince asked about the portrait and told him how they had found out about it.
"A-a-ah! Why did you have to blab!" he shouted in angry vexation. "You don't know anything . . . Idiot!" he muttered to himself.
"I'm sorry, I said it quite unthinkingly, just by the way. I said that Aglaya was almost as good-looking as Nastasya Filippovna."
Ganya asked for more detail. The prince complied. Ganya again gave him a mocking look.
"You do go on about Nastasya Filippovna . . ." he muttered, but lapsed into thought without finishing.
He was obviously alarmed. The prince reminded him about the portrait.
"Listen, Prince," Ganya said suddenly, as if an unexpected thought had dawned on him. "I have a huge request to make of you . . . But I really don't know . . ."
He became embarrassed and did not finish; he was venturing upon something and seemed to be struggling with himself. The prince waited silently. Ganya studied him once more with intent, searching eyes.
"Prince," he began again, "right now they're . . . owing to a completely strange circumstance . . . ridiculous . . . and for which I'm not to blame . . . well, in short, it's irrelevant—they're a bit angry with me in there, it seems, so for the time being I'd rather not go there without being sent for. I need terribly to talk with Aglaya Ivanovna now. I've written a few words just in case" (a
small, folded note appeared in his hand), "and I don't know how to deliver it. Would you take it upon yourself, Prince, to deliver it to Aglaya Ivanovna, right now, but only to Aglaya Ivanovna, that is, so that nobody sees—understand? It's not such a great secret, God knows, there's nothing to it, but . . . will you do it?"