A House of Gentlefolk Part 21

"Well, sit down, sit down," the old lady went on. "Did you come straight up-stairs? Well, there, of course. So... you came to see me? Thanks."

The old lady was silent for a little; Lavretsky did not know what to say to her; but she understood him.

"Lisa... yes, Lisa was here just now," pursued Marfa Timofyevna, tying and untying the ta.s.sels of her reticule. "She was not quite well.

Shurotchka, where are you? Come here, my girl; why can't you sit still a little? My head aches too. It must be the effect of the singing and music."

"What singing, auntie?"

"Why, we have been having those--upon my word, what do you call them--duets here. And all in Italian: chi-chi--and cha-cha--like magpies for all the world with their long drawn-out notes as if they'd pull your very soul out. That's Pans.h.i.+n, and your wife too. And how quickly everything was settled; just as though it were all among relations, without ceremony. However, one may well say, even a dog will try to find a home; and won't be lost so long as folks don't drive it out."

"Still, I confess I did not expect this," rejoined Lavretsky; "there must be great effrontery to do this."

"No, my darling, it's not effrontery, it's calculation, G.o.d forgive her!

They say you are sending her off to Lavriky; is it true?"

"Yes, I am giving up that property to Varvara Pavlovna."

"Has she asked you for money?"

"Not yet."

"Well, that won't be long in coming. But I have only now got a look at you. Are you quite well?"

"Yes."

"Shurotchka!" cried Marfa Timofyevna suddenly, "run and tell Lisaveta Mihalovna,--at least, no, ask her... is she down-stairs?"

"Yes."

"Well, then; ask her where she put my book? she will know."

"Very well."

The old lady grew fidgety again and began opening a drawer in the chest.

Lavretsky sat still without stirring in his place.

All at once light footsteps were heard on the stairs--and Lisa came in.

Lavretsky stood up and bowed; Lisa remained at the door.

"Lisa, Lisa, darling," began Marfa Timofyevna eagerly, "where is my book? where did you put my book?"

"What book, auntie?"

"Why, goodness me, that book! But I didn't call you though... There, it doesn't matter. What are you doing down-stairs? Here Fedor Ivanitch has come. How is your head?"

"It's nothing."

"You keep saying it's nothing. What have you going on down-stairs--music?"

"No--they are playing cards."

"Well, she's ready for anything. Shurotchka, I see you want a run in the garden--run along."

"Oh, no, Marfa Timofyevna."

"Don't argue, if you please, run along. Nastasya Karpovna has gone out into the garden all by herself; you keep her company. You must treat the old with respect."--Shurotchka departed--"But where is my cap? Where has it got to?"

"Let me look for it," said Lisa.

"Sit down, sit down; I have still the use of my legs. It must be inside in my bedroom."

And flinging a sidelong glance in Lavretsky's direction, Marfa Timofyevna went out. She left the door open; but suddenly she came back to it and shut it.

Lisa leant back against her chair and quietly covered her face with her hands; Lavretsky remained where he was.

"This is how we were to meet again!" he brought out at last.

Lisa took her hands from her face.

"Yes," she said faintly: "we were quickly punished."

"Punished," said Lavretsky.... "What had you done to be punished?"

Lisa raised her eyes to him. There was neither sorrow or disquiet expressed in them; they seemed smaller and dimmer. Her face was pale; and pale too her slightly parted lips.

Lavretsky's heart shuddered for pity and love.

"You wrote to me; all is over," he whispered, "yes, all is over--before it had begun."

"We must forget all that," Lisa brought out; "I am glad that you have come; I wanted to write to you, but it is better so. Only we must take advantage quickly of these minutes. It is left for both of us to do our duty. You, Fedor Ivanitch, must be reconciled with your wife."

"Lisa!"

"I beg you to do so; by that alone can we expiate... all that has happened. You will think about it--and will not refuse me."

"Lisa, for G.o.d's sake,--you are asking what is impossible. I am ready to do everything you tell me; but to be reconciled to her now!... I consent to everything, I have forgotten everything; but I cannot force my heart.... Indeed, this is cruel!

"I do not even ask of you... what you say; do not live with her, if you cannot; but be reconciled," replied Lisa and again she hid her eyes in her hand.--"remember your little girl; do it for my sake."

"Very well," Lavretsky muttered between his teeth: "I will do that, I suppose in that I shall fulfill my duty. But you-what does your duty consist in?"

"That I know myself."

Lavretsky started suddenly.

"You cannot be making up your mind to marry Pans.h.i.+n?" he said.