MARYA DMITRIEVNA was much agitated when she received the announcement of the arrival of Varvara Pavlovna Lavretsky, she did not even know whether to receive her; she was afraid of giving offence to Fedor Ivanitch. At last curiosity prevailed. Why, she reflected, she too is a relation, and, taking up her position in an arm-chair, she said to the footman, Show her in. A few moments passed; the door opened, Varvara Pavlovna, swiftly and with scarcely audible steps, approached Marya Dmitrievna, and not allowing her to rise from her chair, bent almost on her knees before her.
As she uttered these words Varvara Pavlovna quite unexpectedly took possession of one of Marya Dmitrievnas hands, and pressing it lightly in her pale lavender gloves she raised it in a fawning way to her full rosy lips. Marya Dmitrievna quite lost her head, seeing such a handsome and charmingly dressed woman almost at her feet. She did not know where she was. And she tried to withdraw her hand, while, at the same time, she was inclined to make her sit down, and to say something affectionate to her. She ended by raising Varvara Pavlovna and kissing her on her smooth perfumed brow. Varvara Pavlovna was completely overcome by this kiss.
Of course, you will dine with us, I hope. II will introduce you to my daughter. Marya Dmitrievna was a little confused. Well! we are in for it! here goes! she thought. She is not very well to-day.
A page announced the arrival of Gedeonovsky. The old gossip came in bowing and smiling. Marya Dmitrievna presented him to her visitor. He was thrown into confusion for the first moment; but Varvara Pavlovna behaved with such coquettish respectfulness to him, that his ears began to tingle, and gossip, slander, and civility dropped like honey from his lips. Varvara Pavlovna listened to him with a restrained smile and began by degrees to talk herself. She spoke modestly of Paris, of her travels, of Baden; twice she made Marya Dmitrievna laugh, and each time she sighed a little afterwards, and seemed to be inwardly reproaching herself for misplaced levity. She obtained permission to bring Ada; taking off her gloves, with her smooth hands, redolent of soap à la guimauve, she showed how and where flounces were worn and ruches and lace and rosettes. She promised to bring a bottle of the new English scent, Victoria Essence; and was as happy as a child when Marya Dmitrievna consented to accept it as a gift. She was moved to tears over the recollection of the emotion she experienced, when, for the first time, she heard the Russian bells. They went so deeply to my heart, she explained.
Ever since the morning, from the very instant when, chill with horror, she had read Lavretskys note, Lisa had been preparing herself for the meeting with his wife. She had a presentiment that she would see her. She resolved not to avoid her, as a punishment of her, as she called them, sinful hopes. The sudden crisis in her destiny had shaken her to the foundations. In some two hours her face seemed to have grown thin. But she did not shed a single tear. Its what I deserve! she said to herself, repressing with difficulty and dismay some bitter impulses of hatred which frightened her in her soul. Well, I must go down! she thought directly she heard of Madame Lavretskys arrival, and she went down. She stood a long while at the drawingroom door before she could summon up courage to open it. With the thought, I have done her wrong, she crossed the threshold and forced herself to look at her, forced herself to smile. Varvara Pavlovna went to meet her directly she caught sight of her, and bowed to her slightly, but still respectfully. Allow me to introduce myself, she began in an insinuating voice, your maman is so indulgent to me that I hope that you too will be good to me. The expression of Varvara Pavlovna, when she uttered these last words, cold and at the same time soft, her hypocritical smile, the action of her hands, and her shoulders, her very dress, her whole being aroused such a feeling of repulsion in Lisa that she could make no reply to her, and only held out her hand with an effort. This young lady disdains me, thought Varvara Pavlovna, warmly pressing Lisas cold fingers, and turning to Marya Dmitrievna, she observed in an undertone, mais elle est délicieuse! Lisa faintly flushed; she heard ridicule, insult in this exclamation. But she resolved not to trust her impressions, and sat down by the window at her embroidery-frame. Even here Varvara Pavlovna did not leave her in peace. She began to admire her taste, her skill. Lisas heart beat violently and painfully. She could scarcely control herself, she could scarcely sit in her place. It seemed to her that Varvara Pavlovna knew all, and was mocking at her in secret triumph. To her relief, Gedeonovsky began to talk to Varvara Pavlovna, and drew off her attention. Lisa bent over her frame, and secretly watched her. That woman, she thought, was loved by him. But she at once drove away the very thought of Lavretsky; she was afraid of losing her control over herself, she felt that her head was going round. Marya Dmitrievna began to talk of music.
Marvellous! Marya Dmitrievna chimed in. Well, Varvara Pavlovna, I confess, she observed, for the first time calling her by her name, you have astonished me; you might give concerts. We have a musician here, an old German, a queer fellow, but a very clever musician. He gives Lisa lessons. He will be simply crazy over you.
Yes, she plays fairly, and is fond of music; but what is that beside you? But there is one young man here toowith whom we must make you acquainted. He is an artist in soul, and composes very charmingly. He alone will be able to appreciate you fully.
Oh dear no, our chief beau, and not only among uset à Petersbourg. A kammer-junker, and received in the best society. You must have heard of him: Panshin, Vladimir Nikolaitch. He is here on a government commission a future minister, I daresay!
An artist at heart, and so well-bred. You shall see him. He has been here very often of late: I invited him for this evening; I hope he will come, added Marya Dmitrievna with a gentle sigh, and an oblique smile of bitterness.
Varvara Pavlovna began suddenly playing a noisy waltz of Strauss, opening with such a loud and rapid trill that Gedeonovsky was quite startled. In the very middle of the waltz she suddenly passed into a pathetic motive, and finished up with an air from Lucia Fra poco. She reflected that lively music was not in keeping with her position. The air from Lucia, with emphasis on the sentimental passages, moved Marya Dmitrievna greatly.
The dinner hour arrived. Marfa Timofyevna came down from up-stairs, when the soup was already on the table. She treated Varvara Pavlovna very drily, replied in half-sentences to her civilities, and did not look at her. Varvara Pavlovna soon realised that there was nothing to be got out of this old lady, and gave up trying to talk to her. To make up for this, Marya Dmitrievna became still more cordial to her guest; her aunts discourtesy irritated her. Marfa Timofyevna, however, did not only avoid looking at Varvara Pavlovna; she did not look at Lisa either, though her eyes seemed literally blazing. She sat as though she were of stone, yellow and pale, her lips compressed, and ate nothing. Lisa seemed calm; and in reality, her heart was more at rest; a strange apathy, the apathy of the condemned had come upon her. At dinner Varvara Pavlovna spoke little; she seemed to have grown timid again, and her countenance was overspread with an expression of modest melancholy. Gedeonovsky alone enlivened the conversation with his tales, though he constantly looked timorously towards Marfa Timofyevna and coughedhe was always overtaken by a fit of coughing when he was going to tell a lie in her presencebut she did not hinder him by any interruption. After dinner it seemed that Varvara Pavlovna was quite devoted to preference; at this Marya Dmitrievna was so delighted that she felt quite overcome, and thought to herself, Really what a fool Fedor Ivanitch must be; not able to appreciate a woman like this!
Lisa went into her aunts room, and sank powerless into a chair. Marfa Timofyevna gazed long at her in silence, slowly she knelt down before herand began still in the same silence to kiss her hands alternately. Lisa bent forward, crimsoningand began to weep, but she did not make Marfa Timofyevna get up, she did not take away her hands; she felt that she had not the right to take them away, that she had not the right to hinder the old lady from expressing her penitence, and her sympathy, from begging forgiveness for what had passed the day before. And Marfa Timofyevna could not kiss enough those poor, pale, powerless hands, and silent tears flowed from her eyes and from Lisas; while the cat Matross purred in the wide arm-chair among the knitting wool, and the long flame of the little lamp faintly stirred and flickered before the holy picture. In the next room, behind the door, stood Nastasya Karpovna, and she too was furtively wiping her eyes with her check pocket-handkerchief rolled up in a ball.