Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (70 page)

‘And is that establishment of your governor’s an expression of the highest morality too?’ observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which they were passing at that instant.

Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at Bazarov’s unexpected familiarity.

CHAPTER XIV

A few days later the ball at the Governor’s took place. Matvy Ilyitch was the real ‘hero of the occasion.’ The marshal of nobility declared to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly motionless, was still ‘making arrangements.’ The affability of Matvy Ilyitch’s demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles
‘en vrai chevalier français’
before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly ‘nephew’; vouchsafed Bazarov — who was attired in a rather old evening coat — a sidelong glance in passing — absent but condescending — and an indistinct but affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but ‘I ...’ and ‘very much’; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her hair, he said
‘enchanté.’
. There were crowds of people, and no lack of dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring interjections of the kind of —
’zut,’ ‘Ah, fichtr - re,’ ‘pst, pst, mon bibi,’
and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine Parisian
chic,
and at the same time he said
‘si j’aurais’
for
‘si j’avais,’ ‘absolument’
in the sense of ‘absolutely,’ expressed himself, in fact, in that Great Russo - French jargon which the French ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak French like angels,
‘comme des anges.’

Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of embarrassment it seemed, ‘Odintsova is here!’

Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression — tranquil it was precisely, not pensive — and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face.

‘Do you know her?’ Arkady asked Sitnikov.

‘Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?’

‘Please ... after this quadrille.’

Bazarov’s attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov.

‘That’s a striking figure,’ he remarked. ‘Not like the other females.’

After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she heard Arkady’s surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of Nikolai Petrovitch.

‘Yes.’

‘I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,’ she went on; ‘I am glad to make your acquaintance.’

At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a quadrille. She consented.

‘Do you dance then?’ asked Arkady respectfully.

‘Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don’t dance? Do you think I am too old?’

‘Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for a mazurka.’

Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. ‘Certainly,’ she said, and she looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older than Arkady — she was twenty - nine — but in her presence he felt himself a schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly. Her nose — like almost all Russian noses — was a little thick; and her complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest — more gracefully and amply — and her movements were distinguished by a peculiar smoothness and naturalness.

Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov’s tranquillity gained upon him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy, slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her, looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had already felt and thought much....

‘Who is that you were standing with?’ she asked him, ‘when Mr. Sitnikov brought you to me?’

‘Did you notice him?’ Arkady asked in his turn. ‘He has a splendid face, hasn’t he? That’s Bazarov, my friend.’

Arkady fell to discussing ‘his friend.’ He spoke of him in such detail, and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down by that feeling.

The music stopped.
‘Merci,’
said Madame Odintsov, getting up. ‘You promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.’

The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low, looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, ‘This minute she has forgotten my existence,’ was conscious of an exquisite humility in his soul.

‘Well?’ Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the corner. ‘Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to me about that lady; he said, “She’s — oh, fie! fie!” but I fancy the fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she? — oh, fie! fie!’

‘I don’t quite understand that definition,’ answered Arkady.

‘Oh, my! What innocence!’

‘In that case, I don’t understand the gentleman you quote. Madame Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and severely, that....’

‘Still waters ... you know!’ put in Bazarov. ‘That’s just what gives it piquancy. You like ices, I expect?’

‘Perhaps,’ muttered Arkady. ‘I can’t give an opinion about that. She wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see her.’

‘I can imagine how you’ve described me! But you did very well. Take me. Whatever she may be — whether she’s simply a provincial lioness, or “advanced” after Kukshina’s fashion — any way she’s got a pair of shoulders such as I’ve not set eyes on for a long while.’

Arkady was wounded by Bazarov’s cynicism, but — as often happens — he reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ...

‘Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?’ he said in a low voice.

‘Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers among women are frights.’

The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously malicious, but somewhat faint - hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at four o’clock in the morning she was dancing a polka - mazurka with Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final event of the Governor’s ball.

CHAPTER XV

‘Let’s see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,’ Bazarov said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. ‘I scent out something wrong here.’

‘I’m surprised at you!’ cried Arkady. ‘What? You, you, Bazarov, clinging to the narrow morality, which ...’

‘What a funny fellow you are!’ Bazarov cut him short, carelessly. ‘Don’t you know that “something wrong” means “something right” in my dialect and for me? It’s an advantage for me, of course. Didn’t you tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though, to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don’t believe the gossip of the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says, that it’s well - grounded.’

Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room, badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine. Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil, as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. ‘Here’s a go! — frightened of a petticoat!’ he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an easy - chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease, while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him.

Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev, notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where, however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two daughters — Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes — the H —
 
— s — had died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna’s position after her father’s death was very difficult. The brilliant education she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with the cares of domestic life and economy, — for an obscure existence in the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and promptly sent for a sister of her mother’s Princess Avdotya Stepanovna H —
 
— , a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in her niece’s house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use, scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a threadbare pea - green livery with light blue trimming and a three - cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt’s whims, gradually set to work on her sister’s education, and was, it seemed, already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty - six, an eccentric hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not ill - natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty miles from the town of X —
 
— . There she had a magnificent, splendidly furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna went very rarely to the town, generally only on business, and even then she did not stay long. She was not liked in the province; there had been a fearful outcry at her marriage with Odintsov, all sorts of fictions were told about her; it was asserted that she had helped her father in his cardsharping tricks, and even that she had gone abroad for excellent reasons, that it had been necessary to conceal the lamentable consequences ... ‘You understand?’ the indignant gossips would wind up. ‘She has gone through the fire,’ was said of her; to which a noted provincial wit usually added: ‘And through all the other elements?’ All this talk reached her; but she turned a deaf ear to it; there was much independence and a good deal of determination in her character.

Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy - chair, and listened with folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good deal, and obviously trying to interest her — again a surprise for Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna’s face what impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression, gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention, but by quiet attention. Bazarov’s bad manners had impressed her unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man ‘who dares to have no belief in anything’; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that Madame Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a good many excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She turned the conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not appreciate art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though Arkady was just launching into a discourse upon the significance of national melodies. Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a younger brother; she seemed to appreciate his good - nature and youthful simplicity — and that was all. For over three hours, a lively conversation was kept up, ranging freely over various subjects.

The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both, and, after a moment’s thought, said with a doubtful but delightful smile. ‘If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me at Nikolskoe.’

‘Oh, Anna Sergyevna,’ cried Arkady, ‘I shall think it the greatness happiness ...’

‘And you, Monsieur Bazarov?’

Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he noticed that his friend was blushing.

‘Well?’ he said to him in the street; ‘are you still of the same opinion — that she’s ...’

‘Who can tell? See how correct she is!’ retorted Bazarov; and after a brief pause he added, ‘She’s a perfect grand - duchess, a royal personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.’

‘Our grand - duchesses don’t talk Russian like that,’ remarked Arkady.

‘She’s seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she’s known what it is to be hard up!’

‘Any way, she’s charming,’ observed Arkady.

‘What a magnificent body!’ pursued Bazarov. ‘Shouldn’t I like to see it on the dissecting - table.’

‘Hush, for mercy’s sake, Yevgeny! that’s beyond everything.’

‘Well, don’t get angry, you baby. I meant it’s first - rate. We must go to stay with her.’

‘When?’

‘Well, why not the day after to - morrow. What is there to do here? Drink champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal dignitary?... Let’s be off the day after to - morrow. By the way, too — my father’s little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe’s on the S —
 
— road, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a splendid body!’

Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek posting - horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled.

‘Congratulate me,’ cried Bazarov suddenly, ‘to - day’s the 22nd of June, my guardian angel’s day. Let’s see how he will watch over me. To - day they expect me home,’ he added, dropping his voice.... ‘Well, they can go on expecting.... What does it matter!’