Exactly five years ago, on New Year’s Eve, I was invited to a children’s ball by a man high up in the business world, who had his connections, his circle of acquaintances, and his intrigues2. So it seemed as though the children’s ball was merely a pretext3 for the parents to come together and discuss matters of interest to themselves, quite innocently and casually4.
I was an outsider, and, as I had no special matters to air, I was able to spend the evening independently of the others. There was another gentleman present who like myself had just stumbled upon this affair of domestic bliss5. He was the first to attract my attention. His appearance was not that of a man of birth or high family. He was tall, rather thin, very serious, and well dressed. Apparently6 he had no heart for the family festivities. The instant he went off into a corner by himself the smile disappeared from his face, and his thick dark brows knitted into a frown. He knew no one except the host and showed every sign of being bored to death, though bravely sustaining the role of thorough enjoyment7 to the end. Later I learned that he was a provincial8, had come to the capital on some important, brain-racking business, had brought a letter of recommendation to our host, and our host had taken him under his protection, not at all con1 amore. It was merely out of politeness that he had invited him to the children’s ball.
They did not play cards with him, they did not offer him cigars. No one entered into conversation with him. Possibly they recognised the bird by its feathers from a distance. Thus, my gentleman, not knowing what to do with his hands, was compelled to spend the evening stroking his whiskers. His whiskers were really fine, but he stroked them so assiduously that one got the feeling that the whiskers had come into the world first and afterwards the man in order to stroke them.
There was another guest who interested me. But he was of quite a different order. He was a personage. They called him Julian Mastakovich. At first glance one could tell he was an honoured guest and stood in the same relation to the host as the host to the gentleman of the whiskers. The host and hostess said no end of amiable9 things to him, were most attentive10, wining him, hovering11 over him, bringing guests up to be introduced, but never leading him to any one else. I noticed tears glisten12 in our host’s eyes when Julian Mastakovich remarked that he had rarely spent such a pleasant evening. Somehow I began to feel uncomfortable in this personage’s presence. So, after amusing myself with the children, five of whom, remarkably13 well-fed young persons, were our host’s, I went into a little sitting-room14, entirely15 unoccupied, and seated myself at the end that was a conservatory16 and took up almost half the room.
The children were charming. They absolutely refused to resemble their elders, notwithstanding the efforts of mothers and governesses. In a jiffy they had denuded18 the Christmas tree down to the very last sweet and had already succeeded in breaking half of their playthings before they even found out which belonged to whom.
One of them was a particularly handsome little lad, dark-eyed, curly-haired, who stubbornly persisted in aiming at me with his wooden gun. But the child that attracted the greatest attention was his sister, a girl of about eleven, lovely as a Cupid. She was quiet and thoughtful, with large, full, dreamy eyes. The children had somehow offended her, and she left them and walked into the same room that I had withdrawn19 into. There she seated herself with her doll in a corner.
“Her father is an immensely wealthy business man,” the guests informed each other in tones of awe20. “Three hundred thousand rubles set aside for her dowry already.”
As I turned to look at the group from which I heard this news item issuing, my glance met Julian Mastakovich’s. He stood listening to the insipid21 chatter22 in an attitude of concentrated attention, with his hands behind his back and his head inclined to one side.
All the while I was quite lost in admiration23 of the shrewdness our host displayed in the dispensing24 of the gifts. The little maid of the many-rubied dowry received the handsomest doll, and the rest of the gifts were graded in value according to the diminishing scale of the parents’ stations in life. The last child, a tiny chap of ten, thin, red-haired, freckled25, came into possession of a small book of nature stories without illustrations or even head and tail pieces. He was the governess’s child. She was a poor widow, and her little boy, clad in a sorry-looking little nankeen jacket, looked thoroughly27 crushed and intimidated28. He took the book of nature stories and circled slowly about the children’s toys. He would have given anything to play with them. But he did not dare to. You could tell he already knew his place.
I like to observe children. It is fascinating to watch the individuality in them struggling for self-assertion. I could see that the other children’s things had tremendous charm for the red-haired boy, especially a toy theatre, in which he was so anxious to take a part that he resolved to fawn29 upon the other children. He smiled and began to play with them. His one and only apple he handed over to a puffy urchin30 whose pockets were already crammed31 with sweets, and he even carried another youngster pickaback—all simply that he might be allowed to stay with the theatre.
But in a few moments an impudent32 young person fell on him and gave him a pummelling. He did not dare even to cry. The governess came and told him to leave off interfering33 with the other children’s games, and he crept away to the same room the little girl and I were in. She let him sit down beside her, and the two set themselves busily dressing34 the expensive doll.
Almost half an hour passed, and I was nearly dozing35 off, as I sat there in the conservatory half listening to the chatter of the red-haired boy and the dowered beauty, when Julian Mastakovich entered suddenly. He had slipped out of the drawing-room under cover of a noisy scene among the children. From my secluded36 corner it had not escaped my notice that a few moments before he had been eagerly conversing37 with the rich girl’s father, to whom he had only just been introduced.
He stood still for a while reflecting and mumbling38 to himself, as if counting something on his fingers.
“Three hundred—three hundred—eleven—twelve—thirteen—sixteen—in five years! Let’s say four per cent—five times twelve—sixty, and on these sixty——. Let us assume that in five years it will amount to—well, four hundred. Hm—hm! But the shrewd old fox isn’t likely to be satisfied with four per cent. He gets eight or even ten, perhaps. Let’s suppose five hundred, five hundred thousand, at least, that’s sure. Anything above that for pocket money—hm—”
He blew his nose and was about to leave the room when he spied the girl and stood still. I, behind the plants, escaped his notice. He seemed to me to be quivering with excitement. It must have been his calculations that upset him so. He rubbed his hands and danced from place to place, and kept getting more and more excited. Finally, however, he conquered his emotions and came to a standstill. He cast a determined39 look at the future bride and wanted to move toward her, but glanced about first. Then, as if with a guilty conscience, he stepped over to the child on tip-toe, smiling, and bent40 down and kissed her head.
His coming was so unexpected that she uttered a shriek41 of alarm.
“What are you doing here, dear child?” he whispered, looking around and pinching her cheek.
“We’re playing.”
“What, with him?” said Julian Mastakovich with a look askance at the governess’s child. “You should go into the drawing-room, my lad,” he said to him.
The boy remained silent and looked up at the man with wide-open eyes. Julian Mastakovich glanced round again cautiously and bent down over the girl.
“What have you got, a doll, my dear?”
“Yes, sir.” The child quailed42 a little, and her brow wrinkled.
“A doll? And do you know, my dear, what dolls are made of?”
“No, sir,” she said weakly, and lowered her head.
“Out of rags, my dear. You, boy, you go back to the drawing-room, to the children,” said Julian Mastakovich looking at the boy sternly.
The two children frowned. They caught hold of each other and would not part.
“And do you know why they gave you the doll?” asked Julian Mastakovich, dropping his voice lower and lower.
“No.”
“Because you were a good, very good little girl the whole week.”
Saying which, Julian Mastakovich was seized with a paroxysm of agitation43. He looked round and said in a tone faint, almost inaudible with excitement and impatience44:
“If I come to visit your parents will you love me, my dear?”
He tried to kiss the sweet little creature, but the red-haired boy saw that she was on the verge45 of tears, and he caught her hand and sobbed46 out loud in sympathy. That enraged47 the man.
“Go away! Go away! Go back to the other room, to your playmates.”
“I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to! You go away!” cried the girl. “Let him alone! Let him alone!” She was almost weeping.
There was a sound of footsteps in the doorway48. Julian Mastakovich started and straightened up his respectable body. The red-haired boy was even more alarmed. He let go the girl’s hand, sidled along the wall, and escaped through the drawing-room into the dining-room.
Not to attract attention, Julian Mastakovich also made for the dining-room. He was red as a lobster49. The sight of himself in a mirror seemed to embarrass him. Presumably he was annoyed at his own ardour and impatience. Without due respect to his importance and dignity, his calculations had lured50 and pricked51 him to the greedy eagerness of a boy, who makes straight for his object—though this was not as yet an object; it only would be so in five years’ time. I followed the worthy52 man into the dining-room, where I witnessed a remarkable53 play.
Julian Mastakovich, all flushed with vexation, venom54 in his look, began to threaten the red-haired boy. The red-haired boy retreated farther and farther until there was no place left for him to retreat to, and he did not know where to turn in his fright.
“Get out of here! What are you doing here? Get out, I say, you good-for-nothing! Stealing fruit, are you? Oh, so, stealing fruit! Get out, you freckle26 face, go to your likes!”
The frightened child, as a last desperate resort, crawled quickly under the table. His persecutor55, completely infuriated, pulled out his large linen56 handkerchief and used it as a lash57 to drive the boy out of his position.
Here I must remark that Julian Mastakovich was a somewhat corpulent man, heavy, well-fed, puffy-cheeked, with a paunch and ankles as round as nuts. He perspired58 and puffed59 and panted. So strong was his dislike (or was it jealousy60?) of the child that he actually began to carry on like a madman.
I laughed heartily61. Julian Mastakovich turned. He was utterly62 confused and for a moment, apparently, quite oblivious63 of his immense importance. At that moment our host appeared in the doorway opposite. The boy crawled out from under the table and wiped his knees and elbows. Julian Mastakovich hastened to carry his handkerchief, which he had been dangling64 by the corner, to his nose. Our host looked at the three of us rather suspiciously. But, like a man who knows the world and can readily adjust himself, he seized upon the opportunity to lay hold of his very valuable guest and get what he wanted out of him.
“Here’s the boy I was talking to you about,” he said, indicating the red-haired child. “I took the liberty of presuming on your goodness in his behalf.”
“Oh,” replied Julian Mastakovich, still not quite master of himself.
“He’s my governess’s son,” our host continued in a beseeching65 tone. “She’s a poor creature, the widow of an honest official. That’s why, if it were possible for you—”
“Impossible, impossible!” Julian Mastakovich cried hastily. “You must excuse me, Philip Alexeyevich, I really cannot. I’ve made inquiries66. There are no vacancies67, and there is a waiting list of ten who have a greater right—I’m sorry.”
“Too bad,” said our host. “He’s a quiet, unobtrusive child.”
“A very naughty little rascal68, I should say,” said Julian Mastakovich, wryly69. “Go away, boy. Why are you here still? Be off with you to the other children.”
Unable to control himself, he gave me a sidelong glance. Nor could I control myself. I laughed straight in his face. He turned away and asked our host, in tones quite audible to me, who that odd young fellow was. They whispered to each other and left the room, disregarding me.
I shook with laughter. Then I, too, went to the drawing-room. There the great man, already surrounded by the fathers and mothers and the host and the hostess, had begun to talk eagerly with a lady to whom he had just been introduced. The lady held the rich little girl’s hand. Julian Mastakovich went into fulsome70 praise of her. He waxed ecstatic over the dear child’s beauty, her talents, her grace, her excellent breeding, plainly laying himself out to flatter the mother, who listened scarcely able to restrain tears of joy, while the father showed his delight by a gratified smile.
The joy was contagious71. Everybody shared in it. Even the children were obliged to stop playing so as not to disturb the conversation. The atmosphere was surcharged with awe. I heard the mother of the important little girl, touched to her profoundest depths, ask Julian Mastakovich in the choicest language of courtesy, whether he would honour them by coming to see them. I heard Julian Mastakovich accept the invitation with unfeigned enthusiasm. Then the guests scattered72 decorously to different parts of the room, and I heard them, with veneration73 in their tones, extol74 the business man, the business man’s wife, the business man’s daughter, and, especially, Julian Mastakovich.
“Is he married?” I asked out loud of an acquaintance of mine standing17 beside Julian Mastakovich.
Julian Mastakovich gave me a venomous look.
“No,” answered my acquaintance, profoundly shocked by my—intentional—indiscretion.
Not long ago I passed the Church of——. I was struck by the concourse of people gathered there to witness a wedding. It was a dreary75 day. A drizzling76 rain was beginning to come down. I made my way through the throng77 into the church. The bridegroom was a round, well-fed, pot-bellied little man, very much dressed up. He ran and fussed about and gave orders and arranged things. Finally word was passed that the bride was coming. I pushed through the crowd, and I beheld78 a marvellous beauty whose first spring was scarcely commencing. But the beauty was pale and sad. She looked distracted. It seemed to me even that her eyes were red from recent weeping. The classic severity of every line of her face imparted a peculiar79 significance and solemnity to her beauty. But through that severity and solemnity, through the sadness, shone the innocence80 of a child. There was something inexpressibly na?ve, unsettled and young in her features, which, without words, seemed to plead for mercy.
They said she was just sixteen years old. I looked at the bridegroom carefully. Suddenly I recognised Julian Mastakovich, whom I had not seen again in all those five years. Then I looked at the bride again.—Good God! I made my way, as quickly as I could, out of the church. I heard gossiping in the crowd about the bride’s wealth—about her dowry of five hundred thousand rubles—so and so much for pocket money.
“Then his calculations were correct,” I thought, as I pressed out into the street.
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1
con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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2
intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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4
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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5
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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6
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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7
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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8
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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9
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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10
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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11
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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12
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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13
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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14
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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15
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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16
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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17
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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18
denuded
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| adj.[医]变光的，裸露的v.使赤裸( denude的过去式和过去分词 )；剥光覆盖物 | |
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19
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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21
insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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22
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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23
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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24
dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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25
freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
freckle
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| n.雀簧；晒斑 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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28
intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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fawn
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| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
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30
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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31
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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32
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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33
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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34
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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35
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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36
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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37
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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38
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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39
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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40
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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41
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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42
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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44
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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45
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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46
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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47
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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48
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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49
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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50
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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51
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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52
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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53
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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54
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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55
persecutor
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| n. 迫害者 | |
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56
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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57
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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58
perspired
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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60
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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61
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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62
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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63
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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64
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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65
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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67
vacancies
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| n.空房间( vacancy的名词复数 )；空虚；空白；空缺 | |
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68
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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69
wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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70
fulsome
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| adj.可恶的，虚伪的，过分恭维的 | |
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contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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72
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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73
veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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extol
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| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
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75
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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77
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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78
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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79
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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