On reading the letter my mother turned pale and began trembling all over; then an expression of mingled4 tears and laughter came into her face. She began crying and laughing. This conflict of tears and laughter always reminds me of the flickering5 and spluttering of a brightly burning candle when one sprinkles it with water. Reading the letter once more, mother called together all the household, and in a voice broken with emotion began explaining to us that there had been four Gundasov brothers: one Gundasov had died as a baby; another had gone to the war, and he, too, was dead; the third, without offence to him be it said, was an actor; the fourth...
“The fourth has risen far above us,” my mother brought out tearfully. “My own brother, we grew up together; and I am all of a tremble, all of a tremble!... A privy councillor with the rank of a general! How shall I meet him, my angel brother? What can I, a foolish, uneducated woman, talk to him about? It’s fifteen years since I’ve seen him! Andryushenka,” my mother turned to me, “you must rejoice, little stupid! It’s a piece of luck for you that God is sending him to us!”
After we had heard a detailed6 history of the Gundasovs, there followed a fuss and bustle7 in the place such as I had been accustomed to see only before Christmas and Easter. The sky above and the water in the river were all that escaped; everything else was subjected to a merciless cleansing9, scrubbing, painting. If the sky had been lower and smaller and the river had not flowed so swiftly, they would have scoured10 them, too, with bath-brick and rubbed them, too, with tow. Our walls were as white as snow, but they were whitewashed11; the floors were bright and shining, but they were washed every day. The cat Bobtail (as a small child I had cut off a good quarter of his tail with the knife used for chopping the sugar, and that was why he was called Bobtail) was carried off to the kitchen and put in charge of Anisya; Fedka was told that if any of the dogs came near the front-door “God would punish him.” But no one was so badly treated as the poor sofas, easy-chairs, and rugs! They had never, before been so violently beaten as on this occasion in preparation for our visitor. My pigeons took fright at the loud thud of the sticks, and were continually flying up into the sky.
The tailor Spiridon, the only tailor in the whole district who ventured to make for the gentry13, came over from Novostroevka. He was a hard-working capable man who did not drink and was not without a certain fancy and feeling for form, but yet he was an atrocious tailor. His work was ruined by hesitation14.... The idea that his cut was not fashionable enough made him alter everything half a dozen times, walk all the way to the town simply to study the dandies, and in the end dress us in suits that even a caricaturist would have called outre and grotesque15. We cut a dash in impossibly narrow trousers and in such short jackets that we always felt quite abashed16 in the presence of young ladies.
This Spiridon spent a long time taking my measure. He measured me all over lengthways and crossways, as though he meant to put hoops17 round me like a barrel; then he spent a long time noting down my measurements with a thick pencil on a bit of paper, and ticked off all the measurements with triangular18 signs. When he had finished with me he set to work on my tutor, Yegor Alexyevitch Pobyedimsky. My beloved tutor was then at the stage when young men watch the growth of their moustache and are critical of their clothes, and so you can imagine the devout19 awe20 with which Spiridon approached him. Yegor Alexyevitch had to throw back his head, to straddle his legs like an inverted21 V, first lift up his arms, then let them fall. Spiridon measured him several times, walking round him during the process like a love-sick pigeon round its mate, going down on one knee, bending double.... My mother, weary, exhausted22 by her exertions23 and heated by ironing, watched these lengthy24 proceedings25, and said:
“Mind now, Spiridon, you will have to answer for it to God if you spoil the cloth! And it will be the worse for you if you don’t make them fit!”
Mother’s words threw Spiridon first into a fever, then into a perspiration26, for he was convinced that he would not make them fit. He received one rouble twenty kopecks for making my suit, and for Pobyedimsky’s two roubles, but we provided the cloth, the lining27, and the buttons. The price cannot be considered excessive, as Novostroevka was about seven miles from us, and the tailor came to fit us four times. When he came to try the things on and we squeezed ourselves into the tight trousers and jackets adorned28 with basting29 threads, mother always frowned contemptuously and expressed her surprise:
“Goodness knows what the fashions are coming to nowadays! I am positively30 ashamed to look at them. If brother were not used to Petersburg I would not get you fashionable clothes!”
Spiridon, relieved that the blame was thrown on the fashion and not on him, shrugged31 his shoulders and sighed, as though to say:
“There’s no help for it; it’s the spirit of the age!”
The excitement with which we awaited the arrival of our guest can only be compared with the strained suspense32 with which spiritualists wait from minute to minute the appearance of a ghost. Mother went about with a sick headache, and was continually melting into tears. I lost my appetite, slept badly, and did not learn my lessons. Even in my dreams I was haunted by an impatient longing33 to see a general—that is, a man with epaulettes and an embroidered34 collar sticking up to his ears, and with a naked sword in his hands, exactly like the one who hung over the sofa in the drawing-room and glared with terrible black eyes at everybody who dared to look at him. Pobyedimsky was the only one who felt himself in his element. He was neither terrified nor delighted, and merely from time to time, when he heard the history of the Gundasov family, said:
“Yes, it will be pleasant to have some one fresh to talk to.”
My tutor was looked upon among us as an exceptional nature. He was a young man of twenty, with a pimply35 face, shaggy locks, a low forehead, and an unusually long nose. His nose was so big that when he wanted to look close at anything he had to put his head on one side like a bird. To our thinking, there was not a man in the province cleverer, more cultivated, or more stylish36. He had left the high-school in the class next to the top, and had then entered a veterinary college, from which he was expelled before the end of the first half-year. The reason of his expulsion he carefully concealed37, which enabled any one who wished to do so to look upon my instructor38 as an injured and to some extent a mysterious person. He spoke39 little, and only of intellectual subjects; he ate meat during the fasts, and looked with contempt and condescension40 on the life going on around him, which did not prevent him, however, from taking presents, such as suits of clothes, from my mother, and drawing funny faces with red teeth on my kites. Mother disliked him for his “pride,” but stood in awe of his cleverness.
Our visitor did not keep us long waiting. At the beginning of May two wagon-loads of big boxes arrived from the station. These boxes looked so majestic41 that the drivers instinctively42 took off their hats as they lifted them down.
“There must be uniforms and gunpowder43 in those boxes,” I thought.
Why “gunpowder”? Probably the conception of a general was closely connected in my mind with cannons44 and gunpowder.
When I woke up on the morning of the tenth of May, nurse told me in a whisper that “my uncle had come.” I dressed rapidly, and, washing after a fashion, flew out of my bedroom without saying my prayers. In the vestibule I came upon a tall, solid gentleman with fashionable whiskers and a foppish45-looking overcoat. Half dead with devout awe, I went up to him and, remembering the ceremonial mother had impressed upon me, I scraped my foot before him, made a very low bow, and craned forward to kiss his hand; but the gentleman did not allow me to kiss his hand: he informed me that he was not my uncle, but my uncle’s footman, Pyotr. The appearance of this Pyotr, far better dressed than Pobyedimsky or me, excited in me the utmost astonishment46, which, to tell the truth, has lasted to this day. Can such dignified47, respectable people with stern and intellectual faces really be footmen? And what for?
Pyotr told me that my uncle was in the garden with my mother. I rushed into the garden.
Nature, knowing nothing of the history of the Gundasov family and the rank of my uncle, felt far more at ease and unconstrained than I. There was a clamour going on in the garden such as one only hears at fairs. Masses of starlings flitting through the air and hopping12 about the walks were noisily chattering48 as they hunted for cockchafers. There were swarms49 of sparrows in the lilac-bushes, which threw their tender, fragrant50 blossoms straight in one’s face. Wherever one turned, from every direction came the note of the golden oriole and the shrill51 cry of the hoopoe and the red-legged falcon52. At any other time I should have begun chasing dragon-flies or throwing stones at a crow which was sitting on a low mound53 under an aspen-tree, with his blunt beak54 turned away; but at that moment I was in no mood for mischief55. My heart was throbbing56, and I felt a cold sinking at my stomach; I was preparing myself to confront a gentleman with epaulettes, with a naked sword, and with terrible eyes!
But imagine my disappointment! A dapper little foppish gentleman in white silk trousers, with a white cap on his head, was walking beside my mother in the garden. With his hands behind him and his head thrown back, every now and then running on ahead of mother, he looked quite young. There was so much life and movement in his whole figure that I could only detect the treachery of age when I came close up behind and saw beneath his cap a fringe of close-cropped silver hair. Instead of the staid dignity and stolidity57 of a general, I saw an almost schoolboyish nimbleness; instead of a collar sticking up to his ears, an ordinary light blue necktie. Mother and my uncle were walking in the avenue talking together. I went softly up to them from behind, and waited for one of them to look round.
“What a delightful58 place you have here, Klavdia!” said my uncle. “How charming and lovely it is! Had I known before that you had such a charming place, nothing would have induced me to go abroad all these years.”
My uncle stooped down rapidly and sniffed59 at a tulip. Everything he saw moved him to rapture60 and excitement, as though he had never been in a garden on a sunny day before. The queer man moved about as though he were on springs, and chattered61 incessantly62, without allowing mother to utter a single word. All of a sudden Pobyedimsky came into sight from behind an elder-tree at the turn of the avenue. His appearance was so unexpected that my uncle positively started and stepped back a pace. On this occasion my tutor was attired63 in his best Inverness cape8 with sleeves, in which, especially back-view, he looked remarkably64 like a windmill. He had a solemn and majestic air. Pressing his hat to his bosom65 in Spanish style, he took a step towards my uncle and made a bow such as a marquis makes in a melodrama66, bending forward, a little to one side.
“I have the honour to present myself to your high excellency,” he said aloud: “the teacher and instructor of your nephew, formerly67 a pupil of the veterinary institute, and a nobleman by birth, Pobyedimsky!”
This politeness on the part of my tutor pleased my mother very much. She gave a smile, and waited in thrilled suspense to hear what clever thing he would say next; but my tutor, expecting his dignified address to be answered with equal dignity—that is, that my uncle would say “H’m!” like a general and hold out two fingers—was greatly confused and abashed when the latter laughed genially68 and shook hands with him. He muttered something incoherent, cleared his throat, and walked away.
“Come! isn’t that charming?” laughed my uncle. “Just look! he has made his little flourish and thinks he’s a very clever fellow! I do like that—upon my soul I do! What youthful aplomb69, what life in that foolish flourish! And what boy is this?” he asked, suddenly turning and looking at me.
“That is my Andryushenka,” my mother introduced me, flushing crimson70. “My consolation71...”
I made a scrape with my foot on the sand and dropped a low bow.
“A fine fellow... a fine fellow...” muttered my uncle, taking his hand from my lips and stroking me on the head. “So your name is Andrusha? Yes, yes.... H’m!... upon my soul!... Do you learn lessons?”
My mother, exaggerating and embellishing72 as all mothers do, began to describe my achievements in the sciences and the excellence73 of my behaviour, and I walked round my uncle and, following the ceremonial laid down for me, I continued making low bows. Then my mother began throwing out hints that with my remarkable74 abilities it would not be amiss for me to get a government nomination75 to the cadet school; but at the point when I was to have burst into tears and begged for my uncle’s protection, my uncle suddenly stopped and flung up his hands in amazement76.
“My goo-oodness! What’s that?” he asked.
Tatyana Ivanovna, the wife of our bailiff, Fyodor Petrovna, was coming towards us. She was carrying a starched77 white petticoat and a long ironing-board. As she passed us she looked shyly at the visitor through her eyelashes and flushed crimson.
“Wonders will never cease...” my uncle filtered through his teeth, looking after her with friendly interest. “You have a fresh surprise at every step, sister... upon my soul!”
“She’s a beauty...” said mother. “They chose her as a bride for Fyodor, though she lived over seventy miles from here....”
Not every one would have called Tatyana a beauty. She was a plump little woman of twenty, with black eyebrows78 and a graceful79 figure, always rosy80 and attractive-looking, but in her face and in her whole person there was not one striking feature, not one bold line to catch the eye, as though nature had lacked inspiration and confidence when creating her. Tatyana Ivanovna was shy, bashful, and modest in her behaviour; she moved softly and smoothly81, said little, seldom laughed, and her whole life was as regular as her face and as flat as her smooth, tidy hair. My uncle screwed up his eyes looking after her, and smiled. Mother looked intently at his smiling face and grew serious.
“And so, brother, you’ve never married!” she sighed.
“No; I’ve not married.”
“Why not?” asked mother softly.
“How can I tell you? It has happened so. In my youth I was too hard at work, I had no time to live, and when I longed to live—I looked round—and there I had fifty years on my back already. I was too late! However, talking about it... is depressing.”
My mother and my uncle both sighed at once and walked on, and I left them and flew off to find my tutor, that I might share my impressions with him. Pobyedimsky was standing82 in the middle of the yard, looking majestically83 at the heavens.
“One can see he is a man of culture!” he said, twisting his head round. “I hope we shall get on together.”
An hour later mother came to us.
“I am in trouble, my dears!” she began, sighing. “You see brother has brought a valet with him, and the valet, God bless him, is not one you can put in the kitchen or in the hall; we must give him a room apart. I can’t think what I am to do! I tell you what, children, couldn’t you move out somewhere—to Fyodor’s lodge84, for instance—and give your room to the valet? What do you say?”
We gave our ready consent, for living in the lodge was a great deal more free than in the house, under mother’s eye.
“It’s a nuisance, and that’s a fact!” said mother. “Brother says he won’t have dinner in the middle of the day, but between six and seven, as they do in Petersburg. I am simply distracted with worry! By seven o’clock the dinner will be done to rags in the oven. Really, men don’t understand anything about housekeeping, though they have so much intellect. Oh, dear! we shall have to cook two dinners every day! You will have dinner at midday as before, children, while your poor old mother has to wait till seven, for the sake of her brother.”
Then my mother heaved a deep sigh, bade me try and please my uncle, whose coming was a piece of luck for me for which we must thank God, and hurried off to the kitchen. Pobyedimsky and I moved into the lodge the same day. We were installed in a room which formed the passage from the entry to the bailiff’s bedroom.
Contrary to my expectations, life went on just as before, drearily85 and monotonously86, in spite of my uncle’s arrival and our move into new quarters. We were excused lessons “on account of the visitor.” Pobyedimsky, who never read anything or occupied himself in any way, spent most of his time sitting on his bed, with his long nose thrust into the air, thinking. Sometimes he would get up, try on his new suit, and sit down again to relapse into contemplation and silence. Only one thing worried him, the flies, which he used mercilessly to squash between his hands. After dinner he usually “rested,” and his snores were a cause of annoyance87 to the whole household. I ran about the garden from morning to night, or sat in the lodge sticking my kites together. For the first two or three weeks we did not see my uncle often. For days together he sat in his own room working, in spite of the flies and the heat. His extraordinary capacity for sitting as though glued to his table produced upon us the effect of an inexplicable88 conjuring89 trick. To us idlers, knowing nothing of systematic90 work, his industry seemed simply miraculous91. Getting up at nine, he sat down to his table, and did not leave it till dinner-time; after dinner he set to work again, and went on till late at night. Whenever I peeped through the keyhole I invariably saw the same thing: my uncle sitting at the table working. The work consisted in his writing with one hand while he turned over the leaves of a book with the other, and, strange to say, he kept moving all over—swinging his leg as though it were a pendulum92, whistling, and nodding his head in time. He had an extremely careless and frivolous93 expression all the while, as though he were not working, but playing at noughts94 and crosses. I always saw him wearing a smart short jacket and a jauntily95 tied cravat96, and he always smelt97, even through the keyhole, of delicate feminine perfumery. He only left his room for dinner, but he ate little.
“I can’t make brother out!” mother complained of him. “Every day we kill a turkey and pigeons on purpose for him, I make a compote with my own hands, and he eats a plateful of broth2 and a bit of meat the size of a finger and gets up from the table. I begin begging him to eat; he comes back and drinks a glass of milk. And what is there in that, in a glass of milk? It’s no better than washing up water! You may die of a diet like that.... If I try to persuade him, he laughs and makes a joke of it.... No; he does not care for our fare, poor dear!”
We spent the evenings far more gaily98 than the days. As a rule, by the time the sun was setting and long shadows were lying across the yard, we—that is, Tatyana Ivanovna, Pobyedimsky, and I—were sitting on the steps of the lodge. We did not talk till it grew quite dusk. And, indeed, what is one to talk of when every subject has been talked over already? There was only one thing new, my uncle’s arrival, and even that subject was soon exhausted. My tutor never took his eyes off Tatyana Ivanovna ‘s face, and frequently heaved deep sighs.... At the time I did not understand those sighs, and did not try to fathom99 their significance; now they explain a great deal to me.
When the shadows merged100 into one thick mass of shade, the bailiff Fyodor would come in from shooting or from the field. This Fyodor gave me the impression of being a fierce and even a terrible man. The son of a Russianized gipsy from Izyumskoe, swarthy-faced and curly-headed, with big black eyes and a matted beard, he was never called among our Kotchuevko peasants by any name but “The Devil.” And, indeed, there was a great deal of the gipsy about him apart from his appearance. He could not, for instance, stay at home, and went off for days together into the country or into the woods to shoot. He was gloomy, ill-humoured, taciturn, was afraid of nobody, and refused to recognize any authority. He was rude to mother, addressed me familiarly, and was contemptuous of Pobyedimsky’s learning. All this we forgave him, looking upon him as a hot-tempered and nervous man; mother liked him because, in spite of his gipsy nature, he was ideally honest and industrious101. He loved his Tatyana Ivanovna passionately102, like a gipsy, but this love took in him a gloomy form, as though it cost him suffering. He was never affectionate to his wife in our presence, but simply rolled his eyes angrily at her and twisted his mouth.
When he came in from the fields he would noisily and angrily put down his gun, would come out to us on the steps, and sit down beside his wife. After resting a little, he would ask his wife a few questions about household matters, and then sink into silence.
“Let us sing,” I would suggest.
My tutor would tune103 his guitar, and in a deep deacon’s bass104 strike up “In the midst of the valley.” We would begin singing. My tutor took the bass, Fyodor sang in a hardly audible tenor105, while I sang soprano in unison106 with Tatyana Ivanovna.
When the whole sky was covered with stars and the frogs had left off croaking107, they would bring in our supper from the kitchen. We went into the lodge and sat down to the meal. My tutor and the gipsy ate greedily, with such a sound that it was hard to tell whether it was the bones crunching108 or their jaws109, and Tatyana Ivanovna and I scarcely succeeded in getting our share. After supper the lodge was plunged110 in deep sleep.
One evening, it was at the end of May, we were sitting on the steps, waiting for supper. A shadow suddenly fell across us, and Gundasov stood before us as though he had sprung out of the earth. He looked at us for a long time, then clasped his hands and laughed gaily.
“An idyll!” he said. “They sing and dream in the moonlight! It’s charming, upon my soul! May I sit down and dream with you?”
We looked at one another and said nothing. My uncle sat down on the bottom step, yawned, and looked at the sky. A silence followed. Pobyedimsky, who had for a long time been wanting to talk to somebody fresh, was delighted at the opportunity, and was the first to break the silence. He had only one subject for intellectual conversation, the epizootic diseases. It sometimes happens that after one has been in an immense crowd, only some one countenance111 of the thousands remains112 long imprinted113 on the memory; in the same way, of all that Pobyedimsky had heard, during his six months at the veterinary institute, he remembered only one passage:
“The epizootics do immense damage to the stock of the country. It is the duty of society to work hand in hand with the government in waging war upon them.”
Before saying this to Gundasov, my tutor cleared his throat three times, and several times, in his excitement, wrapped himself up in his Inverness. On hearing about the epizootics, my uncle looked intently at my tutor and made a sound between a snort and a laugh.
“Upon my soul, that’s charming!” he said, scrutinizing114 us as though we were mannequins. “This is actually life.... This is really what reality is bound to be. Why are you silent, Pelagea Ivanovna?” he said, addressing Tatyana Ivanovna.
She coughed, overcome with confusion.
“Talk, my friends, sing... play!... Don’t lose time. You know, time, the rascal115, runs away and waits for no man! Upon my soul, before you have time to look round, old age is upon you.... Then it is too late to live! That’s how it is, Pelagea Ivanovna.... We mustn’t sit still and be silent....”
At that point supper was brought out from the kitchen. Uncle went into the lodge with us, and to keep us company ate five curd116 fritters and the wing of a duck. He ate and looked at us. He was touched and delighted by us all. Whatever silly nonsense my precious tutor talked, and whatever Tatyana Ivanovna did, he thought charming and delightful. When after supper Tatyana Ivanovna sat quietly down and took up her knitting, he kept his eyes fixed117 on her fingers and chatted away without ceasing.
“Make all the haste you can to live, my friends...” he said. “God forbid you should sacrifice the present for the future! There is youth, health, fire in the present; the future is smoke and deception118! As soon as you are twenty begin to live.”
Tatyana Ivanovna dropped a knitting-needle. My uncle jumped up, picked up the needle, and handed it to Tatyana Ivanovna with a bow, and for the first time in my life I learnt that there were people in the world more refined than Pobyedimsky.
“Yes...” my uncle went on, “love, marry, do silly things. Foolishness is a great deal more living and healthy than our straining and striving after rational life.”
My uncle talked a great deal, so much that he bored us; I sat on a box listening to him and dropping to sleep. It distressed119 me that he did not once all the evening pay attention to me. He left the lodge at two o’clock, when, overcome with drowsiness120, I was sound asleep.
From that time forth121 my uncle took to coming to the lodge every evening. He sang with us, had supper with us, and always stayed on till two o’clock in the morning, chatting incessantly, always about the same subject. His evening and night work was given up, and by the end of June, when the privy councillor had learned to eat mother’s turkey and compote, his work by day was abandoned too. My uncle tore himself away from his table and plunged into “life.” In the daytime he walked up and down the garden, he whistled to the workmen and hindered them from working, making them tell him their various histories. When his eye fell on Tatyana Ivanovna he ran up to her, and, if she were carrying anything, offered his assistance, which embarrassed her dreadfully.
As the summer advanced my uncle grew more and more frivolous, volatile122, and careless. Pobyedimsky was completely disillusioned123 in regard to him.
“He is too one-sided,” he said. “There is nothing to show that he is in the very foremost ranks of the service. And he doesn’t even know how to talk. At every word it’s ‘upon my soul.’ No, I don’t like him!”
From the time that my uncle began visiting the lodge there was a noticeable change both in Fyodor and my tutor. Fyodor gave up going out shooting, came home early, sat more taciturn than ever, and stared with particular ill-humour at his wife. In my uncle’s presence my tutor gave up talking about epizootics, frowned, and even laughed sarcastically124.
“Here comes our little bantam cock!” he growled125 on one occasion when my uncle was coming into the lodge.
I put down this change in them both to their being offended with my uncle. My absent-minded uncle mixed up their names, and to the very day of his departure failed to distinguish which was my tutor and which was Tatyana Ivanovna’s husband. Tatyana Ivanovna herself he sometimes called Nastasya, sometimes Pelagea, and sometimes Yevdokia. Touched and delighted by us, he laughed and behaved exactly as though in the company of small children.... All this, of course, might well offend young men. It was not a case of offended pride, however, but, as I realize now, subtler feelings.
I remember one evening I was sitting on the box struggling with sleep. My eyelids126 felt glued together and my body, tired out by running about all day, drooped127 sideways. But I struggled against sleep and tried to look on. It was about midnight. Tatyana Ivanovna, rosy and unassuming as always, was sitting at a little table sewing at her husband’s shirt. Fyodor, sullen128 and gloomy, was staring at her from one corner, and in the other sat Pobyedimsky, snorting angrily and retreating into the high collar of his shirt. My uncle was walking up and down the room thinking. Silence reigned129; nothing was to be heard but the rustling130 of the linen131 in Tatyana Ivanovna’s hands. Suddenly my uncle stood still before Tatyana Ivanovna, and said:
“You are all so young, so fresh, so nice, you live so peacefully in this quiet place, that I envy you. I have become attached to your way of life here; my heart aches when I remember I have to go away.... You may believe in my sincerity132!”
Sleep closed my eyes and I lost myself. When some sound waked me, my uncle was standing before Tatyana Ivanovna, looking at her with a softened133 expression. His cheeks were flushed.
“My life has been wasted,” he said. “I have not lived! Your young face makes me think of my own lost youth, and I should be ready to sit here watching you to the day of my death. It would be a pleasure to me to take you with me to Petersburg.”
“What for?” Fyodor asked in a husky voice.
“I should put her under a glass case on my work-table. I should admire her and show her to other people. You know, Pelagea Ivanovna, we have no women like you there. Among us there is wealth, distinction, sometimes beauty, but we have not this true sort of life, this healthy serenity134....”
My uncle sat down facing Tatyana Ivanovna and took her by the hand.
“So you won’t come with me to Petersburg?” he laughed. “In that case give me your little hand.... A charming little hand!... You won’t give it? Come, you miser135! let me kiss it, anyway....”
At that moment there was the scrape of a chair. Fyodor jumped up, and with heavy, measured steps went up to his wife. His face was pale, grey, and quivering. He brought his fist down on the table with a bang, and said in a hollow voice:
“I won’t allow it!”
At the same moment Pobyedimsky jumped up from his chair. He, too, pale and angry, went up to Tatyana Ivanovna, and he, too, struck the table with his fist.
“I... I won’t allow it!” he said.
“What, what’s the matter?” asked my uncle in surprise.
“I won’t allow it!” repeated Fyodor, banging on the table.
My uncle jumped up and bIlinked nervously136. He tried to speak, but in his amazement and alarm could not utter a word; with an embarrassed smile, he shuffled137 out of the lodge with the hurried step of an old man, leaving his hat behind. When, a little later, my mother ran into the lodge, Fyodor and Pobyedimsky were still hammering on the table like blacksmiths and repeating, “I won’t allow it!”
“What has happened here?” asked mother. “Why has my brother been taken ill? What’s the matter?”
Looking at Tatyana’s pale, frightened face and at her infuriated husband, mother probably guessed what was the matter. She sighed and shook her head.
“Come! give over banging on the table!” she said. “Leave off, Fyodor! And why are you thumping138, Yegor Alexyevitch? What have you got to do with it?”
Pobyedimsky was startled and confused. Fyodor looked intently at him, then at his wife, and began walking about the room. When mother had gone out of the lodge, I saw what for long afterwards I looked upon as a dream. I saw Fyodor seize my tutor, lift him up in the air, and thrust him out of the door.
When I woke up in the morning my tutor’s bed was empty. To my question where he was nurse told me in a whisper that he had been taken off early in the morning to the hospital, as his arm was broken. Distressed at this intelligence and remembering the scene of the previous evening, I went out of doors. It was a grey day. The sky was covered with storm-clouds and there was a wind blowing dust, bits of paper, and feathers along the ground.... It felt as though rain were coming. There was a look of boredom139 in the servants and in the animals. When I went into the house I was told not to make such a noise with my feet, as mother was ill and in bed with a migraine. What was I to do? I went outside the gate, sat down on the little bench there, and fell to trying to discover the meaning of what I had seen and heard the day before. From our gate there was a road which, passing the forge and the pool which never dried up, ran into the main road. I looked at the telegraph-posts, about which clouds of dust were whirling, and at the sleepy birds sitting on the wires, and I suddenly felt so dreary140 that I began to cry.
A dusty wagonette crammed141 full of townspeople, probably going to visit the shrine142, drove by along the main road. The wagonette was hardly out of sight when a light chaise with a pair of horses came into view. In it was Akim Nikititch, the police inspector143, standing up and holding on to the coachman’s belt. To my great surprise, the chaise turned into our road and flew by me in at the gate. While I was puzzling why the police inspector had come to see us, I heard a noise, and a carriage with three horses came into sight on the road. In the carriage stood the police captain, directing his coachman towards our gate.
“And why is he coming?” I thought, looking at the dusty police captain. “Most probably Pobyedimsky has complained of Fyodor to him, and they have come to take him to prison.”
But the mystery was not so easily solved. The police inspector and the police captain were only the first instalment, for five minutes had scarcely passed when a coach drove in at our gate. It dashed by me so swiftly that I could only get a glimpse of a red beard.
Lost in conjecture144 and full of misgivings145, I ran to the house. In the passage first of all I saw mother; she was pale and looking with horror towards the door, from which came the sounds of men’s voices. The visitors had taken her by surprise in the very throes of migraine.
“Who has come, mother?” I asked.
“Sister,” I heard my uncle’s voice, “will you send in something to eat for the governor and me?”
“It is easy to say ‘something to eat,’” whispered my mother, numb146 with horror. “What have I time to get ready now? I am put to shame in my old age!”
Mother clutched at her head and ran into the kitchen. The governor’s sudden visit stirred and overwhelmed the whole household. A ferocious147 slaughter148 followed. A dozen fowls149, five turkeys, eight ducks, were killed, and in the fluster150 the old gander, the progenitor151 of our whole flock of geese and a great favourite of mother’s, was beheaded. The coachmen and the cook seemed frenzied152, and slaughtered153 birds at random154, without distinction of age or breed. For the sake of some wretched sauce a pair of valuable pigeons, as dear to me as the gander was to mother, were sacrificed. It was a long while before I could forgive the governor their death.
In the evening, when the governor and his suite155, after a sumptuous156 dinner, had got into their carriages and driven away, I went into the house to look at the remains of the feast. Glancing into the drawing-room from the passage, I saw my uncle and my mother. My uncle, with his hands behind his back, was walking nervously up and down close to the wall, shrugging his shoulders. Mother, exhausted and looking much thinner, was sitting on the sofa and watching his movements with heavy eyes.
“Excuse me, sister, but this won’t do at all,” my uncle grumbled157, wrinkling up his face. “I introduced the governor to you, and you didn’t offer to shake hands. You covered him with confusion, poor fellow! No, that won’t do.... Simplicity158 is a very good thing, but there must be limits to it.... Upon my soul! And then that dinner! How can one give people such things? What was that mess, for instance, that they served for the fourth course?”
“That was duck with sweet sauce...” mother answered softly.
“Duck! Forgive me, sister, but... but here I’ve got heartburn! I am ill!”
My uncle made a sour, tearful face, and went on:
“It was the devil sent that governor! As though I wanted his visit! Pff!... heartburn! I can’t work or sleep... I am completely out of sorts.... And I can’t understand how you can live here without anything to do... in this boredom! Here I’ve got a pain coming under my shoulder-blade!...”
My uncle frowned, and walked about more rapidly than ever.
“Brother,” my mother inquired softly, “what would it cost to go abroad?”
“At least three thousand...” my uncle answered in a tearful voice. “I would go, but where am I to get it? I haven’t a farthing. Pff!... heartburn!”
My uncle stopped to look dejectedly at the grey, overcast159 prospect160 from the window, and began pacing to and fro again.
A silence followed.... Mother looked a long while at the ikon, pondering something, then she began crying, and said:
“I’ll give you the three thousand, brother....”
Three days later the majestic boxes went off to the station, and the privy councillor drove off after them. As he said good-bye to mother he shed tears, and it was a long time before he took his lips from her hands, but when he got into his carriage his face beamed with childlike pleasure.... Radiant and happy, he settled himself comfortably, kissed his hand to my mother, who was crying, and all at once his eye was caught by me. A look of the utmost astonishment came into his face.
“What boy is this?” he asked.
My mother, who had declared my uncle’s coming was a piece of luck for which I must thank God, was bitterly mortified161 at this question. I was in no mood for questions. I looked at my uncle’s happy face, and for some reason I felt fearfully sorry for him. I could not resist jumping up to the carriage and hugging that frivolous man, weak as all men are. Looking into his face and wanting to say something pleasant, I asked:
“Uncle, have you ever been in a battle?”
“Ah, the dear boy...” laughed my uncle, kissing me. “A charming boy, upon my soul! How natural, how living it all is, upon my soul!...”
The carriage set off.... I looked after him, and long afterwards that farewell “upon my soul” was ringing in my ears.
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1
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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2
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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5
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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7
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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8
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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9
cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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10
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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11
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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13
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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14
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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15
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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16
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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18
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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19
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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20
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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21
inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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23
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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24
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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25
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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26
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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27
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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29
basting
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| n.疏缝；疏缝的针脚；疏缝用线；涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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30
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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31
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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32
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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33
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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34
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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pimply
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| adj.肿泡的；有疙瘩的；多粉刺的；有丘疹的 | |
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36
stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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38
instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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39
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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40
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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41
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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42
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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43
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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44
cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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45
foppish
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| adj.矫饰的，浮华的 | |
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46
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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47
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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48
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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49
swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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50
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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51
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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52
falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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53
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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54
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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55
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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56
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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57
stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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58
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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59
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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60
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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61
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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62
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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63
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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65
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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66
melodrama
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| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
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67
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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68
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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69
aplomb
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| n.沉着，镇静 | |
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70
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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71
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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72
embellishing
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| v.美化( embellish的现在分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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73
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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74
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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75
nomination
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| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
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76
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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77
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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79
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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80
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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81
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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82
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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83
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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84
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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85
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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86
monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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87
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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88
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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89
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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90
systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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91
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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92
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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93
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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94
noughts
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| 零，无，没有( nought的名词复数 ) | |
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95
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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96
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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97
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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98
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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99
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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100
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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101
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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102
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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103
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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104
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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105
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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106
unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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107
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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108
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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109
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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110
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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111
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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112
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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113
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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114
scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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115
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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116
curd
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| n.凝乳；凝乳状物 | |
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117
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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118
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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119
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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120
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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121
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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122
volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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123
disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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124
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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125
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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126
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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127
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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129
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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130
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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131
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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132
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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133
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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134
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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135
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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136
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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137
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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138
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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139
boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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140
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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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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142
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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143
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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144
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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145
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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146
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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147
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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148
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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149
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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150
fluster
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| adj.慌乱，狼狈，混乱，激动 | |
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151
progenitor
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| n.祖先，先驱 | |
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152
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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153
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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155
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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156
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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157
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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158
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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159
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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160
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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161
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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