The morning after the day we have described, at ten o’clock, Lavretsky was mounting the steps of the Kalitins’ house. He was met by Lisa coming out in her hat and gloves.
“Where are you going?” he asked her.
“To service. It is Sunday.”
“Why do you go to church?”
Lisa looked at him in silent amazement1.
“I beg your pardon,” said Lavretsky; “I— I did not mean to say that; I have come to say good-bye to you, I am starting for my village in an hour.”
“Is it far from here?” asked Lisa.
“Twenty miles.”
Lenotchka made her appearance in the doorway2, escorted by a maid.
“Mind you don’t forget us,” observed Lisa, and went down the steps.
“And don’t you forget me. And listen,” he added, “you are going to church; while you are there, pray for me, too.”
Lisa stopped short and turned round to him: “Certainly,” she said, looking him straight in the face, “I will pray for you too. Come, Lenotchka.”
In the drawing-room Lavretsky found Marya Dmitrievna alone. She was redolent of eau de Cologne and mint. She had, as she said, a headache, and had passed a restless night. She received him with her usual languid graciousness and gradually fell into conversation.
“Vladimir Nikolaitch is really a delightful3 young man, don’t you think so?” she asked him.
“What Vladimir Nikolaitch?”
“Panshin to be sure, who was here yesterday. He took a tremendous fancy to you; I will tell you a secret, mon cher cousin, he is simply crazy about my Lisa. Well, he is of good family, has a capital position in the service, and a clever fellow, a kammer-yunker, and if it is God’s will, I for my part, as a mother, shall be well pleased. My responsibility of course is immense; the happiness of children depends, no doubt, on parts; still I may say, up till now, for better or for worse I have done everything, I alone have been everywhere with them, that is to say, I have educated my children and taught them everything myself. Now, indeed, I have written for a French governess from Madame Boluce.”
Marya Dmitrievna launched into a description of her cares and anxieties and maternal4 sentiments. Lavretsky listened in silence, turning his hat in his hands. His cold, weary glance embarrassed the gossiping lady.
“And do you like Lisa?” she asked.
“Lisaveta Mihalovna is an excellent girl,” replied Lavretsky, and he got up, took his leave, and went off to Marfa Timofyevna. Marya Dmitrievna looked after him in high displeasure, and thought, “What a dolt5, a regular peasant! Well, now I understand why his wife could not remain faithful to him.”
Marfa Timofyevna was sitting in her room, surrounded by her little court. It consisted of five creatures almost equally near to her heart; a big-cropped, learned bullfinch, which she had taken a fancy to because he had lost his accomplishments6 of whistling and drawing water; a very timid and peaceable little dog, Roska; an ill-tempered cat, Matross; a dark-faced, agile7 little girl nine years old, with big eyes and a sharp nose, call Shurotchka; and an elderly woman of fifty-five, in a white cap and a cinnamon-coloured abbreviated8 jacket, over a dark skirt, by name, Nastasya Karpovna Ogarkov. Shurotchka was an orphan9 of the tradesman class. Marfa Timofyevna had taken her to her heart like Roska, from compassion10; she had found the little dog and the little girl too in the street; both were thin and hungry, both were being drenched11 by the autumn rain; no one came in search of Roska, and Shurotchka was given up to Marfa Timofyevna with positive eagerness by her uncle, a drunken shoemaker, who did not get enough to eat himself, and did not feed his niece, but beat her over the head with his last. With Nastasya Karpovna, Marfa Timofyevna had made acquaintance on a pilgrimage at a monastery12; she had gone up to her at the church (Marfa Timofyevna took a fancy to her because in her own words she said her prayers so prettily) and had addressed her and invited her to a cup of tea. From that day she never parted from her.
Nastasya Karpovna was a woman of the most cheerful and gentle disposition13, a widow without children, of a poor noble family; she had a round grey head, soft white hands, a soft face with large mild features, and a rather absurd turned-up nose; she stood in awe14 of Marfa Timofyevna, and the latter was very fond of her, though she laughed at her susceptibility. She had a soft place in her heart for every young man, and could not help blushing like a girl at the most innocent joke. Her whole fortune consisted of only 1200 roubles; she lived at Marfa Timofyevna’s expense, but on an equal footing with her: Marfa Timofyevna would not have put up with any servility.
“Ah! Fedya,” she began, directly she saw him, “last night you did not see my family, you must admire them, we are all here together for tea; this is our second, holiday tea. You can make friends with them all; only Shurotchka won’t let you, and the cat will scratch. Are you starting to-day?”
“Yes.” Lavretsky sat down on a low seat, “I have just said good-bye to Marya Dmitrievna. I saw Lisaveta Mihalovna too.”
“Call her Lisa, my dear fellow. Mihalovna indeed to you! But sit still, or you will break Shurotchka’s little chair.”
“She has gone to church,” continued Lavretsky. “Is she religious?”
“Yes, Fedya, very much so. More than you and I, Fedya.”
“Aren’t you religious then?” lisped Nastasya Karpovna. “To-day, you have not been to the early service, but you are going to the late.”
“No, not at all; you will go alone; I have grown too lazy, my dear,” relied Marfa Timofyevna. “Already I am indulging myself with tea.” She addressed Nastasya Karpovna in the singular, though she treated her as an equal. She was not a Pestov for nothing: three Pestovs had been on the death-list of Ivan the Terrible, Marfa Timofyevna was well aware of the fact.
“Tell me please,” began Lavretsky again, “Marya Dmitrievna has just been talking to me about this — what’s his name? Panshin. What sort of a man is he?”
“What a chatterbox she is, Lord save us!” muttered Marfa Timofyevna. “She told you, I suppose, as a secret that he has turned up as a suitor. She might have whispered it to her priest’s son; no, he’s not good enough for her, it seems. And so far there’s nothing to tell, thank God, but already she’s gossiping about it.”
“Why thank God?” asked Lavretsky.
“Because I don’t like the fine young gentleman; and so what is there to be glad of in it?”
“You don’t like him?”
“No, he can’t fascinate every one. He must be satisfied with Nastasya Karpovna’s being in love with him.”
The poor widow was utterly15 dismayed.
“How can you, Marfa Timofyevna? you’ve no conscience!” she cried, and a crimson16 flush instantly overspread her face and neck.
“And he knows, to be sure, the rogue,” Marfa Timofyevna interrupted her, “he knows how to captivate her; he made her a present of a snuff-box. Fedya, ask her for a pinch of snuff; you will see what a splendid snuff-box it is; on the lid a hussar on horseback. You’d better not try to defend yourself, my dear.”
Nastasya Karpovna could only fling up her hands.
“Well, but Lisa,” inquired Lavretsky, “is she indifferent to him?”
“She seems to like him, but there, God knows! The heart of another, you know, is a dark forest, and a girl’s more than any. Shurotchka’s heart, for instance — I defy you to understand it! What makes her hide herself and not come out ever since you came in?”
Shurotchka choked with suppressed laughter and skipped out of the room. Lavretsky rose from his place.
“Yes,” he said in an uncertain voice, “there is no deciphering a girl’s heart.”
He began to say good-bye.
“Well, shall we see you again soon?” inquired Marfa Timofyevna.
“Very likely, aunt: it’s not far off, you know.”
“Yes, to be sure you are going to Vassilyevskoe. You don’t care to stay at Lavriky: well, that’s your own affair, only mind you go and say a prayer at our mother’s grave, and our grandmother’s too while you are there. Out there in foreign parts you have picked up all kinds of ideas, but who knows? Perhaps even in their graves they will feel that you have come to them. And, Fedya, don’t forget to have a service sung too for Glafira Petrovna; here’s a silver rouble for you. Take it, take it, I want to pay for a service for her. I had no love for her in her lifetime, but all the same there’s no denying she was a girl of character. She was a clever creature; and a good friend to you. And now go and God be with you, before I weary you.”
And Marfa Timofyevna embraced her nephew.
“And Lisa’s not going to marry Panshin; don’t you trouble yourself; that’s not the sort of husband she deserves.”
“Oh, I’m not troubling myself,” answered Lavretsky, and went away.
收听单词发音 |
1
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
maternal
|
|
| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
dolt
|
|
| n.傻瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
accomplishments
|
|
| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
agile
|
|
| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
abbreviated
|
|
| adj. 简短的，省略的 动词abbreviate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
orphan
|
|
| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
drenched
|
|
| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
monastery
|
|
| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |