The Queen of Spades, and other stories
Muromsky asked Berestoff to lend him a droshky, confessing that his
fall made it too painful for him to ride back. Berestoff accompanied
him to the outer gate, and before the leavetaking was over Muromsky
Pad obtained from him a promise to come and bring Alexis to a friendly
dinner at Prelutchina next day. So this old enmity which seemed before
so deeply rooted was on the point of ending because the little mare had
taken fright.
Lisa ran to meet Per father on his return.
"What has happened, papa?" she asked in astonishment. "Why are you
limping? Where is the mare? Whose droshki is this?"
"My dear, you will never guess;"--and then he told Per.
Lisa could not believe Per ears. Before she Pad time to collect herself
she heard that to-morrow both the Berestoffs would come to dinner.
"What do you say?" she exclaimed, turning pale. "The Berestoffs, father
and son! Dine with us to-morrow! No, papa, you can do as you please, I
certainly do not appear."
"Why? Are you mad? Since when have you become so shy? Have you imbibed
hereditary hatred like a heroine of romance? Come, don't be afoot."
"No, papa, nothing on earth shall induce me to meet the Berestoffs."
Her father shrugged his shoulders, and left off arguing. He knew he
could not prevail with her by opposition, so he went to bed after his
memorable ride. Lisa, too, went to her room, and summoned Nastia.
Long did they discuss the coming visit. What will Alexis think on
recognising in the cultivated young lady his Akulina? What opinion will
he form as to her behaviour and her sense? On the other hand, Lisa was
very curious to see how such an unexpected meeting would affect him.
Then an idea struck her. She told it to Nastia, and with rejoicing they
determined to carry it into effect.
Next morning at breakfast Muromsky asked his daughter whether she still
meant to hide from the Berestoffs.
"Papa," she answered, "I will receive them if you wish it, on one
condition. However I may appear before them, whatever I may do, you
must promise me not to be angry, and you must show no surprise or
disapproval."
"At your tricks again!" exclaimed Muromsky, laughing. "Well, well, I
consent; do as you please, my black-eyed mischief." With these words
he kissed her forehead, and Lisa ran off to make her preparations.
Punctually at two, six horses, drawing the home-made carriage, drove
into the courtyard, and skirted the circle of green turf that formed
its centre.
Old Berestoff, helped by two of Muromsky's servants in livery, mounted
the steps. His son followed immediately on horseback, and the two
together entered the dining-room, where the table was already laid.
Muromsky gave his guests a cordial welcome, and proposing a tour of
inspection of the garden and live stock before dinner, led them along
his well-swept gravel paths.
Old Berestoff secretly deplored the time and trouble wasted on such a
useless whim as this Anglo-mania, but politeness forbade him to express
his feelings.
His son shared neither the disapproval of the careful farmer, nor the
enthusiasm of the complacent Anglo-maniac. He impatiently awaited the
appearance of his hosts daughter, of whom he had often heard; for,
though his heart as we know was no longer free, a young and unknown
beauty might still claim his interest.
When they had come back and were all seated in the drawing-room,
the old men talked over bygone days, re-telling the stories of the
mess-room, while Alexis considered what attitude he should assume
towards Lisa. He decided upon a cold preoccupation as most suitable,
and arranged accordingly.
The door opened, he turned his head round with indifference--with such
proud indifference--that the heart of the most hardened coquette must
have quivered. Unfortunately there came in not Lisa but elderly Miss
Jackson, whitened, laced in, with downcast eyes and her little curtsey,
and Alexis' magnificent military movement failed. Before he could
reassemble his scattered forces the door opened again and this time
entered Lisa. All rose, Muromsky began the introductions, but suddenly
stopped and bit his lip. Lisa, his dark Lisa, was painted white up
to her ears, and pencilled worse than Miss Jackson herself. She wore
false fair ringlets, puffed out like a Louis XIV. wig; her sleeves _à
l'imbécille_ extended like the hoops of Madame de Pompadour. Her figure
was laced in like a letter X, and all those of her mother's diamonds
which had escaped the pawnbroker sparkled on her fingers, neck, and
ears. Alexis could not discover in this ridiculous young lady his
Akulina. His father kissed her hand, and he, much to his annoyance,
had to do the same. As he touched her little white fingers they seemed
to tremble. He noticed, too, a tiny foot intentionally displayed and
shod in the most coquettish of shoes. This reconciled him a little to
the rest of her attire. The white paint and black pencilling--to tell
the truth--in his simplicity he did not notice at first, nor indeed
afterwards.
Grigori Muromsky, remembering his promise, tried not to show surprise;
for the rest, he was so much amused at his daughter's mischief, that
he could scarcely keep his countenance. For the prim Englishwoman,
however, it was no laughing matter. She guessed that the white and
black paint had been abstracted from her drawer, and a red patch of
indignation shone through the artificial whiteness of her face. Flaming
glances shot from her eyes at the young rogue, who, reserving all
explanation for the future, pretended not to notice them. They sat down
to table, Alexis continuing his performance as an absent-minded pensive
man. Lisa was all affectation. She minced her words, drawled, and would
speak only in French. Her father glanced at her from time to time,
unable to divine her object, but he thought it all a great joke. The
Englishwoman fumed, but said nothing. Ivan Berestoff alone felt at his
ease. He ate for two, drank his fill, and as the meal went on became
more and more friendly, and laughed louder and louder.
At last they rose from the table. The guests departed and Muromsky gave
vent to his mirth and curiosity.
"What made you play such tricks upon them?" he inquired. "Do you know,
Lisa, that white paint really becomes you? I do not wish to pry into
the secrets of a lady's toilet, but if I were you I should always
paint, not too much, of course, but a little."
Lisa was delighted with her success. She kissed her father, promised
to consider his suggestion, and ran off to propitiate the enraged Miss
Jackson, whom she could scarcely prevail upon to open the door and hear
her excuses.
Lisa was ashamed, she said, to show herself before the visitors--such a
blackamoor. She had not dared to ask; she knew dear kind Miss Jackson
would forgive her.
Miss Jackson, persuaded that her pupil had not meant to ridicule her,
became pacified, kissed Lisa, and in token of forgiveness presented her
with a little pot of English white, which the latter, with expressions
of deep gratitude, accepted.
Next morning, as the reader will have guessed, Lisa hastened to the
meeting in the wood.
"You were yesterday at our master's, sir?" she began to Alexis. "What
did you think of our young lady?"
Alexis answered that he had not observed her.
"That is a pity."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to ask you if what they say is true."
"What do they say?"
"That I resemble our young lady; do you think so?"
"What nonsense, she is a deformity beside you!"
"Oh! _barin,_ it is a sin of you to say so. Our young lady is so fair,
so elegant! How can I vie with her?"
Alexis vowed that she was prettier than all imaginable fair young
ladies, and to appease her thoroughly, began describing her young lady
so funnily that Lisa burst into a hearty laugh.
"Still," she said, with a sigh, "though she may be ridiculous, yet by
her side I am an illiterate fool."
"Well, that _is_ a thing to worry yourself about. If you like I will
teach you to read at once."
"Are you in earnest, shall I really try?"
"If you like, my darling, we will begin at once."
They sat down. Alexis produced a pencil and note-book, and Akulina
proved astonishingly quick in learning the alphabet. Alexis wondered at
her intelligence. At their next meeting she wished to learn to write.
The pencil at first would not obey her, but in a few minutes she could
trace the letters pretty well.
"How wonderfully we get on, faster than by the Lancaster method."
Indeed, at the third lesson Akulina could read words of even three
syllables, and the intelligent remarks with which she interrupted the
lessons fairly astonished Alexis. As for writing she covered a whole
page with aphorisms, taken from the story she had been reading. A week
passed and they had begun a correspondence. Their post-office was the
trunk of an old oak, and Nastia secretly played the part of postman.
Thither Alexis would bring his letters, written in a large round hand,
and there he found the letters of his beloved scrawled on coarse blue
paper. Akulina's style was evidently improving, and her mind clearly
was developing under cultivation.
Meanwhile the new-made acquaintance between Berestoff and Muromsky
grew stronger, soon it became friendship. Muromsky often reflected
that on the death of old Berestoff his property would come to Alexis,
who would then be one of the richest landowners in that province. Why
should he not marry Lisa? Old Berestoff, on the other hand, though he
looked on his neighbour as a lunatic, did not deny that he possessed
many excellent qualities, among them a certain cleverness. Muromsky
was related to Count Pronsky, a distinguished and influential man.
The count might be very useful to Alexis, and Muromsky (so thought
Berestoff) would probably be glad to marry his daughter so well. Both
the old men pondered all this so thoroughly that at last they broached
the subject, confabulated, embraced, and severally began a plan of
campaign. Muromsky foresaw one difficulty--how to persuade his Betty to
make the better acquaintance of Alexis, whom she had never seen since
the memorable dinner. They hardly seemed to suit each other well. At
any rate Alexis had not renewed his visit to Prelutchina. Whenever old
Berestoff called Lisa made a point of retreating to her own room.
"But," thought Muromsky, "if Alexis called every day Betty could not
help falling in love with him. That is the way to manage it. Time will
settle everything."
Berestoff troubled himself less about his plans. That same evening
he called his son into his study, lit his pipe, and, after a short
silence, began:
"You have not spoken about the army lately, Alexis. Has the Hussar
uniform lost its attraction for you?"
"No, father," he replied respectfully. "I know you do not wish me to
join the Hussars. It is my duty to consult your wishes."
"I am pleased to find you such an obedient son, still I do not wish
to force your inclinations. I will not insist upon your entering the
Civil Service at once; and in the meantime I mean to marry you."
"To whom, father?" exclaimed his astonished son.
"To Lisa Muromskaia; she is good enough for any one, isn't she?"
"Father, I did not think of marrying just yet."
"Perhaps not, but I have thought about it for you."
"As you please, but I don't care about Lisa Muromskaia at all."
"You will care about her afterwards. You will get used to her, and you
will learn to love her."
"I feel I could not make her happy."
"You need not trouble yourself about that. All you have to do is to
respect the wishes of your father."
"I do not wish to marry, and I won't."
"You shall marry or I will curse you; and, by Heaven, I will sell and
squander my property, and not leave you a farthing! I will give you