‘And so here I am, Uncle!’ I began, changing the subject in order to get to the main point as soon as possible. ‘I must admit your letter was such a surprise to me that …’

  ‘My boy, not a word about this!’ Uncle interrupted in a low voice, as if in fear. ‘Later, later, everything will be clear. I may have done you an injustice, a very serious injustice come to that, but …’

  ‘An injustice, Uncle — to me?’

  ‘Later, later, my boy, later! Everything will sort itself out. My, what a fellow you have grown! Dear boy! And how I waited for you! I wanted to pour out my heart to you, so to speak … You’re a learned man, the only one I know … you and Korovkin. By the way, you might as well know that everybody’s taken against you here. So be careful you don’t do the wrong thing!’

  ‘Taken against me?’ I asked, staring at my uncle in disbelief and wondering how I could have incurred the displeasure of people who were complete strangers to me. ‘Against me?’

  ‘Taken against you, my boy. Can’t be helped. It’s Foma really … and therefore Mother too. Anyway, be careful, be respectful, don’t argue, but above all, be respectful …’

  ‘To Foma Fomich, Uncle?’

  ‘There’s no other way, my boy! I’m not defending him or anything. It’s true he may have faults as a person, and perhaps this very minute … Oh, Seryozha, my boy, I’m so worried about it all! And yet there should be no need for any of this trouble, everybody could so easily be happy and contented! … Still, who hasn’t got his faults? We’re not perfect ourselves, are we?’

  ‘Uncle, please! Just consider what he’s doing …’

  ‘My dear boy! It’s all such petty bickering, nothing else! For instance, let me tell you something: I’m in his bad books at the moment, and do you know why? … Still, perhaps I’m to blame myself, after all. I’ll tell you about it later …’

  ‘Uncle, I’ve a special theory of my own on this subject,’ I interrupted him, anxious to voice my views. We both seemed to be rather impatient. ‘To begin with he was a clown: this embittered and wounded him, degraded his ideals; consequently he has developed a warped and poisoned outlook, with thoughts of wreaking revenge on the whole of mankind … But if mankind were to befriend him and his peace of mind were restored …’

  ‘Exactly, exactly!’ Uncle exclaimed joyfully, ‘that’s just it! A splendid thought! It’s uncharitable, disgraceful for us to criticize him! You’re absolutely right! … Oh, you really do understand me, my boy; you’ve brought me comfort! If only things could be put right at the house. You know, I’m even afraid to show my face there. Your arrival is bound to get me into trouble!’

  ‘Uncle, if that’s so …’ I began, nonplussed by such an admission.

  ‘No, no, no! Not on your life!’ he exclaimed, grabbing my hands. ‘You’re my guest, and that’s how I want it!’

  I found all this most perplexing.

  ‘Uncle, tell me at once,’ I began firmly, ‘why did you want me to come, what do you expect me to do, and above all, what injustice could you possibly have done me?’

  ‘My dear boy, don’t ask! Later, later! Everything will be clear later! I may have done you a very grave injustice, but I only wished to be fair and … and … and you will marry her! If there’s a grain of decency in you, you will marry her!’ He blushed deeply in a sudden surge of emotion and went on, clasping my hand firmly and fervently. ‘But enough, not another word! You’ll soon find out everything for yourself. It’ll all depend on you … You must try to please them now, that’s the main thing; make a good impression. Above all, don’t lose your nerve.’

  ‘But listen, Uncle, who’s there? I see so few people that to tell the truth —’

  ‘A little scared?’ Uncle interrupted with a smile. ‘It’s all right! You’re among friends, cheer up! Cheer up and don’t be afraid. I’m a little concerned about you though. You want to know who’s there, do you? Well, let’s see … First of all there’s Mother,’ he began hurriedly. ‘Do you remember her or not? She’s the kindest, sweetest old lady; no pretence about her — that’s a fact; a little old-fashioned, but no harm in that. Well, she does occasionally go over the mark, she says things; I’m in her bad books at the moment, but I can’t blame her for that … it’s my own fault, I know! After all, she’s the grande dame, the General’s Lady … What an outstanding man her husband was: first, a general, a highly-educated man; true, he didn’t leave a fortune, but he was battle-worn and scarred; he strove for glory! Then there’s Miss Perepelitsyna. Well, I don’t know about her … lately she’s been a bit odd … it’s her character. Still, I can’t go on criticizing everybody … Good luck to her … Don’t go thinking she’s just a hanger-on. She’s a Lieutenant-Colonel’s daughter no less; Mother’s confidante, bosom friend! Next, Praskovya Ilyinichna, my sister. Well, no need to say very much about her: simple and good-natured, a bit of a fusspot, but what a heart of gold! — the heart’s the thing, I tell you — no longer in her prime, but, you know, Bakhcheyev, funny man, has designs on her, I suspect, wants to woo her. But mum’s the word! Keep it secret! Well, who else is there? No need to mention the children: you’ll see them for yourself. It’s Ilyusha’s name-day tomorrow … Oh, and I nearly forgot: Ivan Ivanych Mizinchikov has been staying with us for over a month now. He’s second cousin to you if I’m not mistaken; yes, that’s right, second. He gave up his commission in the hussars not so long ago; quite young still. A very worthy soul! But what a spendthrift! I simply can’t imagine how he could have turned into such a spendthrift. He hardly ever had a kopeck to his name, but he still managed to run up debts! … He’s a guest of the house now. I didn’t even know him until he arrived and introduced himself. Very pleasant, kind, good-natured, respectful. I doubt if anybody’s ever heard him speak! Very untalkative. Foma has nicknamed him “the silent stranger” — but he doesn’t mind. Foma is pleased with him; he reckons Ivan is a little slow-witted. To be sure, Ivan never contradicts him, in fact he says yes to everything. Hm! a sad case … Anyway, God help him! You’ll see for yourself. Then there are some people from the town. Pavel Semyonych Obnoskin with his mother; young, but exceptionally clever; something mature, you know, and steadfast about him … Pity I can’t put it any better. And he’s of impeccable morals! And finally we’ve a certain Tatyana Ivanovna staying, may well be a distant relative of ours — you don’t know her — a lady no longer in her prime, no use denying that, but … with certain other attributes; she’s so rich she could buy Stepanchikovo twice over; she’s recently come into money, you understand, she was quite destitute before. So, Seryozha, please be considerate: she’s highly strung and excitable … there’s something phantasmagoric in her character. But I know you’re a gentleman, you’ll understand, she’s had her share of bad luck. Discretion, above all discretion with people who’ve tasted misfortune! Still, don’t get the wrong idea. Of course she has her weaknesses: she won’t stop to think sometimes, she will say the wrong word too hastily sometimes, not to deceive, you understand … but out of, as it were, pure innocence of heart, that is, even if she does tell the occasional lie, it’s her good nature speaking pure and simple — if you follow me?’

  It appeared to me that Uncle was terribly embarrassed.

  ‘Listen, Uncle,’ I said, ‘I’m so fond of you … pardon my frankness: but are you going to marry somebody here or not?’

  ‘Who told you?’ he replied, blushing like a child. ‘Now look here, my boy, I’ll tell you everything: first, I’m not getting married. Mother, and to some extent my sister, and above all Foma, whom Mother adores — and rightly so, rightly so, he’s done a lot for her — they all want me to marry Tatyana Ivanovna; to do the sensible thing and benefit the whole household. Of course, it’s my welfare they’re concerned with — that much I do understand; but nothing will ever induce me to marry — my mind’s made up! However, I’ve not been able to bring myself to say yea or nay. It’s the same old story with me, my boy. And they think I’ve agreed, and insist I should propose tomorrow, on the day of the family celebrations … there’s going to be such a commotion tomorrow, I wish I knew what to do! Besides, for some unknown reason Foma has been very short-tempered with me recently; Mother too. My boy, I do admit, I have been so wanting to see you, you and Korovkin … to unburden myself, as it were …’

  ‘Come, come, Uncle, what good can Korovkin do?’

  ‘He can, my boy, he can help — my, what a man; just think of it: a man of science! I rely on him as on a solid rock: a providential personality! You should hear him talk of family happiness. Of course, I’ve been relying on you too. I expected you to make them see reason. Judge for yourself: well, so I am guilty, really guilty — I accept that, I’m not so insensitive. But surely I could be forgiven once in a while! What a life we would all have then. How my Sasha has grown, almost ready to wed! And you should see Ilyusha! Tomorrow’s his name-day. I’m a bit worried about Sasha though! …’

  ‘Uncle! Where’s my suitcase! Let me get changed and I’ll be back directly, and then …’

  ‘It’s in the mezzanine, my boy, in the mezzanine. I made sure that you would be taken straight to the mezzanine when you arrived, so that nobody would spot you. Yes of course, of course, get changed! That’s good, very good, wonderful! In the meantime I’ll go and prepare them all as well as I can. God bless! One is driven to cunning, you know. I’m worse than Talleyrand sometimes. Never mind though! They’re all having tea now. That’s the way here, very early. Foma likes to have his tea as soon as he wakes up; frankly, it’s better that way … I’ll be off then, and don’t keep me waiting; I hate to be on my own with them … Oh! I say! There’s just one other thing: don’t shout at me, like you did just then! Later if you must, when we’re alone, you can point things out to me; but in the meantime try to control yourself and just wait! You see, I’ve stirred things up there already. They’re frightfully cross …’

  ‘Listen, Uncle, from what I see and hear, it seems you’re —’

  ‘A real dummy? Go on — say it!’ he interrupted me quite unexpectedly. ‘What’s to be done, my boy! I’m aware of it myself. Well, you will come, won’t you? Come as soon as you can, please.’

  I hurried upstairs and opened the suitcase, with Uncle’s words not to delay fresh in my ears. As I was changing, it struck me that although I had spent nearly an hour talking to him, I still knew next to nothing about what I had come to find out. This astonished me. One thing was clear: my uncle still wished me to marry; consequently, all rumours to the contrary, namely, that he was in love with the same person, were unfounded. I remember I felt most alarmed. It occurred to me, furthermore, that arriving as I had and saying very little to Uncle, I had tacitly expressed my agreement, given my word, and bound myself for life. It was the easiest thing in the world, I thought, to let yourself be bound hand and foot through an inadvertent word. And I hadn’t even seen my bride yet! And then again, why was the whole family up in arms against me? Why should my arrival, as Uncle claimed, have antagonized them? And what strange role was Uncle himself playing in his own household? Why this secretiveness? Why so much fear and anxiety? I must admit, everything suddenly seemed to me quite meaningless; all my romantic and heroic notions vanished clean out of my head at the first contact with reality. Only now, after my conversation with Uncle, did I suddenly realize the incongruousness, the utter ridiculousness of his suggestion, and it became clear to me that such a proposal, and in such circumstances, could only have come from my uncle. I realized too that in making the journey as I had, post-haste in rapture at his proposal, at the first call, I had come dangerously close to acting like a fool. I dressed hurriedly and was so engrossed in my troubled thoughts that it took me some time to notice the manservant in attendance.

  ‘What colour necktie would you prefer — Adelaide blue, or this fine check one?’ the manservant inquired, suddenly addressing me with absurdly cloying deference.

  I glanced at him, and it turned out he too was a sight worth seeing. He was a young man remarkably well dressed for a lackey, quite the equal of any provincial dandy. His brown tailcoat, white trousers, pale yellow waistcoat, patent leather boots, and pink necktie were evidently matched with exquisite care so as to draw attention to the young fop’s refined taste. His fob-chain, prominently displayed, served the same purpose. His complexion was deathly pale, almost green; his long, aquiline nose was unnaturally white, as if moulded in china clay. The smile playing about his thin lips suggested melancholy, but refined melancholy. His large, goggling, glassy eyes had an air of extraordinary dullness that at the same time also managed to share something of the same refinement. His soft thin ears were stopped — for the sake of his refined hearing — with cotton wool. The long thin strands of his fair hair were curled and moist with pomade. His hands were white and spotless, no doubt washed in scented rose water, and his delicate fingers displayed long pink manicured nails. Everything suggested a spoilt, idle fop. He talked with a lisp and, according to the latest fashion, would not pronounce the letter ‘r’, all the while raising and lowering his eyes in undisguised affectation. He reeked of perfume. He was short of stature, flabby and feeble, and kept bobbing up and down as he walked, apparently regarding this as the peak of refinement — in a word, he was steeped in refinement, in delicacy and an inordinate sense of his own dignity. For some reason this latter characteristic annoyed me intensely.

  ‘So this necktie is Adelaide blue, is it?’ I asked, looking hard at the young lackey.

  ‘Adelaide blue — correct,’ he replied, his refinement unruffled.

  ‘You’re sure it’s not Molly pink?’

  ‘No sir. No such colour is possible.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘The name Molly is vulgar.’

  ‘What do you mean, vulgar? Why?’

  ‘It stands to reason, sir: Adelaide’s a foreign name, and therefore civilized; whereas any washerwoman could be called Molly.’

  ‘You’re mad!’

  ‘Not at all, sir, I’m quite sane. But if it pleases you to abuse me, that’s your affair. I’d have you know though that my conversation has been found pleasing by many a general and even certain counts from the capital.’

  ‘Tell me, what’s your name?’

  ‘Vidoplyasov.’

  ‘Ah! So you’re Vidoplyasov?’

  ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘Well, we’ll meet again, my dear fellow, I can assure you.’

  ‘This is real Bedlam,’ I thought as I descended the stairs.

  4

  At Tea

  Tea was being served in the room which opened out onto the terrace where earlier on I had met Gavrila. Uncle’s mysterious forebodings about the reception which awaited me made me very uneasy. Youth is sometimes given to excessive pride, and youthful pride is almost always cowardly. Hence my extreme anguish when, coming through the door and suddenly finding myself face to face with the whole party assembled at the tea-table, I tripped on the carpet, and, trying to regain my balance, unexpectedly flew into the middle of the room. I stood there staring at the assembled company in dumb embarrassment, red-faced and motionless, believing my career, honour and good name to have been ruined at a stroke. I mention this incident, which in itself was quite insignificant, only because it had a profound effect upon my state of mind all that day and consequently upon my attitude to some of the personages of my story. I set out to make a bow, hesitated, blushed more deeply still, then rushed towards my uncle and seized him by the hand.

  ‘Hello, Uncle,’ I brought out, gasping for breath and wishing to say something quite different and much more witty, but, quite unexpectedly, managing only ‘Hello’.

  ‘How do you do, my boy, how do you do?’ Uncle replied, sharing my suffering. ‘We’ve already greeted each other, though. Please don’t get embarrassed,’ he added in a whisper, ‘it can happen to anybody, and worse! I know you wish the earth would open up and swallow you! Well, and now, Mother dear, allow me to introduce — here is our young man; he’s a trifle embarrassed, but I’m sure you’ll grow to like him. My nephew, Sergey Aleksandrovich,’ he announced, addressing everybody in general.

  But before I continue my story, allow me, dear reader, to introduce individually the assembled company in whose midst I suddenly found myself. For this is essential to the proper sequence of my tale.

  The company consisted of several ladies and only two men, apart from my uncle and myself. Foma Fomich, whom I was so eager to meet and whom I perceived immediately to be the undisputed master of the house, was not present: but he was conspicuous by his absence, which appeared to have deprived the room of its only source of light. Everybody looked preoccupied and despondent. It was impossible not to notice this from the outset; in spite of my own confused and distraught state I could see that Uncle, for instance, was as upset as I was, however hard he tried to conceal his agitation under a mask of unconcern. Something was weighing heavily upon his mind. One of the two men present was still quite young — about twenty-five, the same Obnoskin whom Uncle had previously extolled for his intelligence and morals. I took an intense dislike to this gentleman. Everything about him had an air of modishness and poor taste; his suit, in spite of its elegant cut, looked shabby and tattered; there was something shabby about his face too. Pale, struggling, cockroach whiskers and a miserable tufted beard were apparently intended to mark a man of an independent attitude, perhaps even inclined to free thought. He kept striking poses in his chair, screwing up his eyes and contorting his features into a malicious grin as he eyed me through his lorgnette which he would timidly drop as soon as I turned to face him. The other gentleman, also fairly young, about twenty-eight years of age, was my second cousin Mizinchikov. He was indeed a man of extraordinarily few words. Through the whole of tea he said absolutely nothing, did not laugh when others laughed, but not, as Uncle seemed to think, through any feelings of inferiority; quite the contrary, his light-brown eyes radiated confidence and a certain incisiveness of character. Mizinchikov looked rather handsome with his dark hair and swarthy complexion; he was dressed very presentably — at Uncle’s expense, as I found out later. Of the ladies, my attention was first attracted by Miss Perepelitsyna because of her bloodless and singularly vicious features. She was sitting close to the General’s Lady — whom I shall describe separately later — not next to her, but at a respectful distance behind her, from where she constantly leant across her benefactress’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. Another two or three elderly ladies, indigent members of the household, sat mutely in a row by the window respectfully awaiting their turn to be served tea and staring wide-eyed at the General’s Lady. My interest was also aroused by a gaudily clad, fat and flabby woman of about fifty, with rouged cheeks and such teeth as she had black and broken, which did not deter her from tittering, smiling and showing off to the point of flirtation. Her dress was festooned with tiny chains, and she kept staring at me through her lorgnette in the manner of Monsieur Obnoskin. She turned out to be his mother. My aunt, the dutiful Praskovya Ilyinichna, was serving tea. After our long separation it was evident she wanted to embrace me and, naturally, burst into tears, but she did not dare. Everything seemed to be under some kind of prohibition. Next to her sat a lovely dark-eyed girl of fifteen who kept looking at me with intense childish curiosity — this was my cousin Sasha. The last and perhaps most striking of all was a very strange lady dressed with a magnificent and youthful abandon which belied her age. She was at least thirty-five years old, with drained, haggard but extremely animated features. Her pale cheeks would flush deep crimson with her every movement, every surge of emotion. She seemed to be in a perpetual state of excitement, fidgeting on her chair, incapable of keeping still even for a minute. She scrutinized me with frantic curiosity and all the while kept leaning towards Sasha or anybody else close by to whisper a remark before bursting into the most innocent and childishly merry laughter. Yet all her eccentricities, to my surprise, passed completely unnoticed as though everybody had conspired in advance to ignore them. I guessed that this must be Tatyana Ivanovna, whom Uncle had earlier referred to as being ‘phantasmagorical’, and who was being foisted upon him in marriage and generally made much of on account of her wealth. Oddly enough, I found her mild blue eyes strangely attractive; although there were lines under them they shone with a sincerity, good cheer and kindliness that made it a pleasure to encounter them. But of Tatyana Ivanovna, who is one of the principal ‘heroines’ of my tale, I shall speak more fully later; her life story is quite remarkable. About five minutes after my arrival in the tea-room, my cousin Ilyusha, a sweet boy, whose name-day was to be celebrated the following day, burst into the room from the garden with both his pockets full of knuckle-bones and a spinning-top in his hand. He was followed by a graceful young girl, a little pale in the cheek and tired-looking, but all the same very attractive. She swept the room with an inquisitive yet apprehensive, not to say timid glance, gave me a stare, and took a seat next to Tatyana Ivanovna. I remember feeling my heart jump involuntarily. I realized this must be the governess … I recall too that when she appeared, Uncle shot a glance at me, blushed, then hurriedly picked up Ilyusha and brought him up to me to kiss. I also could not help noticing that Madame Obnoskin first looked hard at my uncle, then, with a sarcastic smile, turned her lorgnette on the governess. Uncle, who appeared very uneasy and at a loss as to what to do, called on Sasha to come and introduce herself to me, but she merely rose, bobbed with serious dignity, and was quickly seated again without uttering a syllable. This in fact became her, and I liked her for it. At the same instant the kindly Praskovya Ilyinichna, who could no longer restrain herself, stopped pouring tea and rushed over to shower me with kisses; but I had not managed to say two words to her before Perepelitsyna’s penetrating voice echoed through the room with the complaint that it seemed Mamma (the General’s Lady) had been forgotten, Mamma had asked for her tea and nothing was being done about it and she was being kept waiting; whereupon Praskovya Ilyinichna left me and rushed to resume her duties.