[Footnote A: The initial letter of the name of
the Empress, worn as a kind of decoration by the best
pupils in the Imperial Institutes.]
XIV.
The Spartan’s legs trembled when Mikhalevich
led him into the Korobines’ not over-well furnished
drawing-room, and introduced him to its occupants.
But he overcame his timidity, and soon disappeared.
In General Korobine that kindliness which is common
to all Russians, was enhanced by the special affability
which is peculiar to all persons whose fair fame has
been a little soiled. As for the General’s
wife, she soon became as it were ignored by the whole
party. But Varvara Pavlona was so calmly, so
composedly gracious, that no one could be, even for
a moment, in her presence without feeling himself at
his ease. And at the same time from all her charming
form, from her smiling eyes, from her faultlessly
sloping shoulders, from the rose-tinged whiteness
of her hands, from her elastic, but at the same time
as it were, irresolute gait, from the very sound of
her sweet and languorous voice—there breathed,
like a delicate perfume, a subtle and incomprehensible
charm—something which was at once tender
and voluptuous and modest—something which
it was difficult to express in words, which stirred
the imagination and disturbed the mind, but disturbed
it with sensations which were not akin to timidity.
Lavretsky introduced the subject of the theatre and
the preceding night’s performance; she immediately
began to talk about Mochalof of her own accord, and
did not confine herself to mere sighs and exclamations,
but pronounced several criticisms on his acting, which
were as remarkable for sound judgment as for womanly
penetration. Mikhalevich mentioned music; she
sat down to the piano without affectation, and played
with precision several of Chopin’s mazurkas,
which were then only just coming into fashion.
Dinner time came. Lavretsky would have gone away,
but they made him stop, and the General treated him
at table with excellent Lafitte, which the footman
had been hurriedly sent out to buy at Depre’s.
It was late in the evening before Lavretsky returned
home; and then he sat for a longtime without undressing,
covering his eyes with his hand, and yielding to the
torpor of enchantment. It seemed to him that
he had not till now understood what makes life worth
having. All his resolutions and intentions, all
the now valueless ideas of other days, had disappeared
in a moment. His whole soul melted within him
into one feeling, one desire; into the desire of happiness,
of possession, of love, of the sweetness of a woman’s
love.
From that day he began to visit the Korobines frequently.
After six months had passed, he proposed to Varvara
Pavlovna, and his offer was accepted. Long, long
before, even if it was not the night before Lavretsky’s
first visit, the General had asked Mikhalevich how
many serfs[A] his friend had. Even Varvara Pavlona,
who had preserved her wonted composure and equanimity
during the whole period of her young admirer’s
courtship, and even at the very moment of his declaration—even
Varvara Pavlovna knew perfectly well that her betrothed
was rich. And Calliope Carlovna thought to herself,
“Meine Tochter macht eine schoene Partie[B]”—and
bought herself a new cap.
