Platosha rose to her feet, grunting, and, making no
further opposition, wended her way to her chamber.
Yasha had frightened her.—“I have
not a head on my shoulders,” she remarked to
the cook, who was helping her to pack Yasha’s
things,—“not a head—but
a bee-hive ... and what bees are buzzing there I do
not know! He is going away to Kazan, my mother,
to Ka-za-an!”
The cook, who had noticed their yard-porter talking
for a long time to the policeman about something,
wanted to report this circumstance to her mistress,
but she did not dare, and merely thought to herself:
“To Kazan? If only it isn’t some
place further away!”—And Platonida
Ivanovna was so distracted that she did not even utter
her customary prayer.—In such a catastrophe
as this even the Lord God could be of no assistance!
That same day Aratoff set off for Kazan.
No sooner had he arrived in that town and engaged
a room at the hotel, than he dashed off in search
of the widow Milovidoff’s house. During
the whole course of his journey he had been in a sort
of stupor, which, nevertheless, did not in the least
prevent his taking all proper measures,—transferring
himself at Nizhni Novgorod from the railway to the
steamer, eating at the stations, and so forth.
As before, he was convinced that everything would
be cleared up there, and accordingly he banished
from his thoughts all memories and speculations, contenting
himself with one thing,—the mental preparation
of the speech in which he was to set forth to Clara
Militch’s family the real reason of his trip.—And
now, at last, he had attained to the goal of his yearning,
and ordered the servant to announce him. He was
admitted—with surprise and alarm—but
he was admitted.
The widow Milovidoff’s house proved to be in
fact just as Kupfer had described it; and the widow
herself really did resemble one of Ostrovsky’s
women of the merchant class, although she was of official
rank; her husband had been a Collegiate Assessor.[64]
Not without some difficulty did Aratoff, after having
preliminarily excused himself for his boldness, and
the strangeness of his visit, make the speech which
he had prepared, to the effect that he wished to collect
all the necessary information concerning the gifted
actress who had perished at such an early age; that
he was actuated not by idle curiosity, but by a profound
sympathy for her talent, of which he was a worshipper
(he said exactly that—“a worshipper");
that, in conclusion, it would be a sin to leave the
public in ignorance of the loss it had sustained,—and
why its hopes had not been realized!
Madame Milovidoff did not interrupt Aratoff; it is
hardly probable that she understood very clearly what
this strange visitor was saying to her, and she merely
swelled a little with pride, and opened her eyes widely
at him on perceiving that he had a peaceable aspect,
and was decently clad, and was not some sort of swindler
... and was not asking for any money.
