shunned. Truth to tell, Kupfer breakfasted and
dined with him rather often, and even—as
he was not a rich man—borrowed small sums
of money from him; but it was not that which made
the free-and-easy German so diligently frequent the
little house on Shabolovka Street. He had taken
a liking to Yakoff’s spiritual purity, his “ideality,”—possibly
as a contrast to what he daily encountered and beheld;—or,
perhaps, in that same attraction toward “ideality”
the young man’s German blood revealed itself.
And Yakoff liked Kupfer’s good-natured frankness;
and in addition to this, his tales of the theatres,
concerts, and balls which he constantly attended—in
general of that alien world into which Yakoff could
not bring himself to penetrate—secretly
interested and even excited the young recluse, yet
without arousing in him a desire to test all this
in his own experience. And Platosha liked Kupfer;
she sometimes thought him too unceremonious, it is
true; but instinctively feeling and understanding
that he was sincerely attached to her beloved Yasha,
she not only tolerated the noisy visitor, but even
felt a kindness for him.
II
At the time of which we are speaking, there was in
Moscow a certain widow, a Georgian Princess,—a
person of ill-defined standing and almost a suspicious
character. She was about forty years of age; in
her youth she had, probably, bloomed with that peculiar
oriental beauty, which so quickly fades; now she powdered
and painted herself, and dyed her hair a yellow hue.
Various, not altogether favourable, and not quite definite,
rumours were in circulation about her; no one had known
her husband—and in no one city had she
lived for any length of time. She had neither
children nor property; but she lived on a lavish scale,—on
credit or otherwise. She held a salon, as the
saying is, and received a decidedly mixed company—chiefly
composed of young men. Her whole establishment,
beginning with her own toilette, furniture, and table,
and ending with her equipage and staff of servants,
bore a certain stamp of inferiority, artificiality,
transitoriness ...
but neither the Princess herself
nor her guests, apparently, demanded anything better.
The Princess was reputed to be fond of music and literature,
to be a patroness of actors and artists; and she really
did take an interest in these “questions,”
even to an enthusiastic degree—and even
to a pitch of rapture which was not altogether simulated.
She indubitably did possess the aesthetic chord.
Moreover, she was very accessible, amiable, devoid
of pretensions, of affectation, and—a fact
which many did not suspect—in reality extremely
kind, tender-hearted and obliging.... Rare qualities,
and therefore all the more precious, precisely in individuals
of that stamp.
“A frivolous woman!” one clever person
said concerning her, “and she will infallibly
get into paradise! For she forgives everything—and
everything will be forgiven her!”—It
was also said concerning her that when she disappeared
from any town, she always left behind her as many
creditors as persons whom she had loaded with benefits.
A soft heart can be pressed in any direction you like.
Copyrights
A Reckless Character from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
