"You wanted to see me," he said, bowing coldly.

"Yes," answered Maria Dmitrievna, and then she drank a little water.

"I heard that you had gone straight up-stairs to my aunt, so I told the servants to ask you to come and see me. I want to have a talk with you. Please sit down."

Maria Dmitrievna took breath. "You know that your wife has come," she continued.

"I am aware of that fact," said Lavretsky.

"Well--yes--that is--I meant to say that she has been here, and I have received her. That is what I wanted to have the explanation about with you, Fedor Ivanovich, I have deserved, I may say, general respect, thank G.o.d! and I wouldn't, for all the world, do any thing unbecoming.

But, although I saw beforehand that it would be disagreeable to you, Fedor Ivanich, yet I couldn't make up my mind to refuse her. She is a relation of mine--through you. Only put yourself into my position.

What right had I to shut my door in her face? Surely you must agree with me."

"You are exciting yourself quite unnecessarily, Maria Dmitrievna,"

replied Lavretsky. "You have done what is perfectly right. I am not in the least angry. I never intended to deprive my wife of the power of seeing her acquaintances. I did not come to see you to-day simply because I did not wish to meet her. That was all."

"Ah! how glad I am to hear you say that, Fedor Ivanich!" exclaimed Maria Dmitrievna. "However, I always expected as much from your n.o.ble feelings. But as to my being excited, there's no wonder in that. I am a woman and a mother. And your wife--of course I cannot set myself up as a judge between you and her, I told her so herself; but she is such a charming person that no one can help being pleased with her."

Lavretsky smiled and twirled his hat in his hands.

"And there is something else that I wanted to say to you, Fedor Ivanich," continued Maria Dmitrievna, drawing a little nearer to him.

"If you had only seen how modestly, how respectfully she behaved!

Really it was perfectly touching. And if you had only heard how she spoke of you! 'I,' she said, 'am altogether guilty before him.' 'I,'

she said, 'was not able to appreciate him.' 'He,' she said, 'is an angel, not a mere man,' I can a.s.sure you that's what she said--'an angel.' She is so penitent--I do solemnly declare I have never seen any one so penitent."

"But tell me, Maria Dmitrievna," said Lavretsky, "if I may be allowed to be so inquisitive. I hear that Varvara Pavlovna has been singing here. Was it in one of her penitent moments that she sang, or how--?"

"How can you talk like that and not feel ashamed of yourself? She played and sang simply to give me pleasure, and because I particularly entreated her, almost ordered her to do so. I saw that she was unhappy, so unhappy, and I thought how I could divert her a little; and besides that, I had heard that she had so much talent. Do show her some pity, Fedor Ivanich--she is utterly crushed--only ask Gedeonovsky--broken down entirely, _tout-a-fait_. How can you say such things of her?"

Lavretsky merely shrugged his shoulders.

"And besides, what a little angel your Adochka is! What a charming little creature! How pretty she is! and how good! and how well she speaks French! And she knows Russian too. She called me aunt in Russian. And then as to shyness, you know, almost all children of her age are shy; but she is not at all so. It's wonderful how like you she is, Fedor Ivanich--eyes, eyebrows, in fact you all over--absolutely you. I don't usually like such young children, I must confess, but I am quite in love with your little daughter."

"Maria Dmitrievna," abruptly said Lavretsky, "allow me to inquire why you are saying all this to me?"

"Why?"--Maria Dmitrievna again had recourse to her Eau-de-Cologne and drank some water--"why I say this to you, Fedor Ivanich, is because--you see I am one of your relations, I take a deep interest in you. I know your heart is excellent. Mark my words, _mon cousin_--at all events I am a woman of experience, and I do not speak at random.

Forgive, do forgive your wife!". (Maria Dmitrievna's eyes suddenly filled with tears.) "Only think--youth, inexperience, and perhaps also a bad example--hers was not the sort of mother to put her in the right way. Forgive her, Fedor Ivanich! She has been punished enough."

The tears flowed down Maria Dmitrievna's cheeks. She did not wipe them away; she was fond of weeping. Meanwhile Lavretsky sat as if on thorns. "Good G.o.d!" he thought, "what torture this is! What a day this has been for me!"

"You do not reply," Maria Dmitrievna recommenced: "how am I to understand you? Is it possible that you can be so cruel? No, I cannot believe that. I feel that my words have convinced you. Fedor Ivanich, G.o.d will reward you for your goodness! Now from my hands receive your wife!"

Lavretsky jumped up from his chair scarcely knowing what he was doing.

Maria Dmitrievna had risen also, and had pa.s.sed rapidly to the other side of the screen, from behind which she brought out Madame Lavretsky. Pale, half lifeless, with downcast eyes, that lady seemed as if she had surrendered her whole power of thinking or willing for herself, and had given herself over entirely into the hands of Maria Dmitrievna.

Lavretsky recoiled a pace.

"You have been there all this time!" he exclaimed.

"Don't blame her," Maria Dmitrievna hastened to say. "She wouldn't have stayed for any thing; but I made her stay; I put her behind the screen. She declared that it would make you angrier than ever; but I wouldn't even listen to her. I know you better than she does. Take then from my hands your wife! Go to him, Varvara; have no fear; fall at your husband's feet" (here she gave Varvara's arm a pull), "and may my blessing--"

"Stop, Maria Dmitrievna!" interposed Lavretsky, in a voice shaking with emotion. "You seem to like sentimental scenes." (Lavretsky was not mistaken; from her earliest school-days Maria Dmitrievna had always been pa.s.sionately fond of a touch of stage effect.) "They may amuse you, but to other people they may prove very unpleasant.

However, I am not going to talk to you. In _this_ scene you do not play the leading part."

"What is it _you_ want from me, Madame?" he added, turning to his wife. "Have I not done for you all that I could? Do not tell me that it was not you who got up this scene. I should not believe you. You know that I cannot believe you. What is it you want? You are clever.

You do nothing without an object. You must feel that to live with you, as I used formerly to live, is what I am not in a position to do--not because I am angry with you, but because I have become a different man. I told you that the very day you returned; and at that time you agreed with me in your own mind. But, perhaps, you wish to rehabilitate yourself in public opinion. Merely to live in my house is too little for you; you want to live with me under the same roof. Is it not so?"

"I want you to pardon me," replied Varvara Pavlovna, without lifting her eyes from the ground.

"She wants you to pardon her," repeated Maria Dmitrievna.

"And not for my own sake, but for Ada's," whispered Varvara.

"Not for her own sake, but for your Ada's," repeated Maria Dmitrievna.

"Very good! That is what you want?" Lavretsky just managed to say.

"Well, I consent even to that."

Varvara Pavlovna shot a quick glance at him. Maria Dmitrievna exclaimed, "Thank G.o.d!" again took Varvara by the arm, and again began, "Take, then, from my hands--"

"Stop, I tell you!" broke in Lavretsky. "I will consent to live with you, Varvara Pavlovna," he continued; "that is to say, I will take you to Lavriki, and live with you as long as I possibly can. Then I will go away; but I will visit you from time to time. You see, I do not wish to deceive you; only do not ask for more than that. You would laugh yourself, if I were to fulfil the wish of our respected relative, and press you to my heart--if I were to a.s.sure you that--that the past did not exist, that the felled tree would again produce leaves. But I see this plainly--one must submit. These words do not convey the same meaning to you as to me, but that does not matter. I repeat, I will live with you--or, no, I cannot promise that; but I will no longer avoid you; I will look on you as my wife again--"

"At all events, give her your hand on that," said Maria Dmitrievna, whose tears had dried up long ago.

"I have never yet deceived Varvara Pavlovna," answered Lavretsky. "She will believe me as it is. I will take her to Lavriki. But remember this, Varvara Pavlovna. Our treaty will be considered at an end, as soon as you give up stopping there. And now let me go away."

He bowed to both of the ladies, and went out quickly.

"Won't you take her with you?" Maria Dmitrievna called after him.

"Let him alone," said Varvara to her in a whisper, and then began to express her thanks to her, throwing her arms around her, kissing her hand, saying she had saved her.

Maria Dmitrievna condescended to accept her caresses, but in reality she was not contented with her; nor was she contented with Lavretsky, nor with the whole scene which she had taken so much pains to arrange.

There had been nothing sentimental about it.

According to her ideas Varvara Pavlovna ought to have thrown herself at her husband's feet.

"How was it you didn't understand what I meant?" she kept saying.

"Surely I said to you, 'Down with you!'"

"It is better as it is, my dear aunt. Don't disturb yourself--all has turned out admirably," declared Varvara Pavlovna.

"Well, anyhow he is--as cold as ice," said Maria Dmitrievna. "It is true you didn't cry, but surely my tears flowed before his eyes. So he wants to shut you up at Lavriki. What! You won't be able to come out even to see me! All men are unfeeling," she ended by saying, and shook her head with an air of deep meaning.

"But at all events women can appreciate goodness and generosity," said Varvara Pavlovna. Then, slowly sinking on her knees, she threw her arms around Maria Dmitrievna's full waist, and hid her face in that lady's lap. That hidden face wore a smile, but Maria Dmitrievna's tears began to flow afresh.

As for Lavretsky, he returned home, shut himself up in his valet's room, flung himself on the couch, and lay there till the morning.