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<h2> CHAPTER VIII </h2> The sun was setting when Raisky returned home, and was received at the door by Marfinka. “Where did you get lost, Cousin?” she asked him. “Grandmother is very angry, and is grumbling....” “I was with Leonti,” returned Raisky indifferently. “I thought so, and told Grandmother so, but she won’t listen and will hardly speak even to Tiet Nikonich. He is with her now and Paulina Karpovna too. Go to Grandmother, and it will be all right. Are you afraid. Does your heart beat fast?” Raisky had to laugh. “She is very angry. We had prepared so many dishes.” “We will eat them up for supper.” “Will you? Grandmother, Grandmother,” she cried happily, “Cousin has come and wants his supper.” His aunt sat severely there, and did not look up when Raisky entered. Tiet Nikonich embraced him. He received an elegant bow from Paulina Karpovna, an elaborately got-up person of forty-five in a low cut muslin gown, with a fine lace handkerchief and a fan, which she kept constantly in motion although there was no heat. “What a man you have grown! I should hardly have known you,” said Tiet Nikonich, beaming with kindness and pleasure. “He has grown very, very handsome,” said Paulina Karpovna Kritzki. “You have not altered, Tiet Nikonich,” remarked Raisky. “You have hardly aged at all, and are as gay, as fresh, as kind and amiable....” “Thank God! there is nothing worse than rheumatism the matter with me, and my digestion is no longer quite as good as it was. That is age, age. But how glad I am that you, our guest, have arrived in such good spirits. Tatiana Markovna was anxious about you. You will be staying here for some time?” “Of course you will spend the summer with us,” said Paulina Karpovna. “Here is nature, and fine air, and so many people are interested in you.” He looked at her askance, and said nothing. “Do you remember me?” she asked. Boris’s aunt noticed with displeasure that Paulina Karpovna was ogling her nephew. “No, I must confess I forgot.” “Yes, impressions are quickly forgotten in the capital,” she said in a languishing tone. She looked him up and down and then added, “What an admirable travelling suit.” “That reminds me I am still in my travelling clothes. Egor must be sent for and must take my clothes and linen out of the trunk. For you, Granny, and for you, my dear sisters, I have brought some small things for remembrance.” Marfinka grew crimson with pleasure. “Granny, where are you going to put me up?” “The house belongs to you. Where you will,” she returned coldly. “Don’t be angry, Granny,” he laughed. “It won’t happen twice.” “You may laugh, you may laugh, Boris Pavlovich. Here, in the presence of our guests, I tell you you have behaved badly. You have hardly put your nose inside the house, and straightway vanish. That is an insult to your Grandmother.” “Surely, Granny, we shall be together every day. I have been visiting an old friend, and we forgot ourselves in talking.” “Cousin Boris did not do it on purpose, Granny,” said Marfinka. “Leonti Ivanovich is so good.” “Please be silent when you are not addressed. You are too young to contradict your Grandmother, who knows what she is saying.” Smilingly Marfinka drew back into her corner. “No doubt Juliana Andreevna was able to entertain you better, and knows better than I how to entertain a Petersburger. What friccassee did she give you?” asked his aunt, not without a little real curiosity. “Vermicelli soup, pastry with cabbage, then beef and potatoes.” Tatiana Markovna laughed ironically, “Vermicelli soup and beef!” “And groats in the pan....” “It’s a long time since you tasted such delicacies.” “Excellent dishes,” said Tiet Nikonich kindly, “but heavy for the digestion.” “To-morrow, Marfinka,” said the old lady, “we will entertain our guest with a gosling, pickled pork, carrots, and perhaps with a goose.” “A goose, stuffed with groats, would be acceptable,” put in Raisky. “Indigestible!” protested Tiet Nikonich. “The best is a light soup, with pearl barley, a cutlet, pastries and jelly; that is the proper midday meal.” “But I should like groats.” “Do you like mushrooms too, Cousin?” asked Marfinka. “Because we have so many.” “Rather! Can’t we have them for supper tonight?” In spite of Tiet Nikonich’s caution against this heavy food, Tatiana Markovna sent Marfinka to Peter and to the cook to order mushrooms for supper. “If there is any champagne in the cellar, Granny, let us have a bottle up. Tiet Nikonich and I would like to drink your health. Isn’t that so, Tiet Nikonich?” “Yes, to celebrate your arrival, though mushrooms and champagne are indigestible.” “Tell the cook to bring champagne on ice, Marfinka,” said the old lady. “Ce que femme veut,” said Tiet Nikonich amiably, with a slight bow. “Supper is a special occasion, but one ought to dine at home too. You have vexed your Grandmother by going out on the very day of your return.” “Ah, Tatiana Markovna,” sighed Paulina Karpovna, “our ways here are so bourgeois, but in the capital....” The old lady’s eyes blazed, as she pointed to the wall where hung the portraits of Raisky’s and the young girls’ parents, and exclaimed: “There was nothing bourgeois about those, Paulina Karpovna.” “Granny,” said Raisky, “let us allow one another absolute freedom. I am now making up for my absence at midday, and shall be here all night. But I can’t tell where I shall dine to-morrow, or where I shall sleep.” Paulina Karpovna could not refrain from applauding, but his aunt looked at him with amazement, and inquired if he were really a gipsy. “Monsieur Raisky is a poet, and poets are as free as air,” remarked Paulina Karpovna. Again she made play with her eyes, shifted the pointed toes of her shoes in an effort to arouse Raisky’s attention. The more she twisted and turned, the more icy was his indifference, for her presence made an uncomfortable impression on him. Marfinka observed the by-play and smiled to herself. “You have two houses, land, peasants, silver and glass, and talk of wandering about from one shelter to another like a beggar, like Markushka, the vagrant.” “Markushka again! I must certainly make his acquaintance.” “No, don’t do that and add to your Grandmother’s anxieties. If you see him, make your escape.” “But why?” “He will lead you astray.” “That’s of no consequence, Grandmother. It looks as if he were an interesting individual, doesn’t it, Tiet Nikonich?” “He is a riddle to everybody,” Tiet Nikonich answered with a smile. “He must have gone astray very early in life, but he has apparently good brains and considerable knowledge, and might have been a useful member of society.” Paulina Karpovna turned her head away, and dismissed Mark with the criticism, “No manners.” “Brains! You bought his brains for three hundred roubles. Has he repaid them?” asked Tatiana Markovna. “I did not remind him of his debt. But to me he is, for the matter of that, almost polite.” “That is to say he does not strike you, or shoot in your direction. Just imagine, Boris, that he nearly shot Niel Andreevich.” “His dogs tore my train,” complained Paulina Karpovna. “Did he never visit you unceremoniously at dinner again?” Tatiana Markovna asked Tiet Nikonich. “No, you don’t like me to receive him, so I refuse him admission. He once came to me at night,” he went on, addressing Raisky. “He had been out hunting, and had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. I gave him food, and we passed the time very pleasantly.” “Pleasantly!” exclaimed Tatiana Markovna. “How can you say such things? If he came to me at that hour, I would settle him. No, Boris Pavlovich, live like other decent people. Stay with us, have dinner with us, go out with us, keep suspicious people at a distance, see how I administer your estate, and find fault if I do anything wrong.” “That is so monotonous, Grandmother. Let us rather live each one after his own ideas and inclinations.” “You are an exception,” sighed his aunt. “No, Grandmother, it is you who are an exceptional woman. Why should we bother about one another.” “To please your Grandmother.” “Why don’t you want to please your Grandson? You are a despot, Grandmother.” “A despot! Boris Pavlovich, I have waited anxiously for you, I have hardly slept, have tried to have everything as you liked it.” “But you did all that because activity is a pleasure to you. All this care and trouble is a pleasant stimulant, keeps you busy. If Markushka came to you, you would receive him in the same fashion.” “You are right, Cousin,” broke in Marfinka. “Grandmother is kindness itself, but she tries to disguise it.” “Don’t give your opinion when it is not asked. She contradicts her Grandmother only when you are here, Boris Pavlovich; at other times she is modest enough. And now the ideas she suddenly takes into her head. I? entertain Markushka!” “You did as you pleased,” continued Raisky. “And then when it entered my head too to do as I pleased, I disturbed your arrangements and made a breach in your despotism. Isn’t that so, Granny? And now kiss me, and we will give one another full liberty.” “What a strange boy? Do you hear, Tiet Nikonich, what nonsense he talks.” On that evening Tatiana Markovna and Raisky concluded, if not peace, at least a truce. She was assured that Boris loved and esteemed her; she was, in truth, easily convinced. After supper Raisky unpacked his trunk, and brought down his gifts; for his aunt, a few pounds of excellent tea, of which she was a connoisseur, a coffee machine of a new kind, with a coffee-pot, and a dark brown silk dress; bracelets with monograms for his cousins; and for Tiet Nikonich vest and hose of Samian leather, as his aunt had desired. Tatiana Markovna, with tears in her eyes, sat down beside him, and putting her hand on his shoulder said, “And you remembered me?” “Whom else should I remember? You are my nearest and dearest, Grandmother.” When Tiet Nikonich and Paulina Karpovna took leave, the lady said that she had left orders with no one to fetch her, and that she hoped someone would accompany her, looking towards Raisky as she spoke. Tiet Nikonich expressed himself ready to see her home. “Egorka could have taken her,” whispered Tatiana Markovna. “Why didn’t she stay at home; she was not invited.” “Thank you, thank you,” said Paulina Karpovna to Raisky as she passed him. “What for?” asked Raisky in amazement. “For the pleasant, witty conversation, although it was not directed to me. What pleasure it gave me!” “A practical conversation about groats, a goose, and a quarrel with Grandmother.” “Ah, I understand,” she continued, “but I caught two glances, which were intended for me, confess they were. I am filled with hope and expectation.” As she went out Raisky asked Marfinka what she was talking about. “She’s always like that,” laughed Marfinka. Tatiana Markovna followed Raisky to his room, smoothed the sheets of his bed once more, drew the curtains so that the sun should not awaken him in the morning, felt the feather bed to test its softness, and had a jug of water placed on the table beside him. She came back three times to see if he were asleep or wanted anything. Touched by so much kindly thought he recognised that his grandmother’s activity was not only exerted to gratify herself. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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