Her hands trembled. All three of the sisters began to fuss about her and to put finery on her. She always spent a lot of time over her toilette—the other sisters hurried her. Routilov kept continually babbling with pleasure and excitement. He was delighted that he had managed the matter so cleverly.
“Did you get the cabbies?” asked Darya with a worried air. Routilov answered with slight annoyance:
“How could I? The whole town would have heard of it. Varvara would have come and dragged him away by his hair.”
“Well, what shall we do?”
“Why, we can go to the Square in pairs and hire them there. It’s quite simple. You and the bride go first. Then Larissa with the bridegroom—now, mind you, not all together or we shall be noticed in town. Liudmilla and I will stop at Falastov’s. The two of them will go together and I will get Volodin.”
Once alone Peredonov became immersed in pleasant reveries. He imagined Valeria in all the bewitchment of the bridal night—undressed, bashful but happy. All slenderness and subtlety.
He dreamed, and at the same time he pulled out of his pocket some caramels that had stuck there and began to chew them.
Then he remembered that Valeria was a coquette. Now she’ll want expensive dresses, he thought. That meant that he would not only be unable to save money every month but that he would have to spend what he had saved. She would be hard to please. She would never even enter the kitchen. Besides, his food might get poisoned; Varvara, from spite, would bribe the cook. And on the whole, thought Peredonov, Valeria is a slender doll. It’s difficult to know how to treat a girl like that. How could one abuse her? And how could one give her an occasional push? How could one spit on her? It would end in tears and she would shame him before the whole town. No, it was impossible to tie oneself to her. Now Liudmilla was simpler; wouldn’t it be better to take her?
Peredonov walked up to the window and knocked with his stick on the pane. After a few moments Routilov stuck his head out of the window.
“What do you want?” he asked anxiously.
“I’ve thought it over,” growled Peredonov.
“Well?” exclaimed Routilov in apprehension.
“Bring Liudmilla here!” said Peredonov.
Routilov left the window.
“He’s a devil in spectacles,” he grumbled to himself and went to his sisters.
Valeria was glad.
“It’s your happiness, Liudmilla,” she said cheerfully.
Liudmilla began to laugh. She threw herself back in a chair and laughed and laughed.
“What shall I tell him?” asked Routilov. “Are you willing?”
Liudmilla could not speak for laughing, and only waved her hands.
“Of course she’s willing,” said Darya for her. “You’d better tell him at once, or else he may go off in a huff.”
Routilov entered the drawing-room and said in a whisper through the window:
“Wait, she’ll be ready at once.”
“Let her make haste,” said Peredonov angrily. “Why are they so long?”
Liudmilla was soon dressed. She was entirely ready in five minutes.
Peredonov began to think about her. She was cheerful and plump. But she was a giggler. She would always be laughing at him. That was terrible. Darya, though she was lively, was more sober. But she was quite handsome. He had better take her.
He knocked once more on the window.
“There! he’s knocking again,” said Larissa. “I wonder if he wants you now, Darya?”
“The devil!” said Routilov irritatedly, and ran to the window.
“What now?” he asked in an angry whisper. “Have you thought it over again?”
“Bring Darya,” answered Peredonov.
“Well, just wait!” whispered Routilov in a rage.
Peredonov stood there and thought of Darya, and again his brief seductive vision of her was replaced by apprehension. She was too quick and impertinent. She would make life intolerable to him. “And what on earth’s the good of standing here waiting,” reflected Peredonov, “I might get a cold. And you can’t tell, there may be someone hiding in the ditch or behind the grass, who’ll suddenly jump out and murder me.” Peredonov grew very depressed. Then again none of them had any dowry to speak of. That could command no patronage in the department of Education. Varvara would complain to the Princess. As it was the Headmaster was sharpening his teeth for Peredonov.
Peredonov began to get vexed with himself. Why was he here, entangling himself with the Routilovs? It must be that Routilov had bewitched him. Yes, he must really have bewitched him! He must make a counter-charm at once.
Peredonov twirled round on his heels, spat on each side of him and mumbled:
“Chure-churashki. Churki-balvashki, buki-bukashkii, vedi-tarakashki. Chure menya. Chure menya. Chure, chure, chure. Chure-perechure-raschiure.”7
His face wore an expression of stern attention, as if at the carrying out of a dignified ceremony. After this indispensable action he felt himself out of danger of Routilov’s spells. He struck the window decisively with his stick and muttered angrily:
“I’ve had enough of this! I won’t be enticed any further. No, I don’t want to get married today,” he announced to Routilov, whose head was thrust out of the window.
“What on earth’s the matter with you, Ardalyon Borisitch? Why, everything’s ready!” said Routilov persuasively.
“I don’t want to,” repeated Peredonov with decision. “You’d better come along with me and have a game of cards.”
“The devil take you,” exclaimed Routilov.
“He doesn’t want to get married. He’s funked it!” he announced to his sisters. “But I’ll persuade the fool yet. He’s asked me to play cards with him.”
All the sisters cried out at once, abusing Peredonov loudly.
“And you’re going out with this blackguard?” asked Valeria angrily.
“Yes, and I’ll get even with him. He has not escaped us yet by any means,” said Routilov, trying to keep a tone of assurance, but feeling very awkward.
The girls’ anger with Peredonov soon gave place to laughter. Routilov left. The girls ran to the windows.
“Ardalyon Borisitch,” exclaimed Darya. “Why can’t you make up your mind. You shouldn’t do things like this!”
“Kislyai Kislyaevitch! (Sour Sourson!)” exclaimed Liudmilla, laughingly.
Peredonov was angry. In his opinion the sisters ought
