“Of course it is true that he was often here,” said Darya, “but we shan’t let him cross our threshold again, if you object.”
“And I shall go and see Khripatch today,” said Liudmilla. “How did he get hold of that notion? Surely he doesn’t believe such a stupid tale?”
“No, I don’t think he believes it himself,” admitted Ekaterina Ivanovna. “But he says that various unpleasant rumours are going about.”
“There! You see!” exclaimed Liudmilla happily. “Of course he doesn’t believe it himself. What’s the reason of all this fuss then?”
Liudmilla’s cheerful voice deceived Ekaterina Ivanovna. She thought:
“I wonder what exactly has happened? The Headmaster does say that he doesn’t believe it.”
The sisters for a long time supported each other in persuading Ekaterina Ivanovna of the complete innocence of their relations with Sasha. To set her mind more completely at rest they were on the point of telling her in detail precisely what they did with Sasha; but they stopped short because they were all such innocent, simple things that it was difficult to remember them. And Ekaterina Ivanovna at last came to believe that her Sasha and the charming Routilovs were the innocent victims of stupid slander.
As she bade them goodbye she kissed them kindly and said:
“You’re charming, simple girls. I thought at first that you were—forgive the rude word—wantons.”
The sisters laughed gaily. Liudmilla said:
“No, we’re just happy girls with sharp little tongues and that’s why we’re not liked by some of the local geese.”
When she returned from the Routilovs Sasha’s aunt said nothing to him. He met her, feeling rather frightened and embarrassed and he looked at her cautiously and attentively. After a long deliberation with Kokovkina the aunt decided:
“I must see the Headmaster again.”
That same day Liudmilla went to see Khripatch. She sat for some time in the drawing-room with the Headmaster’s wife and then announced that she had come to see Nikolai Vassilyevitch on business.
An animated conversation took place in Khripatch’s study—not because they had much to say to one another but because they liked to chatter. And they talked rapidly to each other, Khripatch with his dry, crackling volubility, Liudmilla with her gentle, resonant prattle. With the irresistible persuasiveness of falsehood, she poured out to Khripatch her half-false story of her relations with Sasha Pilnikov. Her chief motives were, of course, her sympathy with the boy who was suffering from this coarse suspicion, her desire to take the place of Sasha’s absent family. And finally he was such a charming, unspoiled boy. Liudmilla even cried a little and her swift tears rolled down her cheeks to her half-smiling lips, giving her an extraordinary attractiveness.
“I have grown to love him like a brother,” she said. “He is a fine, lovable boy. He appreciated affection and he kissed my hands.”
“That was very good of you,” said Khripatch somewhat flustered, “and does honour to your kind feelings. But you have needlessly taken to heart the simple fact that I considered it my duty to inform the boy’s relatives of the rumours that reached me.”
Liudmilla prattled on, without listening to him, and her voice passed into a tone of gentle rebuke.
“Tell me what was wrong in our taking an interest in the boy? Why should he suffer from that coarse, mad Peredonov? When shall we be rid of him? Can’t you see yourself that Pilnikov is quite a child, really a mere child?”
She clasped her small, pretty hands together, rattled her gold bracelets, laughed softly, took her handkerchief out to dry her tears and wafted a delicate perfume towards Khripatch. And Khripatch suddenly wanted to tell her that she was “lovely as a heavenly angel,” and that this unfortunate episode “was not worth a single instant of her dear sorrow.” But he refrained.
And Liudmilla chattered on and on and dissolved into smoke the chimerical structure of the Peredonovian lie. Think of comparing the charming Liudmillotchka with the crude, dirty, insane Peredonov! Whether Liudmilla was telling the whole truth or romancing was all the same to Khripatch; but he felt that if he did not believe Liudmilla and should argue with her and take steps to punish Pilnikov it might lead to an inquiry and disgrace the whole School District. All the more since this business was bound up with Peredonov who would be found to be insane. And Khripatch smiled, saying to Liudmilla:
“I’m very sorry that this should upset you so much. I didn’t for a moment permit myself any disagreeable suspicions of your acquaintance with Pilnikov. I esteem most highly those good and kindly motives which have inspired your actions, and not for a single instant have I considered the rumours that passed in the town and those that reached me as anything but unreasonable slanders which gave me deep concern. I was obliged to inform Madame Pilnikov, especially since even more distorted rumours might have reached her, but I had no intention of distressing you and had no idea that Madame Pilnikov would come and complain to you.”
“We’ve had a satisfactory explanation with Madame Pilnikov,” said Liudmilla. “But don’t punish Sasha on our account. If our house is so dangerous for schoolboys we won’t let him come again.”
“You’re very good to him,” said Khripatch irresolutely. “We can have nothing against his visiting his acquaintances in his leisure hours, if his aunt permits it. We are very far from wishing to turn students’ lodgings into places of confinement. In any case, until the Peredonov affair is decided, it would be better for Pilnikov to remain at home.”
The accepted explanation given by the Routilov girls and by Sasha received confirmation from a terrible event which happened in the Peredonovs’ house. This finally convinced the townspeople that all the rumours about Sasha and the Routilov girls were the ravings of a madman.
XXXII
It was a cold, bleak day. Peredonov had just left Volodin. He felt depressed. Vershina lured him into the garden. He
