Nothing, indeed, gave him more pleasure than to be asked for help, either in the way mentioned or in any other: for instance, to obtain free education for a boy, or to save somebody from a punishment inflicted upon him by a law court. Although he was liable to fall into fits of rage, he was undoubtedly possessed of a natural instinct toward leniency, and when his patronage was requested he would write scores of letters in all possible directions, to all sorts of persons of high standing, in favor of his protégé. At such times, his mail, which was always heavy, would be swollen by half a dozen special letters, written in a most original, semiofficial, and semi-humorous style; each of them sealed, of course, with his arms, in a big square envelope, which rattled like a baby-rattle on account of the quantity of sand it contained—the use of blotting-paper being then unknown. The more difficult the case, the more energy he would display, until he secured the favor he asked for his protégé, whom in many cases he never saw.
My father liked to have plenty of guests in his house. Our dinner-hour was four, and at seven the family gathered round the samovar (tea-urn) for tea. Everyone belonging to our circle could drop in at that hour, and from the time my sister Hélène was again with us there was no lack of visitors, old and young, who took advantage of the privilege. When the windows facing the street showed bright light inside, that was enough to let people know that the family was at home and friends would be welcome.
Nearly every night we had visitors. The green tables were opened in the hall for the card-players, while the ladies and the young people stayed in the reception-room or around Hélène’s piano. When the ladies had gone, card playing continued sometimes till the small hours of the morning, and considerable sums of money changed hands among the players. Father invariably lost. But the real danger for him was not at home: it was at the English Club, where the stakes were much higher than in private houses, and especially when he was induced to join a party of “very respectable” gentlemen, in one of the “most respectable” houses of the Old Equerries’ Quarter, where gambling went on all night. On an occasion of this kind his losses were sure to be heavy.
Dancing-parties were not infrequent, to say nothing of a couple of obligatory balls every winter. Father’s way, in such cases, was to have everything done in a good style, whatever the expense. But at the same time such niggardliness was practiced in our house in daily life that if I were to recount it, I should be accused of exaggeration. It is said of a family of pretenders to the throne of France, renowned for their truly regal hunting-parties, that in their everyday life even the tallow candles are minutely counted. The same sort of miserly economy ruled in our house with regard to everything; so much so that when we, the children of the house, grew up, we detested all saving and counting. However, in the Old Equerries’ Quarter such a mode of life only raised my father in public esteem. “The old prince,” it was said, “seems to be sharp over money at home; but he knows how a nobleman ought to live.”
In our quiet and clean lanes that was the kind of life which was most in respect. One of our neighbors, General D⸺, kept his house up in very grand style; and yet the most comical scenes took place every morning between him and his cook. Breakfast over, the old general, smoking his pipe, would himself order the dinner.
“Well, my boy,” he would say to the cook, who appeared in snow-white attire, “today we shall not be many; only a couple of guests. You will make us a soup, you know, with some spring delicacies—green peas, French beans, and so on. You have not given us any as yet, and madam, you know, likes a good French spring soup.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, anything you like as an entrée.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Of course, asparagus is not yet in season, but I saw yesterday such nice bundles of it in the shops.”
“Yes, sir; eight shillings the bundle.”
“Quite right! Then, we are sick of your roasted chickens and turkeys; you ought to get something for a change.”
“Some venison, sir?”
“Yes, yes; anything for a change.”
And when the six courses of the dinner had been decided on, the old general would ask, “Now, how much shall I give you for today’s expenses? Six shillings will do, I suppose?”
“One pound, sir.”
“What nonsense, my boy! Here are six shillings; I assure you that’s quite enough.”
“Eight shillings for asparagus, five for the vegetables.”
“Now, look here, my dear boy, be reasonable. I’ll go as high as seven-and-six, and you must be economical.”
And the bargaining would go on thus for half an hour, until the two would agree upon fourteen shillings and sixpence, with the understanding that the morrow’s dinner should not cost more than three shillings. Whereupon the general, quite happy at having made such a good bargain, would take his sledge, make a round of the fashionable shops, and return quite radiant, bringing for his wife a bottle of exquisite perfume, for which he had paid a fancy price in a French shop, and announcing to his only daughter that a new velvet mantle—“something very simple” and very costly—would be sent for her to try on that afternoon.
All our relatives, who were numerous on my father’s side, lived
