Gania listened attentively, but to his sister’s astonishment he was by no means so impressed by this news (which should, she thought, have been so important to him) as she had expected.
“Well, it was clear enough all along,” he said, after a moment’s reflection. “So that’s the end,” he added, with a disagreeable smile, continuing to walk up and down the room, but much slower than before, and glancing slyly into his sister’s face.
“It’s a good thing that you take it philosophically, at all events,” said Varia. “I’m really very glad of it.”
“Yes, it’s off our hands—off yours, I should say.”
“I think I have served you faithfully. I never even asked you what happiness you expected to find with Aglaya.”
“Did I ever expect to find happiness with Aglaya?”
“Come, come, don’t overdo your philosophy. Of course you did. Now it’s all over, and a good thing, too; pair of fools that we have been! I confess I have never been able to look at it seriously. I busied myself in it for your sake, thinking that there was no knowing what might happen with a funny girl like that to deal with. There were ninety to one chances against it. To this moment I can’t make out why you wished for it.”
“H’m! now, I suppose, you and your husband will never weary of egging me on to work again. You’ll begin your lectures about perseverance and strength of will, and all that. I know it all by heart,” said Gania, laughing.
“He’s got some new idea in his head,” thought Varia.
“Are they pleased over there—the parents?” asked Gania, suddenly.
“N—no, I don’t think they are. You can judge for yourself. I think the general is pleased enough; her mother is a little uneasy. She always loathed the idea of the prince as a husband; everybody knows that.”
“Of course, naturally. The bridegroom is an impossible and ridiculous one. I mean, has she given her formal consent?”
“She has not said ‘no,’ up to now, and that’s all. It was sure to be so with her. You know what she is like. You know how absurdly shy she is. You remember how she used to hide in a cupboard as a child, so as to avoid seeing visitors, for hours at a time. She is just the same now; but, do you know, I think there is something serious in the matter, even from her side; I feel it, somehow. She laughs at the prince, they say, from morn to night in order to hide her real feelings; but you may be sure she finds occasion to say something or other to him on the sly, for he himself is in a state of radiant happiness. He walks in the clouds; they say he is extremely funny just now; I heard it from themselves. They seemed to be laughing at me in their sleeves—those elder girls—I don’t know why.”
Gania had begun to frown, and probably Varia added this last sentence in order to probe his thought. However, at this moment, the noise began again upstairs.
“I’ll turn him out!” shouted Gania, glad of the opportunity of venting his vexation. “I shall just turn him out—we can’t have this.”
“Yes, and then he’ll go about the place and disgrace us as he did yesterday.”
“How ‘as he did yesterday’? What do you mean? What did he do yesterday?” asked Gania, in alarm.
“Why, goodness me, don’t you know?” Varia stopped short.
“What? You don’t mean to say that he went there yesterday!” cried Gania, flushing red with shame and anger. “Good heavens, Varia! Speak! You have just been there. Was he there or not, quick?” And Gania rushed for the door. Varia followed and caught him by both hands.
“What are you doing? Where are you going to? You can’t let him go now; if you do he’ll go and do something worse.”
“What did he do there? What did he say?”
“They couldn’t tell me themselves; they couldn’t make head or tail of it; but he frightened them all. He came to see the general, who was not at home; so he asked for Lizabetha Prokofievna. First of all, he begged her for some place, or situation, for work of some kind, and then he began to complain about us, about me and my husband, and you, especially you; he said a lot of things.”
“Oh! couldn’t you find out?” muttered Gania, trembling hysterically.
“No—nothing more than that. Why, they couldn’t understand him themselves; and very likely didn’t tell me all.”
Gania seized his head with both hands and tottered to the window; Varia sat down at the other window.
“Funny girl, Aglaya,” she observed, after a pause. “When she left me she said, ‘Give my special and personal respects to your parents; I shall certainly find an opportunity to see your father one day,’ and so serious over it. She’s a strange creature.”
“Wasn’t she joking? She was speaking sarcastically!”
“Not a bit of it; that’s just the strange part of it.”
“Does she know about father, do you think—or not?”
“That they do not know about it in the house is quite certain, the rest of them, I mean; but you have given me an idea. Aglaya perhaps knows. She alone, though, if anyone; for the sisters were as astonished as I was to hear her speak so
