Viérotchka told her.
“No, I did not hear any such words. Viéra, are you sure that you told me right? You be careful!”
“No, no! You will never hear any such words from them. Let us go home. I cannot remain here any longer.”
“What’s that you say, you nasty thing?” Marya Alekséyevna’s eyes grew bloodshot.
“Let us go home. Do with me as you please afterwards, but I will not stay here. I will tell you why when we go. Mámenka,”—this word was said loud enough for all to hear—“I have a very bad headache. I cannot remain here. I beg of you!”
Viérotchka stood up.
The young men were confused.
“It will pass away, Viérotchka,” said Marya Alekséyevna, sternly but decorously. “Just take a walk through the corridor with Mikhaïl Ivanuitch, and your headache will go off.”
“No, it will not go off; I feel very bad; quick, mámenka!”
The gentlemen opened the door; each wanted to offer Viérotchka his arm, but the detestable young girl refused. They handed the ladies the cloaks; they escorted them down to the carriage. Marya Alekséyevna looked haughtily at the waiters. “Look you, serfs! what cavaliers these are; and this one here is going to be my son-in-law. I myself will have such serfs. And you put on airs, put on airs if you dare, you nasty thing, you! I will put them on for you!” But wait, wait; the son-in-law is saying something to her ugly but proud little girl, while he is putting her into the carriage. “Santé, that must mean health; savoir, that’s ‘I know’; visite, the same as in Russian; permettez, ‘I beg your pardon.’ ”
Marya Alekséyevna’s anger was not less diminished by these words, but she had to take them into consideration. The carriage drove away.
“What did he say to you when he put you in?”
“He said that he would call tomorrow morning to learn about my health.”
“Ain’t you lying? do you mean tomorrow?”
Viérotchka was silent.
“You are a lucky girl.” Marya Alekséyevna could not resist pulling her daughter’s hair, only once, and not violently.
“Nu! I will not lay my finger on you if you will only behave tomorrow. Sleep tonight, you fool! Don’t you dare to weep! Look out, if I see tomorrow morning that you are pale, or that your eyes are red with crying. I have let things go so far; I shall not stand it any longer. I shall not take pity on your pretty little face. If you lose this chance, I will teach you how to act.”
“I ceased to weep long, long ago; you know it.”
“That is all right [to-to-zhe]; but try to be a little more sociable with him.”
“Yes, I will speak with him tomorrow.”
“That’s all right [to-to]; it’s time you came to your senses. Fear God, and have pity on your mother, you shameless thing!”
Ten minutes passed.
“Viérotchka, don’t be angry with me. I scold you because I love you; I want to be good to you. You have no idea how dear children are to their mothers. I brought you forth with pain. Viérotchka, be grateful, be obedient; you yourself will see that it is for your own good. Behave as I tell you. Tomorrow he will offer himself.”
“Mámenka, you are mistaken. He has no thought of offering himself. Mámenka, if you had heard what they said!”
“I know. If they were not talking about a wedding, then it was about something else. Da! let ’em try it; they’ll find they’ve got the wrong ones to deal with. We’ll bend him into a ram’s horn. I’ll bring him into church in a bag; I’ll drag him around the chancel by the whiskers, and he will be glad of it. Nu! but I have said enough. A young girl should not know about these things; it’s the mother’s business. But a young girl must be obedient; she don’t know anything yet. Now will you speak with him as I tell you?”
“Yes, I will speak with him.”
“And you, Pavel Konstantinuitch, what are you sitting up for like a stump! Tell her yourself that you, as her father, command her to obey her mother, and that her mother will certainly teach her no evil.”
“Marya Alekséyevna, you are a clever woman, but this is rather a dangerous step; if you don’t look out, you will carry things too far.”
“Durak [fool]! that’s nice kind of talk; and in Viérotchka’s presence, too! I am sorry that I let you speak. The proverb tells the truth: ‘Don’t touch filth if you don’t want to smell.’ Perfect nonsense! Don’t argue, but answer; must a daughter obey her mother or not?”
“Of course she must; what’s the use of speaking, Marya Alekséyevna?”
“Nu! give her your orders then, since you are her father.”
“Viérotchka, obey your mother in everything. Your mother is a clever woman, a woman of experience. She will tell you nothing bad. I command you as your father.”
The carriage stopped at the gate.
“That’s enough, mámenka. I told you that I would speak with him. I am very tired. I must rest.”
“Go to bed; get some sleep. I shall not disturb you. You must be fresh for tomorrow. Sleep well.”
In fact, all the time that they were climbing the stairs, Marya Alekséyevna held her peace; and it was a great effort for her; and what an effort it was for her to be pleasant when Viérotchka went directly to her room, saying that she did not care for tea! and what an effort it was for her to say in a pleasant voice, “Viérotchka, come to me.” The daughter obeyed. “I want to give you my blessing before you go to sleep, Viérotchka. Bend your little head.” The daughter bent her head. “May God bless you, Viérotchka, as
