Viérotchka could hardly restrain herself from smiling too frankly; but gradually it seemed to her—but how did it seem to her? No; it can’t be so! Yes; it must be! he must be speaking, not to Marya Alekséyevna, though he answers her questions, but to her, Viérotchka; that he is making fun of Marya Alekséyevna; that the seriousness and the truth which underlies what he says is meant only for her, Viérotchka.
Whether it only seemed so to Viérotchka, or whether it was really so, who can say? He knew, and she afterwards found out. But for the rest of us, perhaps there is no need of knowing; for we want only facts. And the fact was that Viérotchka, as she listened to Lopukhóf, at first smiled, but afterwards became serious, and imagined that he was speaking, not with Marya Alekséyevna, but with her, not in jest, but in earnest; and Marya Alekséyevna, who had taken in solemn earnest all that Lopukhóf said from the beginning, turned to Viérotchka, and said:—
“Viérotchka, my dear, what’s become of your thoughts?13 You are acquainted now with Dmitri Sergéitch; you’d better ask him to play your accompaniment for you, and give us a song.”
By this she meant to intimate: “We have great respect for you, Dmitri Sergéitch, and we want you to be a good friend in our family. And you, Viérotchka, don’t be coy to Dmitri Sergéitch; I am going to tell Mikhaïl Ivanuitch that he’s got a bride of his own, and Mikhaïl Ivanuitch will not be jealous of him.”
This was what was meant to be understood by Viérotchka and Dmitri Sergéitch; he was now in Marya Alekséyevna’s thoughts not the tutor but Dmitri Sergéitch. But for Marya Alekséyevna herself, these words had a third interpretation which was very natural and real: “We must flatter him a little; his acquaintance may be of some use to us by and by when he gets to be rich, the rascal.” This was the general signification of Marya Alekséyevna’s word for herself; but beside the general signification there was also a special thought: “When I have flattered him a little, I will tell him that we are poor people; that it is hard for me to pay him a silver ruble a lesson.”
So many different meanings were in Marya Alekséyevna’s words! Dmitri Sergéitch said that he would finish his lesson first, and then it would give him pleasure to play on the piano.
VII
Marya Alekséyevna’s words had many interpretations, and they were not less fecund in results. On the side of the special signification—that is, as regarded the reduction in the price of the lessons—Marya Alekséyevna attained greater success than she anticipated: when, after two more lessons, she insinuated that they were poor people, Dmitri Sergéitch at first stuck to his price—stuck to it strenuously; for a long time he did not yield—long insisted on his three paper rubles. (It must be remembered that at this time the three-ruble note was worth only seventy kopeks.) Marya Alekséyevna did not expect to beat down his price, but, contrary to all her expectations, succeeded in reducing the price to sixty kopeks a lesson. Apparently the special signification of her words—the hope of beating down the price—contradicted her high opinion of Dmitri Sergéitch (not of Lopukhóf, but of Dmitri Sergéitch) as of a man shrewd in money matters. “What would make a man, who is a keen financier, give in about money on account of our poverty?” And if Dmitri Sergéitch did yield, then, consequently, one would be disappointed in him, and find in him a shortsighted man, and therefore a man to be avoided. Of course she would judge that way in the case of a stranger; but human beings are so created that it is hard for them to judge of their own affairs according to the general rule. A man is extremely apt to make exceptions in his own favor.14 What can be done with this peculiarity of the human heart? It is bad; it is injurious; but Marya Alekséyevna was unfortunately not exempted from this fault, which is the almost universal affliction of the penurious, of the sneaks, and of the wicked. There is salvation from it in only two extreme and opposite kinds of moral right. A man may reach such a lofty plane of transcendental rascality that he becomes the eighth wonder of the world for his virtuosity in crime, like Ali Pasha Yaninska, Djezzar Pasha of Syria, Muhammad Ali of Egypt, all of whom deceived the European diplomats (and Djezzar deceived Napoleon the Great) as though they were children. When rascality has enclosed a man around with such an absolutely impregnable armor, that it is absolutely impossible to reach any human weakness, ambition, love of honors, love of command, love of self, or anything else, he is safe; but such heroes of rascality are very rare; you can scarcely find them in the countries of