Chapter 15
Chapters 28 and 29 of A House of Gentle Folk by Ivan Turgenev, translated by Konstantin Garnet. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 28 The next morning over there, T. Lem asked Lavretsky to let him have the horses to return to town.
It's time for me to set to work, that is, to my lessons, observed the old man. Besides, I am only wasting time here. Lavretsky did not reply at once. He seemed abstracted. Very good, he said at last. I will come with you myself.
Unaided by the servants, Lem, groaning and wrathful, packed his small box and tore up and burned a few sheets of music paper. The horses were harnessed. As he came out of his own room, Lavretsky put the paper he had read last night in his pocket. During the whole course of the journey both Lem and Lavretsky spoke little to one another.
Each was occupied with his own thoughts, and each was glad not to be disturbed by the other. And they parted rather coolly, which is often the way, however, with friends in Russia. Lavretsky conducted the old man to his little house. The latter got out, took his trunk, and without holding out his hand to his friend,
he was holding his trunk in both arms before his breast. Without even looking at him, he said to him in Russian, Goodbye. Goodbye, repeated Lavretsky and bade the coachman drive to his lodging. He had taken rooms in the town of O.
After writing a few letters and hastily dining, Lavretsky went to the Klitins. In their drawing room he found only Panshin, who informed him that Maria Dmitrievna would be in directly, and at once with charming cordiality entered into conversation with him. Until that day Panshin had already treated Lavretsky not exactly haughtily, but at least condescendingly. But Lisa, in describing her expedition of the previous day to Panshin,
had spoken of Lavretsky as an excellent and clever man. That was enough. He felt bound to make a conquest of an excellent man. Panshin began with compliments to Lavretsky with a description of the rapture in which, according to him, the whole family of Maria Dmitrievna spoke of Vasilyevskaya.
And then, according to his custom, passing neatly to himself, began to talk about his pursuits and his views on life, the world and government service, uttered a sentence or two upon the future of Russia and the duty of rulers to keep a strict hand over the country, and at this point laughed lightheartedly at his own expense and added that among other things he had been entrusted in Petersburg with the duty de populariser l'édier du cadastre.
He spoke somewhat at length, passing over all difficulties with careless self-confidence and playing with the weightiest administrative and political questions as a juggler plays with balls. The expressions, that's what I would do if I were in the government, you as a man of intelligence will agree with me at once, were constantly on his lips. Lavretsky listened coldly to Panshin's chatter.
He did not like this handsome, clever, easily elegant young man with his bright smile, affable voice and inquisitive eyes. Panshin, with the quick insight into the feelings of others, which was peculiar to him, soon guessed that he was not giving his companion any special satisfaction and made a plausible excuse to go away inwardly, deciding that Lavretsky might be an excellent man, but he was unattractive, egry and, on some, rather absurd.
Maria Dmitrievna made her appearance escorted by Gideonovsky, then Marfa Timofeevna and Lisa came in, and after them the other members of the household, and then the musical amateur Madame Belenitsyn arrived, a little thinnish lady with a languid, pretty, almost childish little face wearing a rustic dress, a striped fan and heavy gold bracelets. Her husband was with her a fat, red-faced man with large hands and feet, white eyelashes and an immovable smile on his thick lips. His wife never spoke to him in company, but at home, in moments of tenderness, she used to call him her little sucking pig.
Panshin returned. The rooms were very full of people and noise. Such a crowd was not to Lavretsky's taste, and he was particularly irritated by Madame Belenitsyn, who kept staring at him through her eye-glasses. He would have gone away at once but for Lisa. He wanted to say a few words to her alone, but for a long time he could not get a favorable opportunity and had to content himself with following her in secret delight with his eyes. Never had her face seemed sweeter and more noble to him. She gained much from being near Madame Belenitsyn.
The latter was forever fidgeting in her chair, shrugging her narrow shoulders, giving little girlish giggles and screwing up her eyes and then opening them wide. Lisa sat quietly, looked directly at everyone and did not laugh at all. Madame Kalitin sat down to a game of cards with Marfa Timofeevna, Madame Belenitsyn and Gideonovsky, who played very slowly and constantly made mistakes, frowning and wiping his face with his handkerchief. Punchin assumed a melancholy air and expressed himself in brief, pregnant and gloomy phrases,
played the part, in fact, of the unappreciated genius. But in spite of the entreaties of Madame Belenitsyn, who was very cockettish with him, he would not consent to sing his song. He felt Lavretsky's presence a constraint. Third Revenge also spoke little. The peculiar expression of his face struck Lisa directly he came into the room. She felt at once that he had something to tell her, and though she could not herself have said why, she was afraid to question him.
At last, as she was going into the next room to pour out tea, she involuntarily turned her head in his direction. He at once went after her. What is the matter? She said, setting the teapot on the samovar. Why, have you noticed anything? He asked. You are not the same today as I have always seen you before.
Lavretsky bent over the table. I wanted, he began, to tell you a piece of news, but now it is impossible. However, you can read what is marked with pencil in that article. He added, handing her the paper he had brought with him. Let me ask you to keep it a secret. I will come tomorrow morning.
Lisa was greatly bewildered. Panshin appeared in the doorway. She put the newspaper in her pocket. Have you read the Obeman, Lysabeta Mikhailovna? Panshin asked her pensively. Lisa made him a reply in passing and went out of the room and upstairs. Lavretsky went back to the drawing room and drew near the card table.
Maria Timofeevna, flinging back the ribbons of her cup and flushing with annoyance, began to complain of her partner Gideonovsky, who, in her words, could not play a bit. Card playing, you see? She said. Is not so easy as talking scandal. The latter continued to blink and wipe his face.
Lisa came into the drawing room and sat down in a corner. Lavretsky looked at her, she looked at him, and both felt the position insufferable. He read perplexity and a kind of secret reproachfulness in her face. He could not talk to her as he would have liked to do. To remain in the same room with her, a guest, among other guests, was too painful.
He decided to go away. As he took leave of her, he managed to repeat that he would come tomorrow and added that he trusted in her friendship. Come, she answered with the same perplexity on her face. Punching brightened up at Lavretsky's departure.
He began to give advice to Gideonovsky, paid ironical attentions to Madame Belinezen, and at last sang his song. But with Lisa he still spoke and looked as before, impressively and rather mournfully. Again, Lavretsky did not sleep all night. He was not sad. He was not agitated. He was quite calm.
But he could not sleep. He did not even remember the past. He simply looked at his life. His heart beat slowly and evenly. The hours glided by. He did not even think of sleep. Only at times the thought flashed through his brain. But it is not true. It is all nonsense.
And he stood still, bowed his head, and again began to ponder on the life before him. Chapter 29 Maria Dmitrievna did not give Lavretsky an over-cordial welcome when he made his appearance the following day. Upon my word, he is always in and out, she thought. She did not much care for him and Punchin, under whose influence she was,
had been very artful and disparaging in his praises of him the evening before. As she did not regard him as a visitor and did not consider it necessary to entertain a relation, almost one of the family, it came to pass that in less than half an hour's time he found himself walking in an avenue in the grounds with Lisa. Lenochka and Shurochka were running about a few paces from them in the flower garden.
Lisa was as calm as usual, but more than usually pale. She took out of her pocket and held out to Lavretsky the sheet of the newspaper folded up small. That is terrible, she said. Lavretsky made no reply. But perhaps it is not true, though, added Lisa.
That is why I asked you not to speak of it to anyone. Lisa walked on a little. Tell me, she began. You are not grieved, not at all? I do not know myself what I feel, replied Lavretsky.
But you loved her once? Yes. Very much? Yes. So you are not grieved at her death?
She was dead to me long ago. It is sinful to say that. Do not be angry with me. You call me your friend. A friend may say everything.
To me it is really terrible. Yesterday there was an evil look in your face. Do you remember not long ago how you abused her and she perhaps at that very time was dead? It is terrible. It has been sent to you as a punishment.
Lavretsky smiled bitterly. Do you think so? At least I am now free. Lisa gave a slight shudder. Stop!
Do not talk like that. Of what use is your freedom to you? You ought not to be thinking of that now, but of forgiveness. I forgave her long ago. Lavretsky interposed with a gesture of the hand.
No, that is not it, replied Lisa flushing. You did not understand me. You ought to be seeking to be forgiven. To be forgiven by whom? By whom?
God. Who can forgive us but God? Lavretsky seized her hand. Ah, Liza Veta Mikhailovna, believe me! He cried.
I have been punished enough as it is. I have expiated everything already, believe me. That you cannot know, Lisa murmured in an undertone. You have forgotten. Not long ago when you were talking to me you were not ready to forgive her.
She walked in silence along the avenue. And what about your daughter? Lisa asked, suddenly stopping short. Lavretsky started. Oh, don't be uneasy.
I have already sent letters in all directions. The future of my daughter as you call, as you say, is assured. Do not be uneasy. Lisa smiled mournfully. But you are right, continued Lavretsky.
What can I do with my freedom? What good is it to me? When did you get the paper? said Lisa without replying to his question. The day after your visit.
And is it possible you did not even shed tears? No, I was thunderstruck. But where were tears to come from? Should I weep over the past? But it is utterly extinct for me.
Her very fault did not destroy my happiness but only showed me that it had never been at all. What is there to weep over now? Though indeed who knows? I might perhaps have been more grieved if I had got this news a fortnight sooner. A fortnight?
repeated Lisa. But what has happened then in the last fortnight? Lavretsky made no answer and suddenly Lisa flushed even more than before. Yes, yes, you guess why, Lavretsky cried suddenly. In the course of this fortnight I have come to know the value of a pure woman's heart
and my past seems further from me than ever. Lisa was confused and went gently into the flower garden towards Lenochka and Shurochka. But I am glad I showed you that newspaper, said Lavretsky walking after her. Already I have grown used to hiding nothing from you and I hope you will repay me with the same confidence. Do you expect it? said Lisa standing still.
In that case I ought. But no, it is impossible. What is it? Tell me, tell me. Really, I believe I ought not.
After all though, added Lisa turning to Lavretsky with a smile, what's the good of half confidence? Do you know I received a letter today from Panshin? Yes, how did you know? He asks for your hand?
Yes, replied Lisa looking Lavretsky straight in the face with a serious expression. Lavretsky on his side looked seriously at Lisa. Well, and what answer have you given him? He managed to say at last. I don't know what answer to give, replied Lisa letting her clasped hands fall.
How is that? Do you love him then? Yes, I like him. He seems a nice man. You said the very same thing and in the very same words three days ago.
I want to know do you love him with that intense passionate feeling which we usually call love? As you understand it, no. You are not in love with him? No. But is that necessary?
What do you mean? Mama likes him, continued Lisa. He is kind. I have nothing against him. You hesitate, however.
Yes, and perhaps your words are the cause of it. Do you remember what you said three days ago? But that is weakness. Oh, my child, cried Lavretsky suddenly and his voice was shaking. Don't cheat yourself with sophistries.
Don't call weakness the cry of your heart. Which is not ready to give itself without love. Do not take on yourself such a fearful responsibility to this man whom you don't love. Though you are ready to belong to him. I am obeying.
I take nothing on myself. Lisa was murmuring. Obey your heart. Only that will tell you the truth. Lavretsky interrupted her.
Experience, prudence, all that is dust and ashes. Do not deprive yourself of the best of the soul happiness on earth. Do you say that, Fedor Ivanovich? You yourself married for love and were you happy? Lavretsky threw up his arms.
Ah, don't talk about me. You can't even understand all that a young, inexperienced, badly brought up boy may mistake for love. Indeed, though, after all, why should I be unfair to myself? I told you just now that I had not had happiness.
No, I was not happy. It seems to me, Fedor Ivanovich, Lisa murmured in a low voice when she did not agree with the person whom she was. The person I was talking to, she always dropped her voice and now she was deeply moved. Happiness on earth does not depend on ourselves.
On ourselves? Ourselves, believe me. He seized both her hands. Lisa grew pale and almost with terror but still steadfastly looked at him. If only we do not ruin our lives.
For some people marriage for love may be unhappiness but not for you. With your calm temperament and your clear soul I beseech you do not marry without love from a sense of duty, self-sacrifice or anything that is infidelity, that is mercenary and worse still. Believe me, I have the right to say so.
I have paid dearly for the right. And if your God had that instant Lavretsky noticed that Lenichka and Shurochka were standing near Lisa and staring in dumb amazement at him. He dropped Lisa's hands, saying hurriedly, I beg your pardon, and turned away towards the house.
One thing only I beg of you, he added returning again to Lisa, don't decide at once, wait a little. Think of what I have said to you. Even if you don't believe me, even if you did decide on a marriage of prudence, even in that case you mustn't marry Pantchen, he can't be your husband.
You will promise me not to be in a hurry, won't you? Lisa tried to answer Lavretsky but she did not utter a word, not because she was resolved to be in a hurry, but because her heart was beating too violently and a feeling akin to terror stopped her breath.
