Best Russian Short Stories | Page 7

against him. She
chose three cards and played them one after the other: all three won
sonika, [Said of a card when it wins or loses in the quickest possible
time.] and my grandmother recovered every farthing that she had lost."
"Mere chance!" said one of the guests.
"A tale!" observed Hermann.
"Perhaps they were marked cards!" said a third.
"I do not think so," replied Tomsky gravely.
"What!" said Narumov, "you have a grandmother who knows how to

hit upon three lucky cards in succession, and you have never yet
succeeded in getting the secret of it out of her?"
"That's the deuce of it!" replied Tomsky: "she had four sons, one of
whom was my father; all four were determined gamblers, and yet not to
one of them did she ever reveal her secret, although it would not have
been a bad thing either for them or for me. But this is what I heard from
my uncle, Count Ivan Ilyich, and he assured me, on his honour, that it
was true. The late Chaplitzky--the same who died in poverty after
having squandered millions--once lost, in his youth, about three
hundred thousand roubles--to Zorich, if I remember rightly. He was in
despair. My grandmother, who was always very severe upon the
extravagance of young men, took pity, however, upon Chaplitzky. She
gave him three cards, telling him to play them one after the other, at the
same time exacting from him a solemn promise that he would never
play at cards again as long as he lived. Chaplitzky then went to his
victorious opponent, and they began a fresh game. On the first card he
staked fifty thousand rubles and won sonika; he doubled the stake and
won again, till at last, by pursuing the same tactics, he won back more
than he had lost ...
"But it is time to go to bed: it is a quarter to six already."
And indeed it was already beginning to dawn: the young men emptied
their glasses and then took leave of each other.

II
The old Countess A---- was seated in her dressing-room in front of her
looking--glass. Three waiting maids stood around her. One held a small
pot of rouge, another a box of hair-pins, and the third a tall can with
bright red ribbons. The Countess had no longer the slightest pretensions
to beauty, but she still preserved the habits of her youth, dressed in
strict accordance with the fashion of seventy years before, and made as
long and as careful a toilette as she would have done sixty years
previously. Near the window, at an embroidery frame, sat a young lady,

her ward.
"Good morning, grandmamma," said a young officer, entering the room.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmamma, I want to ask you
something."
"What is it, Paul?"
"I want you to let me introduce one of my friends to you, and to allow
me to bring him to the ball on Friday."
"Bring him direct to the ball and introduce him to me there. Were you
at B----'s yesterday?"
"Yes; everything went off very pleasantly, and dancing was kept up
until five o'clock. How charming Yeletzkaya was!"
"But, my dear, what is there charming about her? Isn't she like her
grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna? By the way, she must be
very old, the Princess Daria Petrovna."
"How do you mean, old?" cried Tomsky thoughtlessly; "she died seven
years ago."
The young lady raised her head and made a sign to the young officer.
He then remembered that the old Countess was never to be informed of
the death of any of her contemporaries, and he bit his lips. But the old
Countess heard the news with the greatest indifference.
"Dead!" said she; "and I did not know it. We were appointed maids of
honour at the same time, and when we were presented to the
Empress..."
And the Countess for the hundredth time related to her grandson one of
her anecdotes.
"Come, Paul," said she, when she had finished her story, "help me to
get up. Lizanka, where is my snuff-box?"

And the Countess with her three maids went behind a screen to finish
her toilette. Tomsky was left alone with the young lady.
"Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to the Countess?" asked
Lizaveta Ivanovna in a whisper.
"Narumov. Do you know him?"
"No. Is he a soldier or a civilian?"
"A soldier."
"Is he in the Engineers?"
"No, in the Cavalry. What made you think that he was in the
Engineers?"
The young lady smiled, but made no reply.
"Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me some new
novel, only pray don't let it be one of the present day style."
"What do you mean, grandmother?"
"That is, a novel,