Liza | Page 5

A tall man came into the room, wearing a good enough coat, rather
short trousers, thick grey gloves, and two cravats--a black one outside,
a white one underneath. Every thing belonging to him was suggestive
of propriety and decorum, from his well-proportioned face, with locks
carefully smoothed down over the temples, to his heelless and
never-creaking boots. He bowed first to the mistress of the house, then
to Marfa Timofeevna, and afterwards, having slowly taken off his
gloves, he approached Maria Dmitrievna and respectfully kissed her
hand twice. After that he leisurely subsided into an easy-chair, and
asked, as he smilingly rubbed together the tips of his fingers--
"Is Elizaveta quite well?"
"Yes," replied Maria Dmitrievna, "she is in the garden."
"And Elena Mikhailovna?"
"Lenochka is in the garden also. Have you any news?"

"Rather!" replied the visitor, slowly screwing up his eyes, and
protruding his lips. "Hm! here is a piece of news, if you please, and a
very startling one, too. Fedor Ivanovich Lavretsky has arrived."
"Fedia!" exclaimed Marfa Timofeevna. "You're inventing, are you
not?"
"Not at all. I have seen him with my own eyes."
"That doesn't prove any thing."
"He's grown much more robust," continued Gedeonovsky, looking as if
he had not heard Marfa Timofeevna's remark; "his shoulders have
broadened, and his cheeks are quite rosy."
"Grown more robust," slowly repeated Maria Dmitrievna. "One would
think he hadn't met with much to make him robust."
"That is true indeed," said Gedeonovsky. "Any one else, in his place,
would have scrupled to show himself in the world."
"And why, I should like to know?" broke in Marfa Timofeevna. "What
nonsense you are talking! A man comes back to his home. Where else
would you have him betake himself? And, pray, in what has he been to
blame?"
"A husband is always to blame, madam, if you will allow me to say so,
when his wife behaves ill."
"You only say that, batyushka,[A] because you have never been
married."
[Footnote A: Father.]
Gedeonovsky's only reply was a forced smile. For a short time he
remained silent, but presently he said, "May I be allowed to be so
inquisitive as to ask for whom this pretty scarf is intended?"
Marfa Timofeevna looked up at him quickly.

"For whom is it intended?" she said. "For a man who never slanders,
who does not intrigue, and who makes up no falsehoods--if, indeed,
such a man is to be found in the world. I know Fedia thoroughly well;
the only thing for which he is to blame is that he spoilt his wife. To be
sure he married for love; and from such love-matches no good ever
comes," added the old lady, casting a side glance at Maria Dmitrievna.
Then, standing up, she added: "But now you can whet your teeth on
whom you will; on me, if you like. I'm off. I won't hinder you any
longer." And with these words she disappeared.
"She is always like that," said Maria Dmitrievna following her aunt
with her eyes--"always."
"What else can be expected of her at her time of life?" replied
Gedeonovsky. "Just see now! 'Who does not intrigue?' she was pleased
to say. But who is there nowadays who doesn't intrigue? It is the
custom of the present age. A friend of mine--a most respectable man,
and one, I may as well observe, of no slight rank--used to say,
'Nowadays, it seems, if a hen wants a grain of corn she approaches it
cunningly, watches anxiously for an opportunity of sidling up to it.' But
when I look at you, dear lady, I recognize in you a truly angelic nature.
May I be allowed to kiss your snow-white hand?"
Maria Dmitrievna slightly smiled, and held out her plump hand to
Gedeonovsky, keeping the little finger gracefully separated from the
rest; and then, after he had raised her hand to his lips, she drew her
chair closer to his, bent a little towards him, and asked, in a low voice--
"So you have seen him? And is he really well and in good spirits?"
"In excellent spirits," replied Gedeonovsky in a whisper.
"You haven't heard where his wife is now?"
"A short time ago she was in Paris; but she is gone away, they say, and
is now in Italy."
"Really it is shocking--Fedia's position. I can't think how he manages to

bear it. Every one, of course, has his misfortunes; but his affairs, one
may say, have become known all over Europe."
Gedeonovsky sighed.
"Quite so, quite so! They say she has made friends with artists and
pianists; or, as they call them there, with lions and other wild beasts.
She has completely lost all sense of shame--"
"It's very, very sad," said Maria Dmitrievna; "especially for a relation.
You know, don't you, Sergius