The Awakening | Page 5

the
mistress which they occasioned; contemplating herself in the mirror,
rouging her face, darkening her eyebrows. Then came the sweet, rich
food, the bright silk dress, the entry into the brightly lighted parlor, the
arrival of the guests, music, dancing, confectionery, wine and
cigarettes.
Thus Maslova lived for seven years. On the eighth, when she had
reached her twenty-sixth year, there happened that for which she had
been jailed, and for which she was now led to the court, after six
months of confinement among thieves and murderers.

CHAPTER III.
At the time when Maslova, exhausted by the long walk, was
approaching with the armed convoy the building in which court was
held, the same nephew of the ladies that brought her up, Prince Dmitri
Ivanovitch Nekhludoff, who deceived her, lay on his high, soft, spring
feather-bed, in spotless Holland linen, smoking a cigarette. He was
gazing before him, contemplating the events of the previous day and
considering what he had before him for that day. As he thought of the
previous evening, spent at the Korchagins, a wealthy and influential
family, whose daughter, rumor had it, he was to marry, he sighed, and
throwing away the butt of his cigarette, he was on the point of taking
another from the silver cigarette holder, but changed his mind. Half
rising, he slipped his smooth, white feet into the slippers, threw a silk
morning gown over his broad shoulders, and with quick and heavy
stride, walked into the adjoining dressing-room, which was permeated
with the artificial odors of elixirs, perfumes, cosmetics. There he
washed his partly gold-filled teeth with a tooth-powder, rinsed them
with a perfumed mouth-wash, then began to sponge himself and dry his
body with Turkish towels. After washing his hands with perfumed soap,
carefully brushing his trimmed nails and washing his face and stout

neck in a marble basin, he walked into a third room, where a
shower-bath was ready. Here he received a cold-water douche, and
after rubbing his white and muscular body with coarse towels and
donning his white linen, he seated himself before the mirror and began
to brush his short, curly beard and the thinning curls of his forehead.
Everything used by him--the linen, clothing, shoes, scarfs, scarf-pins,
cuff-buttons, were of the very best quality, simple, tasteful and
expensive.
He then picked out the first of a dozen scarfs and pins that came into
his hand--it was no more novel and amusing, as it used to be--and he
was quite indifferent as to which he put on. He dressed himself in his
brushed clothes which lay on the chair and went out, though not quite
refreshed, yet clean and fragrant. In the oblong dining-room, the inlaid
floor of which had been polished by three of his men the day before,
and containing a massive oaken sideboard and a similar extension table,
the legs of which were carved in the shape of lion's paws, giving it a
pompous appearance, breakfast stood ready for him. A fine, starched
cloth with large monograms was spread on the table, on which stood a
silver coffee-pot, containing fragrant, steaming coffee, a sugar bowl
and cream pitcher to match, fresh rolls and various kinds of biscuits.
Beside them lay the last number of the "Revue des deux Mondes,"
newspapers and his mail. Nekhludoff was about to open the letters,
when a middle-aged woman, with a lace head-gear over her unevenly
parted hair, glided into the room. This was Agrippina Petrovna, servant
of his mother, who died in this very house. She was now stewardess to
the son.
Agrippina Petrovna had traveled many years abroad with Nekhludoff's
mother, and had acquired the manners of a lady. She had lived in the
house of the Nekhludoffs since childhood, and knew Dmitri Ivanovitch
when he was called by the diminutive Mitenka.
"Good-morning, Dmitri Ivanovitch."
"How do you do, Agrippina Petrovna? What's the news?" asked
Nekhludoff, jesting.

"A letter from the old Princess, or the young one, perhaps. The maid
brought it long ago, and is now waiting in my room," said Agrippina
Petrovna, handing him the letter with a significant smile.
"Very well; I will attend to it immediately," said Nekhludoff, taking the
letter and then, noticing the smile on Agrippina's face, he frowned.
The smile on Agrippina's face signified that the letter came from
Princess Korchagin, whom, according to Agrippina Petrovna, he was to
marry. And this supposition, expressed by her smile, displeased
Nekhludoff.
"Then I will bid her wait," and Agrippina Petrovna glided out of the
dining-room, first replacing the crumb-brush, which lay on the table, in
its holder.
Nekhludoff opened the perfumed letter and began to read:
"In fulfillment of the duty I assumed of being your memory," the letter
ran, "I call to your mind that you have been summoned