The Party | Page 6

you to excuse her. She
is not very well."
"How unkind of her! I have been expecting her all day. Is it long since
you left Petersburg?" Olga Mihalovna asked the student. "What kind of
weather have you there now?" And without waiting for an answer, she
looked cordially at the schoolboys and repeated:
"How tall they have grown! It is not long since they used to come with
their nurse, and they are at school already! The old grow older while
the young grow up. . . . Have you had dinner?"
"Oh, please don't trouble!" said the student.
"Why, you have not had dinner?"
"For goodness' sake, don't trouble!"
"But I suppose you are hungry?" Olga Mihalovna said it in a harsh,
rude voice, with impatience and vexation--it escaped her unawares, but
at once she coughed, smiled, and flushed crimson. "How tall they have
grown!" she said softly.
"Please don't trouble!" the student said once more.
The student begged her not to trouble; the boys said nothing; obviously
all three of them were hungry. Olga Mihalovna took them into the
dining-room and told Vassily to lay the table.
"How unkind of your mamma!" she said as she made them sit down.
"She has quite forgotten me. Unkind, unkind, unkind . . . you must tell
her so. What are you studying?" she asked the student.
"Medicine."

"Well, I have a weakness for doctors, only fancy. I am very sorry my
husband is not a doctor. What courage any one must have to perform an
operation or dissect a corpse, for instance! Horrible! Aren't you
frightened? I believe I should die of terror! Of course, you drink
vodka?"
"Please don't trouble."
"After your journey you must have something to drink. Though I am a
woman, even I drink sometimes. And Mitya and Kolya will drink
Malaga. It's not a strong wine; you need not be afraid of it. What fine
fellows they are, really! They'll be thinking of getting married next."
Olga Mihalovna talked without ceasing; she knew by experience that
when she had guests to entertain it was far easier and more comfortable
to talk than to listen. When you talk there is no need to strain your
attention to think of answers to questions, and to change your
expression of face. But unawares she asked the student a serious
question; the student began a lengthy speech and she was forced to
listen. The student knew that she had once been at the University, and
so tried to seem a serious person as he talked to her.
"What subject are you studying?" she asked, forgetting that she had
already put that question to him.
"Medicine."
Olga Mihalovna now remembered that she had been away from the
ladies for a long while.
"Yes? Then I suppose you are going to be a doctor?" she said, getting
up. "That's splendid. I am sorry I did not go in for medicine myself. So
you will finish your dinner here, gentlemen, and then come into the
garden. I will introduce you to the young ladies."
She went out and glanced at her watch: it was five minutes to six. And
she wondered that the time had gone so slowly, and thought with horror
that there were six more hours before midnight, when the party would

break up. How could she get through those six hours? What phrases
could she utter? How should she behave to her husband?
There was not a soul in the drawing-room or on the verandah. All the
guests were sauntering about the garden.
"I shall have to suggest a walk in the birchwood before tea, or else a
row in the boats," thought Olga Mihalovna, hurrying to the croquet
ground, from which came the sounds of voices and laughter.
"And sit the old people down to vint. . . ." She met Grigory the footman
coming from the croquet ground with empty bottles.
"Where are the ladies?" she asked.
"Among the raspberry-bushes. The master's there, too."
"Oh, good heavens!" some one on the croquet lawn shouted with
exasperation. "I have told you a thousand times over! To know the
Bulgarians you must see them! You can't judge from the papers!"
Either because of the outburst or for some other reason, Olga
Mihalovna was suddenly aware of a terrible weakness all over,
especially in her legs and in her shoulders. She felt she could not bear
to speak, to listen, or to move.
"Grigory," she said faintly and with an effort, "when you have to serve
tea or anything, please don't appeal to me, don't ask me anything, don't
speak of anything. . . . Do it all yourself, and . . . and don't make a noise
with your feet, I entreat you. . . . I can't, because .