Chapter 6 "Yao Neiqi" III

three The next evening he rode to the Turkins in a carriage to propose.But it came at an unfortunate time, because a barber was doing her hair in Catherine's room.She is getting ready to go to the dance at the club. Again he had to sit idle in the dining room, drinking tea.Ivan Podrovitch, noticing the pensive and impatient look of his visitor, took some papers from his waistcoat pocket and read a ridiculous letter.It was from his German steward, reporting that "all the morals are crooked and shame is gone" at the estate. ①The German superintendent used the wrong word. He wanted to say: "All the latches are broken, and a wall is down."

"The dowry will probably not be less," thought Startsev, listening absent-mindedly. After a sleepless night, he was now in a drowsy state, as if someone had drunk him with hypnotic rum: he was dazed, but happy and warm.Meanwhile a cool, stern voice in his head was arguing: "Let's end it early! Are you two a good match? She's spoiled and quick-tempered, and sleeps till two o'clock in the afternoon; and you, a deacon's son, the local doctor." "So what?" he thought, "I don't care." "Besides, if you marry her," the voice went on, "her family will force you to leave your job as a local doctor and live in the city."

"What's the point?" he thought. "It's nice to live in the city. They'll give you a dowry, and we can decorate..." Finally, Ekaterina finally came out.She wore a dance dress with bare breasts and back, so beautiful, so pure and lovely, that Startsev was so fascinated by it that he couldn't even say a word, but just looked at her and smiled silly. She began to say goodbye to everyone. As for him, it was no longer interesting to stay, so he got up and said that he should go back too: there are patients waiting. "That can't be helped," said Ivan Petrovitch. "Please do as you please. But please take Kotik to the club."

It was drizzling outside and it was very dark. Only by Pantelaimon's hoarse cough could he deduce where the carriage was parked.The canopy is already up. "I walk on the rug, and you lie on the carpet," said Ivan Petrovitch, as he helped his daughter into the carriage. "He lied when he walked. . . . Let's go! Good-bye, please!" They drove away. "I went to the cemetery last night," Startsev began, "you did it too meanly, too cruelly..." "Did you go to the cemetery?" "Yes, I went there and waited for you until it was almost two o'clock. I am so miserable..."

"Since you don't know how to joke, you'll be miserable." Ekaterina Ivanovna burst out laughing, feeling very proud at the thought of having so skillfully played tricks on a man who loved her, and who loved her so passionately.Suddenly she gave a cry of surprise, for the two horses turned sharply towards the club gate, and the carriage tipped.Startsev took advantage of the situation to put his arms around her waist, and she fell into his arms, still in shock.He couldn't help it, so he kissed her lips and her chin passionately, and hugged her even tighter. "Cut it off," she said dryly.

In a blink of an eye, she had already got out of the car.The gate of the club was brightly lit, and a policeman yelled at Pantelaimon in a disgusted tone: "Why did you stop, you stupid bird! Get the car away!" Startsev drove home, but returned soon after.He puts on a borrowed frock coat with a stiff white cravat that somehow keeps sticking up and trying to slip away from the neckline.At midnight, sitting in the drawing-room of the club, he said to Ekaterina Ivanovna affectionately: "Oh, how does one who has never been in love know what love is? In my opinion, no one has ever described love accurately, and this tender, joyful and painful feeling may not be able to be expressed in words. Who has experienced Having lived through such a feeling, even once, he would not express it in words. Why bother with a preface and a heart-to-heart? What is the use of rhetoric? My love knows no bounds. . . . I beg you, I beg you," Startsev finally said, "be my wife!"

"Dmitry Yaovitch," said Ekaterina Ivanovna, thinking for a moment, with the utmost seriousness, "Dmitri Yaovitch, I am very grateful to you for your love." , I respect you, but..." She stood up abruptly, and went on: "But, excuse me, I cannot be your wife. Let us have a serious talk. You know, Dmitry Ionich , I love art more than anything in life. I love music like crazy, I worship music, I want to dedicate my life to it. I want to be a singer, I long for fame, achievement and freedom, and You want me to stay in this city, to live this empty, boring life, which I can no longer bear. To be your wife—oh, no, please forgive me! One should seek a noble and Brilliant goals, and family life will only bind me forever. Dmitry Yaonecch (here she smiles, because the name reminds her of "Alexey Feofiraktich") , Dmitry Yaonecch, you are a kind, noble, intelligent person, no one can compare to you..." She burst into tears: "I have great sympathy for you, but... but You have to understand..."

Afraid of crying, she quickly turned and ran out of the living room. Startsev's heart stopped beating violently.The first thing he did when he stepped out of the club into the street was to tear off the stiff tie and let out a long breath.He felt a little humiliated, his pride hurt—he hadn't expected the rejection—and he couldn't believe that all his fantasies, infatuations, and hopes had brought him to such an embarrassing end that it was almost like an amateur show a little play.He was sad for his own feelings, for his first love, so sad that he wanted to cry, or hit Pantelaimon's broad back with his umbrella.

For two or three days he was not in the mood for work, did not eat or sleep, but when the news came that Ekaterina Ivanovna had gone to Moscow to enter the Conservatory, he calmed down and resumed his former life. kind of life. Later, when he occasionally recalled how he wandered in the cemetery and how he ran all over the city to borrow a dress, he always stretched slowly and said: "What a nuisance, really!"