Chapter 5 Fives

The Duchess came to visit my mother as promised, and my mother did not like her.I was not there when they met, but at dinner my mother told my father that she thought this Princess Zasekina was unefummetre #svuo#gaire; And that Madame is always in lawsuits and quarrels with other people—for des villalaines affairsd #argent; and that she must be a very provocative woman.But the mother added that she had invited her and her daughter to dinner tomorrow (the words "with her daughter" made me stare at my plate and eat. Because she was a neighbor after all, And it's a famous family. Hearing these words, the father told his mother that he now remembered what kind of lady she was; and that he had known the late Prince Tasekin in his youth, a well-educated but absolutely A man who does nothing, is absurd and useless; says that he is called "le parisien" in society, because he has lived in Paris for a long time; he is very rich, but he has lost all his fortune; For money,—but that's all right. You seem to have told me that you invited her daughter too; I've been told she's a very nice, well-bred lady."

"Ah! Then she is not like her mother." "Not like her father," said his father. "The duke is a fool, though well educated." Mother sighed, lost in thought.Father also fell silent.I feel very uncomfortable when they talk about it. After dinner I went out into the garden, but without a gun.I vowed never to go near the "Zasekin's Garden" again, but an irresistible force tempted me to go there again, and this time it was not in vain.I had not yet reached the fence when I saw Zinaïda.She is alone now.Holding a book in her hand, she walked slowly along the path.She didn't notice me.

I almost let her go by; but suddenly an idea occurred to me, and I coughed. She turned her head around, but didn't stop, and moved away a wide light blue strap on the round straw hat with one hand. She glanced at me, smiled faintly, and stared at the book again. I took off my hat, hesitated for a while, then walked away with a heavy heart. "Quesuis-jepourelle?" I thought to myself (God knows why) in French. A familiar sound of footsteps sounded behind me: I looked back—— Dad walked towards me with brisk steps. "Is this the princess?" he asked me. "It's the princess."

"Do you know her?" "I saw her at the Duchess's this morning." Father stopped, turned sharply on his heels, and walked back.When he caught up with Zinaïda and walked beside her, he bowed politely to her.She bowed to him too, with some surprise on her face, and put the book down.I saw her keep watching my father.My father had always been well dressed--distinctive and generous; but his figure never seemed to me more well-proportioned than it does today, nor did his gray fedora set over his already somewhat thinning curls. More fitting and prettier than today. I wanted to go up to Zinaïda, but she didn't even look at me, and went away with her book in her hands.