The Idiot (90 page)

This news completely stunned Lizaveta Prokofyevna. One might have wondered why. But such, apparently, was the mood that had assailed her. Her alarm was aroused in an extreme degree, and the main thing was the hedgehog: what was the meaning of the hedgehog? What was agreed here? What was implied here? What sort of signal was it? Was it some kind of telegram? What was more, poor Ivan Fyodorovich, who happened to be present at the interrogation, completely spoiled it all with his answer. In his opinion, there was no telegram here, and the hedgehog was ‘just a hedgehog, that’s all — it probably also meant friendship, the forgetting of injuries and reconciliation, in a word, it was all a prank, but at all events an innocent and excusable one’.

Let us note in parenthesis that his guess was correct. The prince, returning home from Aglaya derided and banished, had already been sitting for about half an hour in the most gloomy despair, when Kolya suddenly appeared with the hedgehog. At once the sky grew bright again; the prince rose from the dead, as it were, questioned Kolya, hung on his every word, re-questioned him a dozen times, laughed like a child and kept squeezing the hands of both boys, who were laughing and looking at him brightly. So it emerged that Aglaya had forgiven him and the prince could go and see her again that very same evening, and for him that was not only the main thing, but even everything.

‘What children we are still, Kolya! And ... and ... how good it is that we’re children!’ he exclaimed with rapture, at last.

‘It’s quite simple, she’s in love with you, Prince, and that’s all!’ Kolya replied with imposing authority.

The prince flushed, but this time said not a word, and Kolya merely laughed and clapped his hands; a moment later the prince also burst out laughing, and then after that looked at his watch every five minutes, to see how much time had passed and how much remained until evening.

But her mood got the better of her: Lizaveta Prokofyevna at last could restrain herself no more, and abandoned herself to a moment of hysteria. In spite of all the objections of her spouse and daughters, she at once sent for Aglaya in order to ask her a final question and receive from her a clear and final answer. ‘In order to get this over with now, and off our shoulders, so that we don’t have to mention it again! Otherwise,’ she declared, ‘I shall not survive until evening!’ And only at that point did they all realize what confusion the matter had reached. Apart from feigned surprise, indignation, laughter and mockery of the prince and all who asked her questions, they obtained nothing from Aglaya. Lizaveta took to her bed and came out for tea at the time when the prince was expected. She awaited the prince with trepidation, and when he appeared she almost had a fit of hysterics.

But the prince entered timidly, almost as though he were feeling his way, smiling strangely, peering into everyone’s eyes as if he were asking them all a question, because Aglaya was again not in the room, which at once alarmed him. That evening there were no outsiders, only members of the family. Prince Shch. was still in St Petersburg in connection with the business concerning Yevgeny Pavlovich’s uncle. ‘If only he were here and would say something,’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna lamented about him. Ivan Fyodorovich sat with an exceedingly worried demeanour; the sisters were grave and, as if on purpose, said nothing. Lizaveta Prokofyevna did not know how to start the conversation. At last, she suddenly poured energetic abuse on the railway system, and looked at the prince with an air of decided challenge.

Alas! Aglaya did not appear, and the prince was lost. Barely able to mouth his words, and perplexed, he began to express the opinion that the repair of the railway was an extremely useful thing, but Adelaida suddenly began to laugh, and the prince was crushed again. It was at this very moment that Aglaya entered calmly and grandly, made a ceremonious bow to the prince, and solemnly took the most conspicuous place at the circular table. She gave the prince a questioning look. Everyone realized that the resolution of all their bewilderment had begun.

‘Did you receive my hedgehog?’ she asked firmly and almost angrily.

‘Yes, I did,’ replied the prince, blushing and with sinking heart.

‘Then please explain at once what you think of it? It is necessary for Mama’s peace of mind, and for that of the entire household.’

‘Listen, Aglaya ...’ the general suddenly began to grow uneasy.

‘This, this goes beyond all limits!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna was suddenly alarmed for some reason.

‘There are no limits here,
Maman,’
the daughter replied sternly and at once. ‘I sent the prince a hedgehog today and wish to know his opinion. Well, Prince?’

‘Er, what sort of opinion, Aglaya?’

‘About the hedgehog.’

‘Er ... I think, Aglaya Ivanovna, that you want to know how I received ... the hedgehog ... or, rather, how I looked ... upon this sending ... of a hedgehog, well ... in that case, I suppose that ... in a word ...’

He lost his breath, and was silent.

‘Well, you haven’t said much,’ Aglaya waited for about five seconds. ‘Very well, I agree to leave the hedgehog; but I’m very glad that at last I’m able to put an end to all the misunderstandings that have accumulated. Permit me, at last, to learn from you yourself and in person: do you seek me as a match, or not?’

‘Oh, merciful Lord!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna blurted out.

The prince gave a shudder and started back; Ivan Fyodorovich froze; the sisters frowned.

‘Do not lie, Prince, tell the truth. Because of you I am being pursued with strange questions; so, do these questions have any foundation? Well?’

‘I have not sought you as a match, Aglaya Ivanovna,’ said the prince, growing suddenly animated, ‘but... you know yourself how I love you and how I believe in you ... even now ...’

‘What I asked you was: are you asking for my hand in marriage, or not?’

‘I am,’ his heart sinking, the prince replied.

There followed a general and violent commotion.

‘This is all wrong,
mon cher ami,’
said Ivan Fyodorovich, intensely agitated, ‘it’s... it’s almost impossible, if that is true, Glasha ... Forgive me, Prince, forgive me, my dear fellow! ... Lizaveta Prokofyevna!’ he turned to his spouse for help, ‘we ought to ... go into this...’

‘I refuse, I refuse!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna began to wave her arms about.

‘Then permit me to speak,
Maman;
after all, I myself am of some significance in this matter: an extremely important moment in my fate is being decided (Aglaya actually used this expression), and I want to find out for myself and am, moreover, glad that it’s happening when everyone is present... So permit me to ask you, Prince, if you “nourish such intentions”, then how exactly do you intend to provide my happiness?’

‘Truly, I don’t know how to answer you, Aglaya Ivanovna: in such a case ... in such a case what can one reply? And in fact, is any reply ... needed?’

‘You seem embarrassed and out of breath; rest for a little and gather new strength; drink a glass of water; and gather new strength; drink a glass of water; though you’ll be served tea presently.’

‘I love you, Aglaya Ivanovna, I love you very much; I love only you and ... please don’t joke about it, I love you very much.’

‘But, however, this is an important matter; we are not children, and one must look at every aspect ... Now try to explain, what does your fortune consist of?’

‘Tut-tut-tut, Aglaya. What are you thinking of? It’s wrong, wrong ...’ Ivan Fyodorovich muttered in alarm.

‘Disgraceful!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna whispered loudly.

‘She’s taken leave of her senses!’ Alexandra whispered, also loudly.

‘Fortune ... You mean money?’ The prince was astonished.

‘Precisely.’

‘I have ... I now have one hundred and thirty-five thousand roubles,’ muttered the prince, starting to blush.

‘Is that all?’ Aglaya said in loud and open astonishment, not blushing at all. ‘Though actually, it’s all right; especially if one’s economical ... Do you intend to join the civil service?’

‘I had it in mind to take the examination to qualify as a domestic tutor ...’

‘Very appropriate; of course, that will increase our wealth. Do you plan to be a gentleman of the bedchamber?’

‘A gentleman of the bedchamber? I certainly didn’t envisage that, but ...’

But here the two sisters could not restrain themselves from bursting into laughter. Adelaida had long ago noticed in the twitching features of Aglaya’s face the signs of swift and uncontainable laughter, which she was so far managing to hold back with all her might. Aglaya began to cast threatening glances at her laughing sisters, but in a second she too could hold out no longer and dissolved in the maddest, almost hysterical laughter ; at last she leaped to her feet and ran out of the room.

‘I knew she was simply doing it as a joke, and nothing else!’ exclaimed Adelaida. ‘right from the beginning, from the hedgehog.’

‘No, this I will not allow, I will not allow it!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna suddenly boiled over with anger and quickly turned to follow Aglaya. The sisters at once ran after her. In the room only the prince and the paterfamilias were left.

‘This, this ... could you have imagined anything like it, Lev Nikolaich?’ the general exclaimed abruptly, apparently not knowing himself what he wanted to say. ‘No, seriously, seriously?’

‘I see that Aglaya Ivanovna was laughing at me,’ the prince replied sadly.

‘Wait, brother; I’ll go, and you wait ... so ... can you at least explain, Lev Nikolaich, you at least, how all this happened, and what it all means, in all its, as it were, entirety? Brother, you must admit: I am her father; in spite of everything, I am, after all, her father, so I don’t understand any of this; then will you at least explain?’

‘I love Aglaya Ivanovna; she knows that and ... has known it for a long time, I think.’

The general shrugged his shoulders.

‘Strange, strange ... and you love her very much?’

‘Yes.’

‘I find all this strange, strange. I mean, it’s such a surprise and a shock that ... You see, dear fellow, it’s not the size of your fortune (though I expected you would have a little more), but ... my daughter’s happiness ... are you able to ... provide it ... her happiness? And ... and ... what is this: is it a joke, or is it serious on her part? I don’t mean yours, but hers?’

The voice of Alexandra Ivanovna was heard outside the door: Papa was being summoned.

‘Wait, brother, wait! Wait and think it over, and I’ll be back in a moment...’ he said hastily, and rushed off in response to Alexandra’s summons, almost in fear.

He found his spouse and daughter in each other’s embrace and showering each other with tears. They were tears of happiness, tender emotion and reconciliation. Aglaya was kissing her mother’s hands, cheeks, lips; they were nestling warmly against each other.

‘Well now, look at her, Ivan Fyodorych, that’s what she’s really like now!’ said Lizaveta Prokofyevna.

Aglaya turned her small, happy and tear-stained face away from her mother’s bosom, glanced at her papa, burst into loud laughter, jumped over to him, tightly embraced him and kissed him several times. Then she rushed back to her mother and completely hid her face in her bosom, so that no one would see, and at once began to cry again. Lizaveta Prokofyevna covered her with the end of her shawl.

‘Now, what, what are you doing to us, you cruel little girl, after this, that’s what I want to know!’ she said, but joyfully now, as though she had suddenly found it easier to breathe.

‘Cruel! Yes, cruel!’ Aglaya suddenly chimed in. ‘Rotten! Spoilt! Tell it to papa. Oh, but of course he’s here. Papa, you’re here? Listen!’ she burst out laughing through tears.

‘Chère amie,
my idol!’ the general kissed her hand, beaming all over with happiness. (Aglaya did not take her hand away.) So you love this ... young man? ...’

‘Not at all! I cannot stand ... your young man, I can’t stand him!’ Aglaya suddenly boiled over, raising her head. ‘And if you dare again, Papa ... I mean it seriously; you hear; I mean it seriously!’

And she really did mean it seriously: she had even gone quite red, and her eyes glistened. Her papa stopped short in alarm, but Lizaveta Prokofyevna made a sign to him behind Aglaya’s back, and he took it to mean: ‘Don’t question her.’

‘If that is so, my angel, then of course it’s as you wish, you may do as you please, he is waiting there alone; ought I not to hint to him discreetly that he should go?’

The general winked at Lizaveta Prokofyevna in his turn.

‘No, no, that is really not necessary; especially if you do it “discreetly”: go out to him yourself; I’ll come out after you, in a moment. I want to apologize to that ... young man, because I insulted him.’

‘And insulted him well and truly,’ Ivan Fyodorovich confirmed, in a serious tone.

‘Well, then ... you’d better stay here, and I’ll go first, alone; you’ll follow me at once, and arrive the very next second; it will be best that way.’

She had already gone as far as the door, but suddenly turned back.

‘I shall burst into laughter! I shall die of laughter!’ she said sadly.

But at that same second she turned round and ran towards the prince.

‘Well, what is it, then? What do you think?’ Ivan Fyodorovich said quickly.

‘I’m afraid to say it,’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna replied, also quickly, ‘but, in my opinion, it’s clear.’

‘And I think the same way. It’s as clear as daylight. She loves him.’

‘Not only that, she’s in love!’ replied Alexandra Ivanovna. ‘But think who with!’

‘God bless her, if that is her fate!’ Lizaveta Prokofyevna crossed herself devoutly.

‘It must be,’ the general confirmed, ‘and fate cannot be avoided!’

And they all went into the drawing room, where another surprise awaited them.

Not only did Aglaya not burst out laughing when she went in to see the prince, as she had feared, she even said to him, almost timidly: