Part 11

In the morning they met under the verandah of the Kursaal. There was only a month left before they returned to Petersburg, and how much there was to talk over, how much for them to say to each other. They had to tell each other how they had fallen in love at sight, at their very first meeting, even then, at Rostoff.... Un coup de foudre!... How afterwards they had remembered each other, looked out for each other, and been jealous of each other, until they met again and became acquainted.... And how everything had happened as it must have done. They had to tell each other that they had always waited for each other, that they had foreseen this, and now were bound to each other for all eternity. Oui, c'est pour la vie, c'est pour la vie!... And principally they had to arrange about the time and place of their meetings.

He lived alone, and by taking proper precautions Mimotchka might come to his rooms. This would be the most convenient way. He would not have proposed it to her if there had been any risk, for Mimotchka's honour and good name were above all things dear to him. And Mimotchka, having reconnoitred and assured herself that "Maman ne se doute de rien," and that she and Princess X---- and all their circle were completely taken with the hussar Anutin and his intended bride, was tranquillised, and, taking all due precautions, came to his rooms.

How she enjoyed being there! Everything that surrounded him and that he used bore the stamp of his exquisite taste. Mimotchka turned over his letter-case, his albums, and looked at the portraits of his wife and children.... His wife was a great deal too handsome, and excited her jealousy, but Valerian Nicolaevitch pacified her: "Handsome?... Yes; she is handsome, but that is not sufficient. Une femme doit plaire. That is the chief thing." His wife was not suited to him. A cold, lifeless beauty; a soulless creature, a blue-stocking, a second Lady Byron.... She was a mother, only a mother, not a woman to love. She lived for the children, and expected him to do the same. It was absurd. The children would live and enjoy life themselves some day. And meanwhile he wishes to enjoy his life. Another life will not be granted to him. He must live, live....

And he kissed Mimotchka, kissed her eyes, and said, "Let me drink of this sea!"

Mimotchka was not aware before that there was a sea in her eyes.

Having got over her jealousy, Mimotchka hid the photograph of his wife further on in the book, so that it should not meet her eyes, and went on turning over his things.

Valerian Nicolaevitch had forty neckties and forty pairs of socks, and for each necktie there were socks to match. And what a lot of _breloques,_ pins, and rings besides, which he varied, also selecting them to match the neckties. In general, he was rather a dandy, but Mimotchka liked it. She looked over and arranged the forty neckties in a rosewood box, separating one necktie from the other with a sachet of his favourite perfume, "Cherry-blossom." And she told him which neckties she liked, and which she didn't like, and which he was to wear the next day. And one necktie she called the necktie of "Love and Treachery." That was her favourite. Occasionally, chiefly on the days she received letters from Spiridon Ivanovitch, Mimotchka had a fit of the "blue devils," as she called it, and she reproached herself for her guilt towards her husband. "Je suis une femme perdue," she said. "Anyhow, I have wronged him, injured him.... And he has in nowise deserved it. And what will happen if he gets to know? He will kill me or turn me out of the house ... Enfin je suis une femme perdue. And you yourself must despise me. Yes, you despise me, Val; I see you do." ...

"What a child you are!" And he tried to convince her that there was nothing to despise her for. "On vit comme on peut. Look at the people we know; look at Marie Petrovna; look at Marie Lvovna!" ...

Mimotchka reflected and remembered. Certainly, there was both Marie Petrovna and Marie Lvovna. And Nettie, above all! But then, on the other hand, there was Anna Vassilievna, and Aunt Julia, and mamma. No, there were still some honest, good women, not like her. Otherwise, why such harsh, pitiless judgments, why so much hypocrisy in the world?... Valerian Nicolaevitch explained it all to her.

"Don't you see, people suffer and bear too much because they don't seize the moments of happiness that fall to their share."

"Oh yes, people do suffer."

And she told him all about Spiridon Ivanovitch, and how dull it was for her with him. She was rather afraid that Val would despise her for having an old husband--he had so thundered against mercenary love. But no, it did not disturb him at all. In general, since the ride to the "Castle of Love and Treachery," his feelings towards Spiridon Ivanovitch had quite changed. He did not even frown when Mimotchka mentioned his name, but, on the contrary, he endeavoured to instil into her that with such a husband she could lead a very pleasant, easy life. Only she must be wise. And he proceeded to give her some advice.

In the winter he would come to Petersburg. His wife would remain at Kieff with the children, and they would spend a beautiful winter together. Only there must be no imprudences. He praised Mimotchka because while she was here she had behaved so rightly, so quietly, and so naturally. Neither her mamma, who loved her so tenderly, nor that sharp girl, Vava, had noticed anything whatever. That was as it should be: yes, just as it should be. They loved one another, and they must set up a wall between themselves and the world. Their secret was the wall behind which they could love each other boldly and fully. They must hide their happiness like a treasure, like something precious.

"L'amourette que l'on ébruite Est un rosier déraciné."

Let people try and guess if they chose to, let them suspect what they liked, but don't let them know anything.

Mimotchka told him how she came to marry, how everybody had persuaded her to, and how she could never have made up her mind to it by herself. Valerian Nicolaevitch did not understand why. It was wise, and she had acted very rightly. Money was not the last thing in life; if it was not happiness, at any rate it was the key to happiness. Only, these last four years she had not understood how to arrange her life. She herself had made it dull. Everything depends on ourselves.

But up till now she had not cared for anyone. She had never loved before, and if she had not met him, Val, here, she would never have known the happiness of love. But now, c'est pour la vie, n'est-ce-pas?

"Oui, c'est pour la vie!"

He himself seemed to be deeply unhappy in his family life. His wife was a cold, hard pedant, who was incapable of responding to the transports of his ardent soul. She was _une femelle;_ yes, that was the word. Why had he married her?... It was a long story. Some day he would tell it to Mimotchka, afterwards, but meanwhile ... "Let me drink of this sea!" ... And he kissed her eyes.

For the first two weeks he told Mimotchka that he should certainly come to Petersburg, and they talked about the delightful evenings they would spend together at theatres and concerts. They would meet every day. But as the time of separation drew near these plans somewhat changed.

He received a business letter from Kieff. It appeared he would hardly be able to get away to Petersburg. An affair was impending, an important, complicated lawsuit, with the particulars of which he made Mimotchka acquainted. He was to defend a celebrated thief, a regular scoundrel.

"But why defend a scoundrel?" asked Mimotchka; "then you don't think him guilty?"

"I am convinced of his guilt!"

"And you would defend him _quand meme?_"

"Every man has a right to a defence. It's easy enough to acquit an innocent man. His innocence itself speaks for him. But to pardon a guilty man, to turn to him indulgently and mercifully, as a Christian should turn to his brother, whoever he is, much intelligence and much knowledge of the human heart is required. Christ did not judge, Christ justified all, and for this very reason, and to awaken in the juries' hearts that divine spark which exists in everyone of us ..."

"But surely they won't acquit him?"

"Perhaps they will."

"What, a good-for-nothing fellow like that! I would transport him with hard labour. And because of him we shan't see each other any more. How I hate him! And yet you are going to defend him." ... And Mimotchka began to cry.

"What a child you are!" said Valerian Nicolaevitch, and kissed her eyes.

"Then we shan't see each other any more?"

"What can we do?... Fate is jealous." ...

And when, three days before their departure, Mimotchka cried bitterly on his shoulder, he stroked her hair and said rather absently:

"What can we do? We must submit. We were happy.... Fate is jealous.... Voyons, du courage.... We must look the inevitable in the face.... Let us be thankful to Providence for these bright moments. You are still so young....

"You will know new feelings And choose new friends.'"

"Jamais, jamais.... How can you talk like that! Don't you care if I get to love someone else? Tu ne m'as jamais aimée!... Oh, Val, Val!"

"Enfant! voyons, ne pleurez donc pas.... What does it matter? I have had the spring flowers, someone else will have the fruits.... Don't look so terrified!... Je connais la vie, voilà tout!... You're not angry with me?... No!... Let me kiss your eyes! How I love kissing them I ... Fate willed it otherwise.... We have gathered the flowers."

And then came a verse from Heine and a verse from Fett.

"I shall not forget you; no, never, and do you remember too,

'Rappelle-toi, lorsque l'aurore craintive.'" ...

But Mimotchka only went on crying quietly and silently, shaking her head and kissing his hands, while her copious tears dropped like hail on the necktie of "Love and Treachery."

Then they exchanged turquoise rings. Mimotchka had her photograph done for him in her riding-habit, on the same horse on which she had ridden to the "Castle of Love and Treachery," and he had his done for her in his Tcherkesk costume. They had very much wished to visit the "Castle" again, but somehow something always hindered their doing so....

Meanwhile mamma was already packing up and scolding Katia, who seemed bereft of her senses, forgetting orders, letting things drop out of her hands, and packing heavy garments on the top of light ones.

Vava tied up the copybooks containing her impressions of her travels and her projects of a home for destitute children, and wrote down the addresses of her Caucasian friends.

And Katia, on her knees before the open trunk, spread tissue paper over Mimotchka's plush jacket, and from time to time big tears dropped on the jacket and on the linen laid over it. Oh, those Caucasian turquoises!...

Early in the morning a travelling carriage stood at the door of Baranoffsky's apartments. Vava shook hands warmly with her friends, who had come to say good-bye to her. She had very much improved during the summer, had got sunburnt, stouter, and stronger. She had spent a lovely summer here, and how sorry she was to part from those blue mountains, from those walks and little paths in the wood, and from her good friends! Ah, how sorry, how sorry! And Vava, forgetting all about her mother's strictness and home regulations, and her previous unsuccessful attempts to introduce her friends, invited them all--yes, all--to come and see her--please--be sure to--as soon as any one of them came to Petersburg! She would be so happy!... "Don't forget, No. 5 Millionnaia, apartment 2.... Please do be sure to come!"

Mimotchka came out in a travelling hat, in a waterproof, with a travelling bag on her arm, and muffled up in a thick gauze veil. She was calm and composed. She had cried away all her tears the day before.

Valerian Nicolaevitch was kind enough to offer to accompany them on horseback as far as Essentouki. He was in his Tcherkesk costume, leaning picturesquely on his saddle, and humming a song of Kapri's, "I remember the blissful meetings." ...

Katia ran out with bandboxes in her hands, weeping and panting.... Mamma stared at her in amazement. Everything was put in, everything was in its place. The ladies took their seats and the carriage drove off from Kislovodsk.

They said good-bye at Essentouki. Valerian Nicolaevitch kissed mamma's hand, and she expressed the hope that he would come and see them in Petersburg. Vava also invited him to come and see her. She was so sorry that everything Caucasian was leaving her. Mimotchka was silent, but gazed at him mournfully.

And the carriage drove on further in the direction of the station.

It was a grey, dull-looking morning, and a thick, fine rain beat against the windows when the ladies woke up as they neared Petersburg.

Rain, rain, rain.... A melancholy grey sky.... The villas round Petersburg with their fir-tree plantations; the muddy, swampy roads with the ditches at the edge and the thickly-grown bracken pass before them ..., Moss, bilberry bushes, marsh and fog....

Here are the well-known market-gardens with the cabbages, and the barracks, and the platform of the Petersburg railway station; the rain has stopped and the sun is shining on the wet platform.

There is Spiridon Ivanovitch's orderly and there is Aunt Julia's footman.

And here stands Spiridon Ivanovitch himself, resplendent, like a peony, in his crimson-lined overcoat.... Mamma joyfully taps on the window-pane to him. He has seen them, seen them and recognised them!

Mimotchka's heart sinks. How old he looks, and what a stranger he seems to her, what a stranger!... She wishes the train would not stop, but would go on further and further and carry her away past.... But the train slackens speed, it stops. They must get out.

Here's Mdme. Lambert with Zina, and, oh my goodness, here's baby with his nurse! He has come to meet his mamma! How he has grown, how he has improved, and how sunburnt he has got, dear little mite! And just look, he isn't a bit shy; he smiles, he says, "how-do-you-do" to them all, stretches out his lips to be kissed by his mother and grandmother and Vava.... And he salutes, yes, he has learnt how to make a military salute, putting up his little hand to his head and saying, "I wish you good health!" Oh, what a darling!

And grandmamma smothers baby with kisses, and tears of pride and tenderness rise to her eyes, when baby, drawing himself up straight in front of her, says to her, "I wish you good health, your excellency!" And Spiridon Ivanovitch enfolds Mimotchka in his ample embrace.

A week after their arrival they were all assembled at Aunt Julia's. She was in a state of great jubiliation. Her son Vova was engaged, and his _fiancée_ was in every way most suitable. She was both wealthy and well connected.... The engagement was not yet formally announced, but the affair was quite settled. The _fiancée_ was not pretty and she was no longer very young, but she was over head and ears in love with Vova. Aunt Julia liked her very much, and in speaking to her sisters of the young lady she said: "Elle n'est pas futile."

Aunt Julia thanked mamma very warmly for her care of Vava. Not to speak of Vava's having much improved physically, she had also morally changed, for the better; she was more self-controlled, gentler, and more obedient. And so she was given a separate room all to herself, where she could sleep, write, and study without Mdme. Lambert.

"Well, so altogether you had a pleasant trip?" says Aunt Julia in conclusion.

"Delightful, delightful. I am so glad Variashski sent us there."

"But how much prettier Mimotchka has grown! Why, she is simply unrecognisable."

"It's striking!" says Aunt Mary. "Next summer I shall go to Kislovodsk to get young and beautiful again."

Mimotchka smiles modestly and composedly.

"And that Netty!" says Aunt Sophy. "Haven't you heard what a scandal there was?"

"No, what is it? Zina wrote something or other about it, but we could not make out what she meant."

"She is separated from her husband, and has now disappeared from Petersburg and gone off to Paris, where she changes her lovers as often as her gloves. It's awful! She always did behave like a fool. Just before her husband had to go to sea her conscience began to get uneasy. If it had only kept quiet until he came back! No, she goes to confession and tells everything to the priest, this and that, and says she has committed a sin against her husband. The priest directly says: 'And does your husband know of it? 'No,' she says. 'Well then, don't tell him of it.' And he explained to her why she was to keep silence, that as she had sinned, she must suffer, but that he must not suffer for it."

"They always say that," puts in Aunt Mary thoughtlessly, and meeting Aunt Julia's inquiring gaze, she adds, "I have heard of many such cases where the priests said that."

"Well she comes straight home from confession and says to her husband, 'I went to the priest and told him all about my sin.' 'What sin?' And there it was. What!... Scenes and explanations. He wants to shoot himself and she wants to shoot herself. He wants to kill her, to kill the other man, to kill himself. _... A la fin des fins_ he goes to sea, and she, after throwing all the children on the old Poltavsteffs' hands, goes off to her beloved and sets about getting a divorce. After two months the other man cannot stand her any longer and runs away from her. She takes poison, the doctors save her life, and then she goes off to Paris. She has been there now already three weeks, and there are very very ugly rumours about her." ...

"Oh, how sorry I am far the old Poltavsteffs!" says mamma: "how dreadful it is for them!"

"I said a long time ago that she was in a dangerous way," says Aunt Julia.

Mimotchka nods her head affirmatively.

"Well, _à propos_ of love affairs," says Aunt Sophy, "is it true that in the Caucasus, at the springs, there is so much flirting going on?"

"Ah, don't mention it!" answers mamma, smiling. "What things we saw and what things we heard! And Variashski, too, just imagine!" ...

"And wasn't there anyone after Mimi? Est-ce qu'il y a eu quelqu'un pour te faire la cour?... Et personne ne t'a donné dans l'œil?" ...

"Quelle idée, ma tante!... Why, there was no one there. At least, there were many sympathetic, agreeable people, but nobody of that sort." ...

And Mimotchka, smiling her old Petersburg smile, shakes her head in denial.

"And is nature really so beautiful there?" asks Aunt Julia; "Vava goes into ecstasies about the mountains."

"But they didn't see anything," said Spiridon Ivanovitch regretfully. "How was it you never went to Bermamout? Why, I wrote and told you to go. To be at Kislovodsk and not go to Bermamout! Oh, you!... you were among the real mountains and never went to see them."

"But there was no one to go with," said Mimotchka, defending herself. "The X---- 's had left before our arrival, and somehow we three never managed it alone. I really did so try to go and see everything."

"Yes, it must be very lovely there," says Aunt Mary, looking through the stereoscope at some views of the Caucasus that Vava had brought back. "How beautiful this is! What is it?"

"This?" says Mimotchka, bending over Aunt Mary to look through the stereoscope. "This is the 'Castle of Love and Treachery.' They are rocks that look like a castle, and that is what they are called."

"And is it really as beautiful? Did you go there?"

"Yes, I went there on horseback.... It's very beautiful, especially by moon-light--c'est féerique."

End of Project Gutenberg's Mimi's Marriage, by Lidia Ivanovna Veselitskaya