Part 7

Vava, in the meantime, was in the seventh heaven. She went out alone. Mamma had not actually given her permission, but she winked at it. In the morning Vava went with Mimotchka to the music, but as soon as Doctor Variashski, or one of the officers of Spiridon Ivanovitch's division came up, Vava fled, and in a few minutes she was somewhere in the forest, in the thickly wooded paths or high up among the rocks, over which she clambered like a goat. She had her favourite corners for every hour of the day. She knew from where there was the best view of the sunset, where it was coolest at midday, and where it was warmest in the early morning.... Vava was not afraid of snakes, nor of the great tarantula spiders; she pushed her way through the heart of the forest, through the thick, high grass and nettles of the steppe, and came home with her shoes torn to pieces, her face and hands covered with scratches, burrs and grass sticking to her hair, and earwigs and caterpillars on her clothes and on her dress.... Katia, by mamma's order, had to dress her afresh and put her to rights, and Vava said laughingly that she only thoroughly enjoyed those walks which bore witness of her communion with nature. The mornings Vava generally spent up in the mountains. There, before you came to the top, was a little plateau, overgrown with wild hollyhocks and filbert bushes, where Vava lay among the grass or sat on a stone and gazed at Mount Beshtau, at the blue valleys, and at little Jeleznovodsk nestling under the mountains, with its clean white houses, and the gold cross shining on its church, and from where you could even hear the cocks crowing and the dogs barking.... And on the left, from the tufts of green trees, came the sounds of the orchestra playing the waltz "Bygone Days." There they were going round, those invalids that Vava knew so well, strolling about and meeting and greeting and looking at each other. Vava looked around her and thought that here also there was bustle and music. A chorus of crickets chirped the waltzes; the ants worked on busily and anxiously just like the doctors with their prey or without it.... And the lady-birds, beetles, caterpillars, butterflies and bees were the public. Vava thought it much nicer to be at this music than at the music below. Here she could lie on the grass and she was so happy, so happy! The sun warmed her chilly body, and in her soul there was such peace and joy as she had never known at home. Here she was with God I And she experienced a full sense of blessedness without anything to mar it. From afar she even loved her mother. When she thought of her she pictured her in the most sympathetic colours.... Active, judicious, careful, although severe.... And Vava dreamt of a time when they would understand each other better and become friends, and Vava would show that there really was some good in her ...? Her brother would marry and leave his family, her sister would also marry, although Zina always said that she Would only marry a man with a title.... Still somebody with a title might perhaps be found ... And Vava would remain at home alone with her father and mother.... Then most likely life would be easier for her and everything would come right. And meanwhile she is quite content to be here. She does not feel either lonely or unhappy. The sun's caresses warm her, the wood is full of sounds of life, the bees hum on "the white acacia, bending beneath the weight of its flowers.... The butterflies circle in the air.... And Vava is so happy, that she feels with all her soul that there is no creature on God's earth entirely forsaken, forgotten, and miserable.... And, lying on the grass, she looks at the heavens, while over her head a great eagle soars calmly up, as if carrying on his broad wings her dreams, her hopes, and her faith in her God.

Although mamma winked at these solitary walks of Vava's, in reality they very much troubled her. Even putting aside snakes and mad dogs, there was no knowing where she might lose herself or who she might meet.... In the mountains musicians roamed about and beggars as well.... So that mamma was partly glad when Vava made some friends and acquaintances for herself. And although these acquaintances were not such as she would have chosen for herself or Mimotchka, anyhow it Was better than Vava's being alone. First of all, at the gymnastics, Vava made acquaintance with some children, then with their nurses, governesses, and relations, and before three weeks had elapsed she was united in bonds of the tenderest friendship with a young girl who had just finished her studies as pupil in the institution,[12] with a youth, the brother of the young girl, with a governess, with a little Moscow doctor and his wife, and with a student, the tutor of the actress Morozoffs ten-year-old boy.

[12] Government establishments for the education of young girls, daughters of gentlemen.

They formed a little circle of their own, walked together, made excursions in the mountains and environs, lent each other books, talked and argued.... Vava was in ecstasies over her new acquaintances. Of course they were not quite Washingtons, but still they were thoroughly nice, good people, and how different from her Petersburg acquaintances! They did not ridicule anyone, were not proud of anything, they were severe to themselves and indulgent to others, they did not talk scandal, but occupied themselves with their own affairs.... They not only thought as she did about everything, but they had ideas and views of their own besides, which were new to her and awoke a host of fresh thoughts in her. This overjoyed her. Now she heard and read about all kinds of things--and there was somebody for her to share her impressions with too.

They were delightful people, and ever so much better than she was.... She was particularly fond of the governess: she was so intelligent, so patient and just.... Vava was not worth her little finger.

Of her home and mother Vava never spoke to her new acquaintances. She would have thought it mean to complain or to try and interest them in her troubles. But, judging from their general opinions and other examples, she saw that from their point of view she was right in not liking the kind of life her family led and in wishing for something different. But for the present she must submit and wait, and afterwards she would be able to arrange her life as she wanted to.

And, thinking of how, some day in the future, she would arrange her life, Vava was particularly fascinated by one idea. She had found her mission, imagined a work after her own heart, found an object in life that was really worthy, interesting, and absorbing.

She could never live as Zina lived. If she had possessed some talent she would have lived for that, but she had no talents whatever, so this is what she would do. As soon as she was twenty-five, and everyone could see that she was going to be an old maid, then she would ask to be given her own money. And with this money she would open a home for children who had been forsaken by their parents. And she would take into her home all the poor, forsaken, lost, destitute children.... She would take care of them and she would have many, many children, first a hundred, then two hundred, and so on, more and more. And she herself would bathe and dry them, and dress them, and put them to bed, and teach them to walk and talk, read and think, love and forgive....

In her imagination Vava already saw her rooms, full of children's cots of dazzling whiteness, and in them the children, pretty, little, tender, helpless children.... They went to sleep, they awoke and smiled, and screamed, and cried, and called her "Mamma!" And she loved them all, every one of them.... Some were healthy, handsome, and lively, and she was justly proud of them; others, poor, weakly, and crippled, and she was tender and pitiful to them.... And she loved all of them, yes, all.... Then they grew up and their characters developed. They helped her to educate the little ones as they came in. They laboured and studied and developed.... And now they became the Gracchi and the William Tells that she had been looking for.... And they entered upon life's work while she, old and grey, followed after them ready to bless or console....

If only she could soon be twenty-five! She would reach that age some day. Mimotchka had already reached it. And meanwhile she must study and prepare herself, and above all, correct herself and attain a proper equilibrium of mind. With her character it would be difficult. But what of that? She would strive hard with herself. And then the work itself would give her strength. She would have helpers too. She would take into her home young girls, portionless, good young girls, and make them so happy that they would not feel their position irksome. Then she would take old women, like those that go into almshouses, old and poor. They could be the nurses. She did not want any Swedish gymnastics or English _bonnes;_ everything would be on the simplest footing, without any pretensions or nonsense. And then, and then....

And her castles in the air so inspirited Vava that she got stronger every day, and wrote her mother the most affectionate and respectful letters, and was so attentive to her aunt that the good lady became really attached to her, and often said, "Décidément Julie est une personne de beaucoup d'esprit, mais elle manque de cœur."

At first Doctor Variashski had paid Mimotchka a great deal of attention. He walked with her, sat by her at the music, rode on horseback with her, and came to tea with them several times, but he soon got tired of it. Mamma wearied him with her perpetual chatter, besides which Mimotchka herself was so unamusing and difficult to get on with.

She, on her side, was quite disillusioned with the doctor, whom she had liked so much at first. Mimotchka was spoilt and pampered, and accustomed to everything being done for her happiness and pleasure, while the doctor was dreadfully selfish and only thought of himself. For instance, he rode on horseback with her, and trotted the whole time (because it was good for his health). And what a state she was in, poor thing! And once, too, when she had only just drank her koumiss, her habit bodice felt so tight, and she endured such dreadful torments that she even cried when she got home. And mamma, while rubbing her side and counting out fifteen drops of valerian for her to take, thought, "What pigs those men are" (mamma sometimes used rather vulgar expressions to herself). "They go galloping on for their own pleasure, and never remember that the poor thing isn't strong. And he a doctor, too!"

But what made mamma more indignant then anything with Doctor Variashski, was that she heard he was completely captivated by the charms of his neighbour and patient, Mdme. Tchereshneff. Mdme. Tchereshneff was a widow of thirty-four, who had come to the springs with her son, a boy of six, and his nurse. She occupied rooms next door to Variashski, and their balconies touched. She wore pretty toilettes, and in general was interesting and elegant-looking. All this mamma learnt from Mdlle. Kossovitch.

Soon she was able to assure herself with her own eyes of the truth of this information. Variashski walked with Mdme. Tchereshneff, he rode with her and went out shooting eagles with her (yes, she went out shooting--that showed what sort of woman she was!), he went to tea with her, played with her boy, in fact, they were hardly ever apart. This made our ladies very, very much cooler towards Variashski. Of course mamma did not in the least wish him to compromise her daughter in the way he was compromising Mdme. Tchereshneff. But then he would never dare to. Mimotchka and Mdme. Tchereshneff were two quite different people. Mimotchka might have admirers, but she must not be talked about. And then to allow a doctor to pay you attention too, a man to whom you would give ten roubles for a visit, and who you could dismiss like a hairdresser. Mamma was really surprised at Mdme. Tchereshneff!... If only Mimotchka had liked, of course, she could have found something better.... Yes, if only she had wished it, the whole division would have been at her feet.... And princes besides! But, a doctor.... A man whom you paid for his visits!... And mamma had thought him such a serious, respectable man!... Certainly he was no longer very young. And to spend whole days at Mdme. Tchereshneff's; _à son âge!_ ... It was evidently true what Doctor Shavronski said about Variashski's going out in a fez and with a pipe in his mouth, followed by a train of eight ladies, who were all in love with him.... What things one does hear and see!... And Doctor Variashski's proceedings so cooled mamma's and Mimotchka's feelings towards him that it was positively decided to pay him a hundred roubles and not a hundred and fifty. Mamma had even ceased believing in him as if he were the Almighty.

Kislovodsk was preparing for the season. The prices in the hotels had already gone up in expectation of the invalids who were making cures in other places and had to come on here to finish off, and for a rest after the strictness of the _régime._

"Kislovodsk," says Lermontoff, "is the scene of the _dénouement_ of all the love stories begun at the foot of Beshtau, Mashouka, and Jeleznaia."

Here, in general, accounts are wound up, intrigues unravelled, and deceptions unmasked; doctors count over their fees, and the invalids prove their newly acquired health; in a word, here, in the Narzan-laden atmosphere, the grand finale of the watering season is played out.

Kislovodsk was preparing for the season. And meanwhile, in the other stations, all kinds of love affairs were beginning and developing, and would be wound up at Kislovodsk. Widows suffering from _ennui,_ wives separated from their husbands, dissatisfied wives, giddy, volatile, sentimental old maids, and would-be brides--all these swarmed and crowded at the Jeleznovodsk springs, and, having drawn from them fresh health and courage, threw out lines and nets right and left. And fishes, both large and small, nibbled and were entangled in them.

And so the day came when Doctor Ivanoff's first three patients migrated from Jeleznovodsk to Kislovodsk, and Doctor Grazianski's seven patients moved over from Piatigorsk to Jeleznovodsk, where the season was at its full height. The invalids had got better, they had made acquaintance with each other, and were well amused as they let themselves be drawn into the usual idle, though frivolously busy, watering-place life. The evenings got darker, the stars brighter, and the storms more frequent.

Mimotchka was not dull. She had got even prettier, and was looking blooming. She hadn't any flirtation going on, oh no! Did her heart beat too calmly, or was all around her unworthy of passion? Neither one nor the other. Simply she was too well brought up for any deviation from the path of duty. And although all around her, under her very eyes, couples met, smiled, and flirted, although she was surrounded by an atmosphere of love-making, Mimotchka was perfectly cool and calm. What were all these bakers' and farmers' wives to her? What did she care about all these people that swarmed and crawled on the grass under the sun's rays like beetles and grasshoppers? They might live as they liked, she would live as she "ought." And, proud in the knowledge of her irreproachableness and inaccessibility, Mimotchka, young, fresh, and pretty, tripped lightly and gracefully through the green alleys, without paying the slightest attention either to the approving and admiring glances directed at her, or to the meetings with _him,_ with

_l'homme au chien_ (although he had grown ever so much handsomer!).

No, Mimotchka had not the least shade of a flirtation, and, together with mamma, made fun of their neighbour on the adjoining balcony, a young widow from Smolensk, who, although she was still wearing mourning, said to her acquaintances, "Yes, I am not against a flirtation, only I don't want to take the initiative." And when, soon after, a young officer of the line[13] took to visiting her, mamma called him "the officer with the initiative." And what a nuisance he was to them! He spat and coughed and smoked cigarette after cigarette, and the worst possible cigarettes too, while the widow, in a languishing voice, sang about

"The night, and love, and the moon."

[13] Officers of the line rank lower in social position than officers of the guards.

Mamma used to listen to their conversations; the balconies were only divided by a canvas partition.

"Haven't you anything to read to me?" asked the widow; "it's so dull. Lend me some book, only not a love story, please.... Are there any such books?"

"Of course there are. Have you read any of Gleb Ouspensky's[14] books?"

"Gleb? No. Are they good?"

"Well, you must read them. I'll bring them to you."

"Bring them; yes, do bring them."

And they read Gleb Ouspensky together, afterwards they read Schopenhauer. And mamma, sitting with her work on her own balcony, laughed to herself, thinking, "Read on, read on; evidently, tout chemin mène à Rome."

[14] A realistic author, who chiefly wrote sketches of peasant life.

When the officer was tired of reading he put the book down on the table and lit a cigarette.

"How true, how true it all is!" said the widow, gazing pensively towards Beshtau. "I look on life just as Schopenhauer does. There is nothing that can bear being analysed without being dispersed like smoke. Truly, life is not worth living."

"Yes, certainly life is a pretty considerable muddle. But still, for all that, why not try and live without analysing and reflecting about everything?"

"No, once you know that life is worthless, it's not worth while living."

"No, it's worth trying just for the sake of being convinced."

"But if you know beforehand it's not worth while?"

"But why isn't it worth while? Why, Schopenhauer himself went through it all before writing about it."

"But then, what sort of a life did he live? Well, yes, he found out that everything is falsehood, fancy, and vanity, that we deceive ourselves. And we all come to the same conclusion. Is it worth while wasting strength to come to a result already known, even though it be only known from books?"

"Well, you take a very high-flown view. I look on things much more simply."

"Why are we wasting the time in talking? Go oh reading, go on!" ...

Of course this was all very ridiculous, and Mimotchka would never have allowed herself to be as silly as the widow. Peuh! She felt so happy and bright, and yet without any love-making whatever. An officer of her husband's division rode with her and introduced his friends to her. They all admired and liked her. She could easily have got to know _l'homme au chien._ But she herself did not wish to. After all, what was the good of it? Mimotchka, like Vava, chiefly delighted in the feeling of her freedom, and in the absence of all restraint and guardianship. Here mamma did not bother her, and did not accompany her on her walks. She would have liked to have done so, but the burning Caucasian sun prevented her. Mamma could not stand heat. In the morning, after seeing the young people off, and, like Providence, arranging everything for their comfort, mamma, when they had gone, closed the shutters, pulled down the blinds, and, having made it dark and cool, lay down on her bed with a book. In thought she was, of course, with her poor, sick children, who were broiling in the sun. She felt quite comfortable about Mimotchka, but Vava gave her considerable uneasiness. Vava was like fire, so impulsive, so impressionable (those slim girls were always so _passionnées,_) and here, besides, there was something in the very air of the place, the burning sun.... And yet Vava was so bright, so nice, so much improved in her looks, and so contented with everything.... Supposing there was some secret reason for all this.

And mamma got frightened, very much frightened. And in the stillness of the night, more than once, the images of the student and the military cadet flew over her pillowed head like two demons come to trouble her sleep and disturb her rest. After much consideration and preparation mamma tried to caution Vava. Vava only answered her warnings with a look, but such a look that mamma's soul sunk into her shoes, and she inwardly determined never again to revert to the subject. In order to quiet her conscience, however, and relieve herself of all responsibility towards Julia, she called the maid Katia, and ordered her to look strictly after her young lady and let her know with whom she walked, where she went, and whether she was ever alone with anyone.

And Katia, after having ironed Mimotchka's petticoats and laid out everything that would be required for the evening, went out into the park, with the firm intention of looking after her young lady. But as her young lady was very much on the move, and running after her was very tiring, Katia wisely sat down on a bench under the shade of a spreading tree, which Vava must certainly pass on her way home to dinner, and sat there watching the people going by.

Opposite the bench, on a little eminence, stood some hawkers with glass cases, an Italian selling corals and mosaics, and some Armenians with Caucasian wares. Among them was a small Armenian with cunning little eyes, an enormous nose, and a high black cap. And standing by his glass case, in which were displayed Caucasian turquoises and oxidised silver things, belts, daggers, brooches, and pins, all bearing the inscription, "Kavkas, Kavkas, Kavkas," he looked at Katia so knowingly and so expressively, just as if he knew how she was deceiving her mistress.

Three days running Katia sat on the same bench, and the Armenian walked round his wares and shot killing glances at her, while his eyes seemed to grow still narrower and his nose still bigger. But Katia pretended not to notice anything, and drew figures on the gravel with her parasol. Then he spoke to her. She was passing him and looking across at Beshtau, when he said, "How hot it is! Why do you go out walking at this time? It's not pleasant walking now. The evening is the time for going out. It's not hot in the evening; it's nice then." Katia still pretended not to hear, and went up in the direction of the mountain, coquettishly swinging her parasol. Then he began to bow to her. Then Katia bowed in return, at first gravely, and afterwards with a smile. Finally, he tried to persuade her to buy something.

"Your prices are too high," said Katia; "they're not for my pocket."

"But you must know them first, and then say.... I'll not ask too high.... You look at the things and ask the prices."

So Katia began examining and choosing the things in his glass case. In a week's time she already knew all the things in his show-case by heart; she knew his name, how old he was, that he had a cousin in Petersburg in a Caucasian wine-shop, and that he himself would also come to Petersburg; she also heard all about Tiflis and Kislovodsk, heard that it was a great deal pleasanter in the park in the evening than in the daytime, and that it was so dark, so very dark! Katia learnt all this, but as yet _she_ did not choose anything out of his glass case, but postponed doing so until she got to Kislovodsk.

Meanwhile Vava, who had aroused such black suspicions in mamma's mind, sat quietly at the gymnasium with her friend the governess, and, unable to contain herself any longer, unfolded to her her project of a home for destitute children. The governess sympathised with her idea, but did not quite believe in the possibility of its realisation, and, shaking her head, smiled incredulously.

"It's all very nice," she said, when Vava had finished, "but it will never come to anything. You will marry and bring up your own children, which will be a great deal better."