Cher enfant, you dont mind my addressing you so familiarly, do you? broke from him suddenly.
Not in the least. I must confess that at the very first I was rather offended by it and felt inclined to address you in the same way, but I saw it was stupid because you didnt speak like that to humiliate me.
But he had forgotten his question and was no longer listening.
Well, hows your FATHER? he said, suddenly raising his eyes and looking dreamily at me.
I winced. In the first place he called Versilov my FATHER, which he had never permitted himself to do before, and secondly, he began of himself to speak of Versilov, which he had never done before.
He sits at home without a penny and is very gloomy, I answered briefly, though I was burning with curiosity.
Yes, about money. His lawsuit is being decided to-day, and Im expecting Prince Sergay as soon as he arrives. He promised to come straight from the court to me. Their whole future turns on it. Its a question of sixty or seventy thousand. Of course, Ive always wished well to Andrey Petrovitch (Versilovs name), and I believe hell win the suit, and Prince Sergay has no case. Its a point of law.
The case will be decided to-day? I cried, amazed. The thought that Versilov had not deigned to tell me even that was a great shook to me. Then he hasnt told my mother, perhaps not anyone, it suddenly struck me. What strength of will!
Then is Prince Sokolsky in Petersburg? was another idea that occurred to me immediately.
He arrived yesterday. He has come straight from Berlin expressly for this day.
That too was
an extremely important piece of news for me. And he would be here to-day, that man who had given HIM a slap in the face!
Well, what then? The old princes face suddenly changed again. Hell preach religion as before and . . . and . . . maybe run after little girls, unfledged girls, again. He-he! Theres a very funny little story about that going about even now. . . . He-he!
Who will preach? Who will run after little girls?
Andrey Petrovitch! Would you believe it, he used to pester us all in those days. Where are we going? he would say. What are we thinking about? That was about it, anyway. He frightened and chastened us. If youre religious, hed say, why dont you become a monk? That was about what he expected. Mais quelle idée! If its right, isnt it too severe? He was particularly fond of frightening me with the Day of Judgment me of all people!
Ive noticed nothing of all this, and Ive been living with him a month, I answered, listening with impatience. I felt fearfully vexed that he hadnt pulled himself together and was rambling on so incoherently.
Its only that he doesnt talk about that now, but, believe me, it was so. Hes a clever man, and undoubtedly very learned; but is his intellect quite sound? All this happened to him after his three years abroad. And I must own he shocked me very much and shocked every one. Cher enfant, jaime le bon Dieu. . . . I believe, I believe as much as I can, but I really was angry at the time. Supposing I did put on a frivolous manner, I did it on purpose because I was annoyed and besides, the basis of my objection was as serious as it has been from the beginning of the world. If there is a higher Being, I said, and He has a PERSONAL existence, and isnt some sort of diffused spirit for creation, some sort of fluid (for thats even more difficult to understand), where does He live? Cetait bête, no doubt, my dear boy, but, you know, all the arguments come to that. Un domicile is an important thing. He was awfully angry. He had become a Catholic out there.
Ive heard that too. But it was probably nonsense.
I assure you by everything thats sacred. Youve only to look at him. . . . But you say hes changed. But in those days how he used to worry us all! Would you believe it, he used to behave as though he were a saint and his relics were being displayed. He called us to account for our behaviour, I declare he did! Relics! En voilà un autre! Its all very well for a monk or a hermit, but here was a man going about in a dress-coat and all the rest of it, and then he sets up as a saint! A strange inclination in a man in good society, and a curious taste, I admit. I say nothing about that; no doubt all thats sacred, and anything may happen. . . . Besides, this is all linconnu, but its positively unseemly for a man in good society. If anything happened to me and the offer were made me I swear I should refuse it. I go and dine to-day at the club and then suddenly make a miraculous appearance as a saint! Why, I should be ridiculous. I put all that to him at the time. . . . He used to wear chains.
I turned red with anger.
Did you see the chains yourself?
I didnt see them myself but . . .
Then let me tell you that all that is false, a tissue of loathsome fabrications, the calumny of enemies, that is, of one chief and inhuman enemy for he has only one enemy your daughter!
The old prince flared up in his turn.
Mon cher, I beg and insist that from this time forth you never couple with that revolting story the name of my daughter.