and after him crowded Varia, Rogojin and all, even the general.
“It’s nothing, it’s nothing!” said the prince, and again he wore the smile which was so inconsistent with the circumstances.
“Yes, he will be ashamed!” cried Rogojin. “You will be properly ashamed of yourself for having injured such a — such a sheep” (he could not find a better word). “Prince, my dear fellow, leave this and come away with me. I’ll show you how Rogojin shows his affection for his friends.”
Nastasia Philipovna was also much impressed, both with Gania’s action and with the prince’s reply.
Her usually thoughtful, pale face, which all this while had been so little in harmony with the jests and laughter which she had seemed to put on for the occasion, was now evidently agitated by new feelings, though she tried to conceal the fact and to look as though she were as ready as ever for jesting and irony.
“I really think I must have seen him somewhere!” she murmured seriously enough.
“Oh, aren’t you ashamed of yourself — aren’t you ashamed? Are you really the sort of woman you are trying to represent yourself to be? Is it possible?” The prince was now addressing Nastasia, in a tone of reproach, which evidently came from his very heart.
Nastasia Philipovna looked surprised, and smiled, but evidently concealed something beneath her smile and with some confusion and a glance at Gania she left the room.
However, she had not reached the outer hall when she turned round, walked quickly up to Nina Alexandrovna, seized her hand and lifted it to her lips.
“He guessed quite right. I am not that sort of woman,” she whispered hurriedly, flushing red all over. Then she turned again and left the room so quickly that no one could imagine what she had come back for. All they saw was that she said something to Nina Alexandrovna in a hurried whisper, and seemed to kiss her hand. Varia, however, both saw and heard all, and watched Nastasia out of the room with an expression of wonder.
Gania recollected himself in time to rush after her in order to show her out, but she had gone. He followed her to the stairs.
“Don’t come with me,” she cried, “Au revoir, till the evening — do you hear? Au revoir!”
He returned thoughtful and confused; the riddle lay heavier than ever on his soul. He was troubled about the prince, too, and so bewildered that he did not even observe Rogojin’s rowdy band crowd past him and step on his toes, at the door as they went out. They were all talking at once. Rogojin went ahead of the others, talking to Ptitsin, and apparently insisting vehemently upon something very important
“You’ve lost the game, Gania” he cried, as he passed the latter.
Gania gazed after him uneasily, but said nothing.
Chapter XI.
THE prince now left the room and shut himself up in his own chamber. Colia followed him almost at once, anxious to do what he could to console him. The poor boy seemed to be already so attached to him that he could hardly leave him.
“You were quite right to go away!” he said. “The row will rage there worse than ever now; and it’s like this every day with us — and all through that Nastasia Philipovna.”
“You have so many sources of trouble here, Colia,” said the prince.
“Yes, indeed, and it is all our own fault. But I have a great friend who is much worse off even than we are. Would you like to know him?”
“Yes, very much. Is he one of your school-fellows?”
“Well, not exactly. I will tell you all about him some day. . . . What do you think of Nastasia Philipovna? She is beautiful, isn’t she? I had never seen her before, though I had a great wish to do so. She fascinated me. I could forgive Gania if he were to marry her for love, but for money! Oh dear! that is horrible!”
“Yes, your brother does not attract me much.”
“I am not surprised at that. After what you . . . But I do hate that way of looking at things! Because some fool, or a rogue pretending to be a fool, strikes a man, that man is to be dishonoured for his whole life, unless he wipes out the disgrace with blood, or makes his assailant beg forgiveness on his knees! I think that so very absurd and tyrannical. Lermontoff’s Bal Masque is based on that idea — a stupid and unnatural one, in my opinion; but he was hardly more than a child when he wrote it.”
“I like your sister very much.”
“Did you see how she spat in Gania’s face! Varia is afraid of no one. But you did not follow her example, and yet I am sure it was not through cowardice. Here she comes! Speak of a wolf and you see his tail! I felt sure that she would come. She is very generous, though of course she has her faults.”
Varia pounced upon her brother.
“This is not the place for you,” said she. “Go to father. Is he plaguing you, prince?”
“Not in the least; on the contrary, he interests me.”
“Scolding as usual, Varia! It is the worst thing about her. After all, I believe father may have started off with Rogojin. No doubt he is sorry now. Perhaps I had better go and see what he is doing,” added Colia, running off.
“Thank God, I have got mother away, and put her to bed without another scene! Gania is worried — and ashamed — not without reason! What a spectacle! I have come to thank you once more, prince, and to ask you if you knew Nastasia Philipovna before
“No, I have never known her.”
“Then what did you mean, when you said straight out to her that she was not really ‘like that’? You guessed right, I fancy. It is quite possible she was not herself at the moment, though I cannot fathom her meaning. Evidently she meant to hurt and insult us. I have heard curious tales about her before now, but if she came to invite us to her house, why did she behave so to my mother? Ptitsin knows her very well; he says he could not understand her today. With Rogojin, too! No one with a spark of self-respect could have talked like that in the house of her . . . Mother is extremely vexed on your account, too . . .
“That is nothing!” said the prince, waving his hand.
“But how meek she was when you spoke to her!”
“Meek! What do you mean?”
“You told her it was a shame for her to behave so, and her manner changed at once; she was like another person. You have some influence over her, prince,” added Varia, smiling a little.
The door opened at this point, and in came Gania most unexpectedly.
He was not in the least disconcerted to see Varia there, but he stood a moment at the door, and then approached the prince quietly.
“Prince,” he said, with feeling, “I was a blackguard. Forgive me!” His face gave evidence of suffering. The prince was considerably amazed, and did not reply at once. “Oh, come, forgive me, forgive me!” Gania
