The Party and other stories

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and appetizing. Wine was not served on the lower story, but they made up for it with a great number of spirits and home-made liqueurs. Agafyushka, the fat, white-skinned, well-fed cook, was standing with her arms crossed in the doorway and talking to the old women, and the dishe

vna ran into the dining-room and sat down b

re dead and that the old women had no authority in the house, and any one could do as he liked without any fear of being sharply called to

wel! The people, the people that have come today to look at our queen. Lord have mercy upon us! Generals,

tie; she looked sadly at her niece and added: "T

arily nice. Then the downstairs Masha brought in the turkey, the pickled apples and the gooseberries. And that pleased her, too. There was only one thing that was disagreeable: there was a draught of

no need to stand there!

would not have even the beautiful and wealthy. Auntie began to set this down to immorality, and said that people had no fear of God, but she suddenly remembered that Ivan Ivanitch, her brother, and Varvarushka - both people of holy life - had feared God, but all the same had had children on the sly, and had sent them to the Foundling Asylum. She pulled herself up and changed the conversation, telling them about a suitor she had once had, a factory hand, and how she had loved h

d, that he loved her warmly and was missing her; and the thought of such closeness, ecstatic and inexpressible in words, troubled her soul. And the instinct of youth and health flattered her with lying assurances that the real poetry of life was not over

dress with a white kerchief, with keen eyes, sharp nose, and a sharp chin; she had sly, viperish eyes and she looked as though she could see right

in a high voice "Thy Holy Birth," then she sang "The Virgin today gives birth to the Son

to you, my kind friends." She kissed Auntie on the shoulder. "I should have come to you this morning, but I went in to so

from under her eyelids at the company, and drank three glasses of vodka. Wh

izing smile on his face, among the crowd of peasant men and women. The first to be king was Stinging Beetle, and Anna Akimovna as the soldier paid her tribute; and then Auntie was king and Anna Akimovna was peasant, which excited general delight, and Agafyushka

fficult it was to get a good husband nowadays, and which

d Stinging Beetle to Anna Akimovna. "But I can'

done if nobody

." She heaved a sigh and played the king. "Oh, no, my girl, they are not all alike! Some really watch over themselves like nuns, and butter would not melt in their mouths; and if such a one does sin in an hour of weakness, she is worried to death, poor thing! so it would be a sin to condemn her. While others

ave a sigh and look towards the ikons. There was an

she used to rule in a certain old man's house, if one went to her she would give one a crust, and bid one bow down to the ikons while she would sing: 'In conception Thou dost abide a V

at the ikons again

na," said Anna Akimovna to change th

highly educated gentlemen, but you ought

you, you poor little fool. But a merchant will be so strict that you won't feel at home in your own house. You'll be wanting to fondle him and he will

ne another, and Auntie tapped on the table wit

't have one! If you choose a merc

ut yet, my child, it doesn't seem the right thing for you to be an old maid. I'll find you, you know, some trumpery and simple-witted man. You'll marry him for appearances and then have your fling, bonny lass! You can hand him five thousand or ten maybe, and pack him

ful," sai

's a sin." Stinging Beetle emptied her glass and cleared her throat. "Have your fling, bonny lass," this time evidently addressing herself. "For thirty years, wenches, I have thought of nothing but sins and been afraid, but now I see I have wasted my time, I've let it slip by like a ninny! Ah, I have been a fool, a fool!" She sighed. "A woman's time is short and every day is precious. You are handsome, An

ovna. "I don't care now; I

ellow you would choose then!" Stinging Beetle scr

entleman, but some one humbler; anyway we should have a man in the house to look after things. And there

ey are capital fellows. If you like, Aunt, I wil

," said Auntie seriously. "He

hter in the cr

ke to marry Pimenov?" Stingi

e a match for m

all

ely, and she struck her fist on the t

all

s she ran up the stairs and, reaching the upper story, sat down to the piano in the drawing-room, a murmur of sound reached her from below like the roar of the sea; most li

third; she went on playing without stopping. She looked into the dark corner beyond the piano, smiled, and inwardly called to it, and the idea occurred to her that she might drive off to the town to see some one, Lysevitch for ins

ith entreaty, with tears, "Pimenov, take this burden from me!" And then, just as though her sins had been forgiven, there would be joy and comfort in her soul, and perhaps a free, happy life would begin. In an anguish of anticipation she leant over the keys, with a passionate longing for the change in her life to come at once without de

and three anonymous letters. In one of them some workman complained in a horrible, almost illegible handwriting that Lenten oil sold in the factory shop was rancid and smelt of paraffin; in

tably she had spoken at dinner today. She looked round at the dark windows, at the walls with the pictures, at the faint light that came from the big room, and all at once she began suddenl

is reefer jacket, came in, and without speaking lighted two candles; th

at?" she asked, notic

laughing mouth. "If he were sat down to dinner today with Viktor Nikolaevitch and the general, he'd have died

that all she had said and thought about Pimenov and marrying a workman was nonsense, folly, and wilfulness. To convince herself of the opposite, to overcome her repulsion, she tried to recall what she had said at dinner, but now she could not see anything in it: shame at her own thoughts and actions, and the fear that she had said something improper during the day, and disgust at her own lack of sp

wning, "but I did not dare to announce him; he wa

a Akimovna, and she flung her comb on

ver leave off persecuting her, and would remind her every day how uninteresting and a

workpeople taken together. She thought that if the long day she had just spent could have been represented in a picture, all that had been bad and vulgar - as, for instance, the dinner, the lawyer's talk, the game of "kings" - would have been true, while her dreams and talk about Pimenov would have stoo

perplexity; then she, too, began crying, and laid her face against her

aughing and crying. "We are fools! Oh