The Little Demon, Fyodor Sologub [reading the story of the TXT] 📗

she heard the maid’s name; and asked in a doubtful voice:

“Klavdia? What on earth shall I call her⁠—Klashka?”

“Why don’t you call her Klavdiushka?” suggested Grushina. This pleased Varvara.

“Klavdiushka, diushka!” she said with a crackling laugh. It should be observed that in our town a pig is called a “diushka.” Volodin grunted; everyone laughed.

“Diushka, diushenka,” lisped Volodin between the laughter, screwing up his stupid face and protruding his underlip. And he kept on grunting and making a fool of himself until he was told that he was a nuisance. Then he left his chair, with an expression of injury on his face, and sat down beside Peredonov. He lowered his large forehead like a ram and fixed his eyes on a spot on the soiled tablecloth.

On the way to Samorodina Varvara decided that she would buy the material for her wedding dress. She always went shopping with Grushina who helped her to make selections and to bargain.

Unseen by Peredonov, Varvara had stealthily stuffed Grushina’s deep pockets with sweets and tarts and other gifts for her children. Grushina surmised that Varvara was in great need of her services.

Varvara’s narrow, high-heeled shoes would not allow her to walk much. She quickly became fatigued. It was for this reason that she usually took a cab, though the distances in our town are not great. Latterly, she had frequented Grushina’s house. The cabbies had noticed this, for there were only about a score of them. When Varvara entered a cab they never asked her where she wanted to go.

They seated themselves in a drozhky and were driven to the house where Klavdia was servant-maid, in order to make inquiries about her. The streets were dirty almost everywhere although it had rained only the day before. The drozhky no sooner rattled on to a solid paved part of the road than it plunged again into the clinging mud of the unpaved sections. But, by way of compensation, Varvara’s voice rattled on continuously, now and then accompanied by Grushina’s sympathetic chatter.

“My goose has been to Marfushka’s again,” said Varvara.

Grushina answered in a sympathetic outburst: “That’s how they’re trying to catch him. And why not, he’d be a great catch, especially for Marfushka. She never dreamt of anyone like him.”

“Really, I don’t know what to do,” confessed Varvara. “He’s become so obstinate lately⁠—it’s simply awful. Believe me, my head’s in a constant whirl. He’ll really marry and then there’s nothing for me but the streets.”

“Don’t worry, darling Varvara,” said Grushina consolingly. “Don’t think about it. He’ll never marry anyone but you. He’s used to you.”

“He sometimes goes off in the evening, and I can’t get to sleep afterwards,” said Varvara. “Who knows? Perhaps he’s courting some girl. Sometimes I toss about all night. Everyone has her eye on him⁠—even those three Routilov mares of women⁠—but of course they’d hang around any man’s neck. And that fat Zhenka’s after him too.”

Varvara went on complaining for a long time, and all her conversation led Grushina to think that Varvara had some favour to ask of her, and she was gratified at the prospect of a reward.

Klavdia pleased Varvara. The excise officer’s wife strongly recommended her. They engaged her and told her to come that evening, as the excise officer was leaving at once.

At last they came to Grushina’s house. Grushina lived in her own house in a slovenly enough fashion. The three children were bedraggled, dirty, stupid and malicious, like dogs that have just come out of water.

Their confidences were just beginning.

“My fool, Ardalyosha,” began Varvara, “wants me to write to the Princess again. It’s a waste of time to write to her. She’ll either not answer or she’ll answer unsatisfactorily. We’re not on very intimate terms.”

The Princess Volchanskaya, with whom Varvara had lived in the past as a seamstress for simple domestic things, could have helped Peredonov, since her daughter was married to the Privy-Councillor Stchepkin, who held an important position in the department of Education. She had already written in answer to Varvara’s petitions in the past year that she could not ask anything for Varvara’s fiancé, but she might for her husband, if the opportunity offered. This letter did not satisfy Peredonov, since it expressed merely a vague hope, and did not definitely state that the Princess would actually find Varvara’s husband an inspector’s position. In order to clear up this doubt they had lately gone to St. Petersburg; Varvara went to the Princess and later she took Peredonov with her, but purposely delayed the visit so that they did not find the Princess at home: Varvara realised that at best the Princess would merely have advised them to get married soon, making a few vague promises which would not have satisfied Peredonov. And Varvara decided not to let Peredonov meet the Princess.

“I’ve no one to depend upon but you,” said Varvara. “Help me, darling Marya Ossipovna!”

“How can I help, my dearest Varvara Dmitrievna?” asked Grushina. “Of course you know I’m ready to do anything I can for you. Shall I read your fortune for you?”

Varvara laughed and said: “I know how clever you are, but you must help me another way.”

“How?” asked Grushina, with a tremulous, expectant pleasure.

“That’s very simple,” replied Varvara. “You write a letter in the Princess’s handwriting and I’ll show it to Ardalyon Borisitch.”

“But, my dear, how can I do it?” said Grushina, pretending to be alarmed. “What would become of me if I should be found out?”

Varvara was not in the least disconcerted by her answer, but pulled a crumpled letter out of her pocket, saying:

“I’ve brought one of the Princess’s letters for you to copy.”

Grushina refused for a long time. Varvara saw clearly that Grushina would consent, but that she was bargaining for a bigger reward, while Varvara wanted to give less. She gradually increased her promises of various small gifts, among them an old silk dress, until Grushina saw that Varvara could not be persuaded to give any more. A stream of entreaties poured from Varvara’s mouth,