Uncle's dream; And The Permanent Husband Part 41

"Sit down, Alexey Ivanovitch, sit down! You shall not repent it!" said Pavel Pavlovitch in a wheedling voice. "No, no, no!" he added, deprecating the impatient gesture which Velchaninoff made at this moment. "Alexey Ivanovitch, I entreat you to pause before you decide definitely. I see you have quite misunderstood me. I quite realize that I am not for you, nor you for me! I am not quite so absurd as to be unaware of that fact. The service I ask of you now shall not compromise you in any way for the future. I am going away the day after to-morrow, for certain; let this one day be an exceptional one for me, sir. I came to you founding my hopes upon the generosity and n.o.bility of your heart, Alexey Ivanovitch-upon those special tender feelings which may, perhaps, have been aroused in you by late events. Am I explaining myself clearly, sir; or do you still misunderstand me?"

The agitation of Pavel Pavlovitch was increasing with every moment.

Velchaninoff gazed curiously at him.

"You ask a service of me," he said thoughtfully, "and insist strongly upon my performance of it. This is very suspicious, in my opinion; I must know more."

"The whole service I ask is merely that you will come with me; and I promise, when we return that I will lay bare my heart to you as though we were at a confessional. Trust me this once, Alexey Ivanovitch!"

But Velchaninoff still held out, and the more obstinately because he was conscious of a certain worrying feeling which he had had ever since Pavel Pavlovitch began to talk about his bride. Whether this feeling was simple curiosity, or something quite inexplicable, he knew not. Whatever it was it urged him to agree, and go. And the more the instinct urged him, the more he resisted it.

He sat and thought for a long time, his head resting on his hand, while Pavel Pavlovitch buzzed about him and continued to repeat his arguments.

"Very well," he said at last, "very well, I'll go." He was agitated almost to trembling pitch. Pavel was radiant.

"Then, Alexey Ivanovitch, change your clothes-dress up, will you? Dress up in your own style-you know so well how to do it."

Pavel Pavlovitch danced about Velchaninoff as he dressed. His state of mind was exuberantly blissful.

"What in the world does the fellow mean by it all?" thought Velchaninoff.

"I'm going to ask you one more favour yet, Alexey Ivanovitch," cried the other. "You've consented to come; you must be my guide, sir, too."

"For instance, how?"

"Well, for instance, here's an important question-the c.r.a.pe. Which ought I to do-tear it off, or leave it on?"

"Just as you like."

"No, I want your opinion. What should you do yourself, if you were wearing c.r.a.pe, under the circ.u.mstances? My own idea was, that if I left it on, I should be giving a proof of the fidelity of my affections. A very flattering recommendation, eh, sir?"

"Oh, take it off, of course."

"Do you really think it's a matter of 'of course'?" Pavel Pavlovitch reflected. "No," he continued, "do you know, I think I'd rather leave it on."

"Well, do as you like! He doesn't trust me, at all events, which is one good thing," thought Velchaninoff.

They left the house at last. Pavel looked over his companion's smart costume with intense satisfaction. Velchaninoff was greatly surprised at Pavel's conduct, but not less so at his own. At the gate there stood a very superior open carriage.

"H'm! so you had a carriage in waiting, had you? Then you were quite convinced that I would consent to come down with you, I suppose?"

"I took the carriage for my own use, but I was nearly sure you would come," said Pavel Pavlovitch, who wore the air of a man whose cup of happiness is full to the brim.

"Don't you think you are a little too sanguine in trusting so much to my benevolence?" asked Velchaninoff, as they took their seats and started. He smiled as he spoke, but his heart was full of annoyance.

"Well, Alexey Ivanovitch, it is not for _you_ to call me a fool for that,"

replied Pavel, firmly and impressively.

"H'm! and Liza?" thought Velchaninoff, but he chased the idea away, he felt as though it were sacrilege to think of her here; and immediately another thought came in, namely, how small, how petty a creature he must be himself to harbour such a thought-such a mean, paltry sentiment in connection with Liza's sacred name. So angry was he, that he felt as though he must stop the carriage and get out, even though it cost him a struggle with Pavel Pavlovitch to do so.

But at this moment Pavel spoke, and the old feeling of desire to go with him re-entered his soul. "Alexey Ivanovitch," Pavel said, "are you a judge of articles of value?"

"What sort of articles?"

"Diamonds."

"Yes."

"I wish to take down a present with me. What do you think? Ought I to give her one, or not?"

"Quite unnecessary, I should think."

"But I wish to do it, badly. The only thing is, what shall I give?-a whole set, brooch, ear-rings, bracelet, and all, or only one article?"

"How much do you wish to spend?"

"Oh, four or five hundred roubles."

"Bosh!"

"What, too much?"

"Buy one bracelet for about a hundred."

This advice depressed Pavel Pavlovitch; he grew wondrous melancholy. He was terribly anxious to spend a lot of money, and buy the whole set. He insisted upon the necessity of doing so.

A shop was reached and entered, and Pavel bought a bracelet after all, and that not the one he chose himself, but the one which his companion fixed upon. Pavel wished to buy both. When the shopman, who originally asked one hundred and seventy five, let the bracelet go for a hundred and fifty roubles, Pavel Pavlovitch was anything but pleased. He was most anxious to spend a lot of money on the young lady, and would have gladly paid two hundred roubles for the same goods, on the slightest encouragement.

"It doesn't matter, my being in a hurry to give her presents, does it?" he began excitedly, when they were back in the carriage, and rolling along once more. "They are not 'swells' at all; they live most simply. Innocence loves presents," he continued, smiling cunningly. "You laughed just now, Alexey Ivanovitch, when I said that the girl was only fifteen; but, you know, what specially struck me about her was, that she still goes to school, with a sweet little bag in her hand, containing copy books and pencils. Ha-ha-ha! It was the little satchel that 'fetched' me. I do love innocence, Alexey Ivanovitch. I don't care half so much for good looks as for innocence. Fancy, she and her friend were sitting in the corner there, the other day, and roared with laughter because the cat jumped from a cupboard on to the sofa, and fell down all of a heap. Why, it smells of fresh apples, that does, sir. Shall I take off the c.r.a.pe, eh?"

"Do as you like!"

"Well, I'll take it off!" He took his hat, tore the c.r.a.pe off, and threw the latter into the road.

Velchaninoff remarked that as he put his hat on his bald head once more, he wore an expression of the simplest and frankest hope and delight.

"Is he _really_ that sort of man?" thought Velchaninoff with annoyance.

"He surely _can't_ be trundling me down here without some underhand motive-impossible! He _can't_ be trusting entirely to my generosity?" This last idea seemed to fill him with indignation. "What _is_ this clown of a fellow?" he continued to reflect. "Is he a fool, an idiot, or simply a 'permanent husband'? I can't make head or tail of it all!"

CHAPTER XII.

The Zachlebnikoffs were certainly, as Velchaninoff had expressed it, a most respectable family. Zachlebnikoff himself was a most eminently dignified and "solid" gentleman to look at. What Pavel Pavlovitch had said as to their resources was, however, quite true; they lived well, but if paterfamilias were to die, it would be very awkward for the rest.

Old Zachlebnikoff received Velchaninoff most cordially. He was no longer the legal opponent; he appeared now in a far more agreeable guise.