XIII
Everything was going well with Kirsánof, as he thought. His attachment was renewed, and stronger than before; but the struggle with it did not present any serious suffering; it was easy. Here Kirsánof was at the Lopukhófs’ for the second time since Dmitri Sergéitch’s cure was effected; and he was going to stay till nine o’clock; that would be enough; formality would be observed. Next he would call in two weeks’ time; then the separation would be almost accomplished. And now it would be necessary to sit one hour more. And during this week the development of his passion had been about half scotched; in a month everything would be over. He is very well satisfied; he takes part in the conversation as naturally as possible, because he is rejoiced at his success, and his very satisfaction gives him greater unconcern.
Lopukhóf expected to go out of doors for the first time on the morrow. On this account Viéra Pavlovna was in a remarkably lively state of mind; she was even more rejoiced than the invalid himself. The conversation turned upon the illness. They laughed about it; and they praised, in a jocular tone, Viéra Pavlovna’s wifely self-sacrifice, who had nearly upset her own health by worrying over what was not worth worrying about.
“Laugh away, laugh away,” she said; “but I know well that if you had been in my place, you would not have had enough strength of mind to act any way different.”
“What an influence the solicitude of others has upon a person,” said Lopukhóf; “now, the sick man himself is subjected to the delusion that he must take God-knows-what care of himself, when he sees that people are worried on his account. I might have left the house three days ago, but I still stayed in the house; and this very morning I wanted to go out, but I postponed it for one day more, so that there might be less danger.”
“Yes, you might have gone out a long time ago,” said Kirsánof in confirmation.
“Now, I call this heroism, and, to tell the truth, I am awfully tired of it; I should like to go out this instant.”
“My dear, it was for the sake of putting me at ease that you showed your heroism. But let us go out this very moment, if you are so anxious to put an end to your quarantine. I am going to run over to the shop for half an hour; let’s all go together. It will be very good of you, after your sickness, to pay your first visit to our union. The girls will notice it, and will be greatly pleased at such an attention.”
“All right; let’s go all together,” said Lopukhóf, with noticeable satisfaction at the idea of breathing fresh air today.
“I declare! the hostess has shown fine tact!” said Viéra Pavlovna. “It did not occur to me that perhaps Aleksandr Matvéitch might not care to go with us.”
“No, on the contrary, it is very interesting to me; I have been wanting, for a long time, to go there. Your thought is a happy one.”
In point of fact, Viéra Pavlovna’s suggestion turned out propitiously. The girls were really delighted that Lopukhóf paid them the first visit after his sickness. Kirsánof was greatly interested in the shop; and a man of his turn of thought could not help being interested. If a special cause had not prevented him, he would have been from the very first one of the most enthusiastic instructors in it. Half an hour, or maybe even an hour, in the shop passed before they knew it. Viéra Pavlovna led him through the different rooms, and showed him everything. While they were returning from the dining-hall into the working-rooms, a girl, who had not been in the working-rooms, came up to Viéra Pavlovna. The girl and Kirsánof looked at each other.
“Nástenka!”
“Sasha!” and they embraced each other.
“Sáshenka, my dear, how glad I am to see you!” The girl kept on kissing him, and laughed and cried at once. Coming to her senses from joy, she said: “No, Viéra Pavlovna, I am not going to speak about business now; I cannot part from him. Come, Sáshenka, let us go to my room.”
Kirsánof was no less glad than she. But Viéra Pavlovna noticed an expression of deep grief in his eyes, after he recognized her. And this was not to be wondered at; the girl was in the last stages of consumption.
Nástenka had entered the union about a year before, and even then was very ill. If she had remained in the shop where she had been working till that time, she would have died. But in the union there was a chance for her to live somewhat longer. The girls entirely relieved her from sewing. It was easy for them to give her other work that was not harmful for her to do. She looked after the little interests of the shop; she took charge of the closets; she received orders; and no one could say that Nástenka was less useful that anyone else in the shop.
The Lopukhófs went away, without waiting for Kirsánof to finish his interview with Nástenka.