meanwhile winter came on. long before christmas there was an announcement in the local papers that the usual winter ball would take place on the twenty-ninth of december in the hall of nobility. every evening after cards modest alexeitch was excitedly whispering with his colleagues’ wives and glancing at anna, and then paced up and down the room for a long while, thinking. at last, late one evening, he stood still, facing anna, and said:
“you ought to get yourself a ball dress. do you understand? only please consult marya grigoryevna and natalya kuzminishna.”
and he gave her a hundred roubles. she took the money, but she did not consult any one when she ordered the ball dress; she spoke to no one but her father, and tried to imagine how her mother would have dressed for a ball. her mother had always dressed in the latest fashion and had always taken trouble over anna, dressing her elegantly like a doll, and had taught her to speak french and dance the mazurka superbly (she had been a governess for five years before her marriage). like her mother, anna could make a new dress out of an old one, clean gloves with benzine, hire jewels; and, like her mother, she knew how to screw up her eyes, lisp, assume graceful attitudes, fly into raptures when necessary, and throw a mournful and enigmatic look into her eyes. and from her father she had inherited the dark colour of her hair and eyes, her highly-strung nerves, and the habit of always making herself look her best.
when, half an hour before setting off for the ball, modest alexeitch went into her room without his coat on, to put his order round his neck before her pier-glass, dazzled by her beauty and the splendour of her fresh, ethereal dress, he combed his whiskers complacently and said:
“so that’s what my wife can look like . . . so that’s what you can look like! anyuta!” he went on, dropping into a tone of solemnity, “i have made your fortune, and now i beg you to do something for mine. i beg you to get introduced to the wife of his excellency! for god’s sake, do! through her i may get the post of senior reporting clerk!”
they went to the ball. they reached the hall of nobility, the entrance with the hall porter. they came to the vestibule with the hat-stands, the fur coats; footmen scurrying about, and ladies with low necks putting up their fans to screen themselves from the draughts. there was a smell of gas and of soldiers. when anna, walking upstairs on her husband’s arm, heard the music and saw herself full length in the looking-glass in the full glow of the lights, there was a rush of joy in her heart, and she felt the same presentiment of happiness as in the moonlight at the station. she walked in proudly, confidently, for the first time feeling herself not a girl but a lady, and unconsciously imitating her mother in her walk and in her manner. and for the first time in her life she felt rich and free. even her husband’s presence did not oppress her, for as she crossed the threshold of the hall she had guessed instinctively that the proximity of an old husband did not detract from her in the least, but, on the contrary, gave her that shade of piquant mystery that is so attractive to men. the orchestra was already playing and the dances had begun. after their flat anna was overwhelmed by the lights, the bright colours, the music, the noise, and looking round the room, thought, “oh, how lovely!” she at once distinguished in the crowd all her acquaintances, every one she had met before at parties or on picnics — all the officers, the teachers, the lawyers, the officials, the landowners, his excellency, artynov, and the ladies of the highest standing, dressed up and very décollettées, handsome and ugly, who had already taken up their positions in the stalls and pavilions of the charity bazaar, to begin selling things for the benefit of the poor. a huge officer in epaulettes — she had been introduced to him in staro–kievsky street when she was a schoolgirl, but now she could not remember his name — seemed to spring from out of the ground, begging her for a waltz, and she flew away from her husband, feeling as though she were floating away in a sailing-boat in a violent storm, while her husband was left far away on the shore. she danced passionately, with fervour, a waltz, then a polka and a quadrille, being snatched by one partner as soon as she was left by another, dizzy with music and the noise, mixing russian with french, lisping, laughing, and with no thought of her husband or anything else. she excited great admiration among the men — that was evident, and indeed it could not have been otherwise; she was breathless with excitement, felt thirsty, and convulsively clutched her fan. pyotr leontyitch, her father, in a crumpled dress-coat that smelt of benzine, came up to her, offering her a plate of pink ice.
“you are enchanting this evening,” he said, looking at her rapturously, “and i have never so much regretted that you were in such a hurry to get married. . . . what was it for? i know you did it for our sake, but . . .” with a shaking hand he drew out a roll of notes and said: “i got the money for my lessons today, and can pay your husband what i owe him.”
she put the plate back into his hand, and was pounced upon by some one and borne off to a distance. she caught a glimpse over her partner’s shoulder of her father gliding over the floor, putting his arm round a lady and whirling down the ball-room with her.
“how sweet he is when he is sober!” she thought.
she danced the mazurka with the same huge officer; he moved gravely, as heavily as a dead carcase in a uniform, twitched his shoulders and his chest, stamped his feet very languidly — he felt fearfully disinclined to dance. she fluttered round him, provoking him by her beauty, her bare neck; her eyes glowed defiantly, her movements were passionate, while he became more and more indifferent, and held out his hands to her as graciously as a king.
“bravo, bravo!” said people watching them.
but little by little the huge officer, too, broke out; he grew lively, excited, and, overcome by her fascination, was carried away and danced lightly, youthfully, while she merely moved her shoulders and looked slyly at him as though she were now the queen and he were her slave; and at that moment it seemed to her that the whole room was looking at them, and that everybody was thrilled and envied them. the huge officer had hardly had time to thank her for the dance, when the crowd suddenly parted and the men drew themselves up in a strange way, with their hands at their sides.
his excellency, with two stars on his dress-coat, was walking up to her. yes, his excellency was walking straight towards her, for he was staring directly at her with a sugary smile, while he licked his lips as he always did when he saw a pretty woman.
“delighted, delighted . . .” he began. “i shall order your husband to be clapped in a lock-up for keeping such a treasure hidden from us till now. i’ve come to you with a message from my wife,” he went on, offering her his arm. “you must help us. . . . m-m-yes. . . . we ought to give you the prize for beauty as they do in america . . . . m-m-yes. . . . the americans. . . . my wife is expecting you impatiently.”
he led her to a stall and presented her to a middle-aged lady, the lower part of whose face was disproportionately large, so that she looked as though she were holding a big stone in her mouth.
“you must help us,” she said through her nose in a sing-song voice. “all the pretty women are working for our charity bazaar, and you are the only one enjoying yourself. why won’t you help us?”
she went away, and anna took her place by the cups and the silver samovar. she was soon doing a lively trade. anna asked no less than a rouble for a cup of tea, and made the huge officer drink three cups. artynov, the rich man with prominent eyes, who suffered from asthma, came up, too; he was not dressed in the strange costume in which anna had seen him in the summer at the station, but wore a dress-coat like every one else. keeping his eyes fixed on anna, he drank a glass of champagne and paid a hundred roubles for it, then drank some tea and gave another hundred — all this without saying a word, as he was short of breath through asthma. . . . anna invited purchasers and got money out of them, firmly convinced by now that her smiles and glances could not fail to afford these people great pleasure. she realized now that she was created exclusively for this noisy, brilliant, laughing life, with its music, its dancers, its adorers, and her old terror of a force that was sweeping down upon her and menacing to crush her seemed to her ridiculous: she was afraid of no one now, and only regretted that her mother could not be there to rejoice at her success.
pyotr leontyitch, pale by now but still steady on his legs, came up to the stall and asked for a glass of brandy. anna turned crimson, expecting him to say something inappropriate (she was already ashamed of having such a poor and ordinary father); but he emptied his glass, took ten roubles out of his roll of notes, flung it down, and walked away with dignity without uttering a word. a little later she saw him dancing in the grand chain, and by now he was staggering and kept shouting something, to the great confusion of his partner; and anna remembered how at the ball three years before he had staggered and shouted in the same way, and it had ended in the police-sergeant’s taking him home to bed, and next day the director had threatened to dismiss him from his post. how inappropriate that memory was!
when the samovars were put out in the stalls and the exhausted ladies handed over their takings to the middle-aged lady with the stone in her mouth, artynov took anna on his arm to the hall where supper was served to all who had assisted at the bazaar. there were some twenty people at supper, not more, but it was very noisy. his excellency proposed a toast:
“in this magnificent dining-room it will be appropriate to drink to the success of the cheap dining-rooms, which are the object of today’s bazaar.”
the brigadier-general proposed the toast: “to the power by which even the artillery is vanquished,” and all the company clinked glasses with the ladies. it was very, very gay.
when anna was escorted home it was daylight and the cooks were going to market. joyful, intoxicated, full of new sensations, exhausted, she undressed, dropped into bed, and at once fell asleep . . . .
it was past one in the afternoon when the servant waked her and announced that m. artynov had called. she dressed quickly and went down into the drawing-room. soon after artynov, his excellency called to thank her for her assistance in the bazaar. with a sugary smile, chewing his lips, he kissed her hand, and asking her permission to come again, took his leave, while she remained standing in the middle of the drawing-room, amazed, enchanted, unable to believe that this change in her life, this marvellous change, had taken place so quickly; and at that moment modest alexeitch walked in . . . and he, too, stood before her now with the same ingratiating, sugary, cringingly respectful expression which she was accustomed to see on his face in the presence of the great and powerful; and with rapture, with indignation, with contempt, convinced that no harm would come to her from it, she said, articulating distinctly each word:
“be off, you blockhead!”
from this time forward anna never had one day free, as she was always taking part in picnics, expeditions, performances. she returned home every day after midnight, and went to bed on the floor in the drawing-room, and afterwards used to tell every one, touchingly, how she slept under flowers. she needed a very great deal of money, but she was no longer afraid of modest alexeitch, and spent his money as though it were her own; and she did not ask, did not demand it, simply sent him in the bills. “give bearer two hundred roubles,” or “pay one hundred roubles at once.”
at easter modest alexeitch received the anna of the second grade. when he went to offer his thanks, his excellency put aside the paper he was reading and settled himself more comfortably in his chair.
“so now you have three annas,” he said, scrutinizing his white hands and pink nails —“one on your buttonhole and two on your neck.”
modest alexeitch put two fingers to his lips as a precaution against laughing too loud and said:
“now i have only to look forward to the arrival of a little vladimir. i make bold to beg your excellency to stand godfather.”
he was alluding to vladimir of the fourth grade, and was already imagining how he would tell everywhere the story of this pun, so happy in its readiness and audacity, and he wanted to say something equally happy, but his excellency was buried again in his newspaper, and merely gave him a nod.
and anna went on driving about with three horses, going out hunting with artynov, playing in one-act dramas, going out to supper, and was more and more rarely with her own family; they dined now alone. pyotr leontyitch was drinking more heavily than ever; there was no money, and the harmonium had been sold long ago for debt. the boys did not let him go out alone in the street now, but looked after him for fear he might fall down; and whenever they met anna driving in staro–kievsky street with a pair of horses and artynov on the box instead of a coachman, pyotr leontyitch took off his top-hat, and was about to shout to her, but petya and andrusha took him by the arm, and said imploringly:
“you mustn’t, father. hush, father!”