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And lo! one morning, Kupfer again presented himself to him, this time with a somewhat embarrassed visage.

“I know,” he began, with a forced laugh, “that thy visit that evening was not to thy taste; but I hope that thou wilt consent to my proposal nevertheless … and wilt not refuse my request.”

“What art thou talking about?” inquired Aratoff.

“See here,” pursued Kupfer, becoming more and more animated; “there exists here a certain society of amateurs and artists, which from time to time organises readings, concerts, even theatrical representations, for philanthropic objects….”

“And the Princess takes part?” interrupted Aratoff.

“The Princess always takes part in good works–but that is of no consequence. We have got up a literary and musical morning … and at that performance thou mayest hear a young girl … a remarkable young girl!–We do not quite know, as yet, whether she will turn out a Rachel or a Viardot … for she sings splendidly, and declaims and acts…. She has talent of the first class, my dear fellow! I am not exaggerating.–So here now … wilt not thou take a ticket?–Five rubles if thou wishest the first row.”

“And where did this wonderful young girl come from?” asked Aratoff.

Kupfer grinned.–“That I cannot say…. Of late she has found an asylum with the Princess. The Princess, as thou knowest, is a patron of all such people…. And it is probable that thou sawest her that evening.”

Aratoff started inwardly, faintly … but made no answer.

“She has even acted somewhere in country districts,” went on Kupfer, “and, on the whole, she was created for the theatre. Thou shalt see for thyself!”

“Is her name Clara?” asked Aratoff.

“Yes, Clara….”

“Clara!” interrupted Aratoff again.–“It cannot be!”

“Why not?–Clara it is, … Clara Militch; that is not her real name … but that is what she is called. She is to sing a romance by Glinka … and one by Tchaikovsky, and then she will recite the letter from ‘Evgeny Onyegin'[55]–Come now! Wilt thou take a ticket?”

FOOTNOTE: [55]
The famous letter from the heroine, Tatyana, to the hero, Evgeny Onyegin, in Pushkin’s celebrated poem. The music to the opera of the same name, which has this poem for its basis, is by Tchaikovsky. –TRANSLATOR.

“But when is it to be?”

“To-morrow … to-morrow, at half-past one, in a private hall, on Ostozhyonka Street…. I will come for thee. A ticket at five rubles?… Here it is…. No, this is a three-ruble ticket.–Here it is.–And here is the affiche.[56]–I am one of the managers.”

FOOTNOTE:
[56]
Advertisements of theatres, concerts, and
amusements in general, are not published in the daily
papers, but in an affiche, printed every morning,
for which a separate subscription is necessary.
–TRANSLATOR.

Aratoff reflected. Platonida Ivanovna entered the room at that moment and, glancing at his face, was suddenly seized with agitation.–“Yasha,” she exclaimed, “what ails thee? Why art thou so excited? Feodor Feodorovitch, what hast thou been saying to him?”

But Aratoff did not give his friend a chance to answer his aunt’s question, and hastily seizing the ticket which was held out to him, he ordered Platonida Ivanovna to give Kupfer five rubles on the instant.

She was amazed, and began to blink her eyes…. Nevertheless, she handed Kupfer the money in silence. Yashenka had shouted at her in a very severe manner.

“She’s a marvel of marvels, I tell thee!” cried Kupfer, darting toward the door.–“Expect me to-morrow!”

“Has she black eyes?” called Aratoff after him.

“As black as coal!” merrily roared Kupfer, and disappeared.

Aratoff went off to his own room, while Platonida Ivanovna remained rooted to the spot, repeating: “Help, Lord! Lord, help!”

IV

The large hall in a private house on Ostozhyonka Street was already half filled with spectators when Aratoff and Kupfer arrived. Theatrical representations were sometimes given in that hall, but on this occasion neither stage-scenery nor curtain were visible. Those who had organised the “morning” had confined themselves to erecting a platform at one end, placing thereon a piano and a couple of music-racks, a few chairs, a table with a carafe of water and a glass, and hanging a curtain of red cloth over the door which led to the room set apart for the artists. In the first row the Princess was already seated, clad in a bright green gown; Aratoff placed himself at some distance from her, after barely exchanging a bow with her. The audience was what is called motley; it consisted chiefly of young men from various institutions of learning. Kupfer, in his quality of a manager, with a white ribbon on the lapel of his dress-coat, bustled and fussed about with all his might; the Princess was visibly excited, kept looking about her, launching smiles in all directions, and chatting with her neighbours … there were only men in her immediate vicinity.