which you generally pay so little heed in
your private affairs. There's no need of haste, however," she added,
scanning the knot of his white tie, "for the present say nothing, and I
will say nothing. It will soon be your birthday; I will come to see you
with her. Give us tea in the evening, and please without wine or other
refreshments, but I'll arrange it all myself. Invite your friends, but
we'll make the list together. You can talk to her the day before, if
necessary. And at your party we won't exactly announce it, or make an
engagement of any sort, but only hint at it, and let people know without
any sort of ceremony. And then the wedding a fortnight later, as far
as possible without any fuss.... You two might even go away for a time
after the wedding, to Moscow, for instance. I'll go with you, too,
perhaps... The chief thing is, keep quiet till then."

Stepan Trofimovitch was surprised. He tried to falter that he could
not do like that, that he must talk it over with his bride. But Varvara
Petrovna flew at him in exasperation.

"What for? In the first place it may perhaps come to nothing."

"Come to nothing!" muttered the bridegroom, utterly dumbfoundered.

"Yes. I'll see.... But everything shall be as I've told you, and don't
be uneasy. I'll prepare her myself. There's really no need for you.
Everything necessary shall be said and done, and there's no need for you
to meddle. Why should you? In what character? Don't come and don't write
letters. And not a sight or sound of you, I beg. I will be silent too."

She absolutely refused to explain herself, and went away, obviously
upset. Stepan Trofimovitch's excessive readiness evidently impressed
her. Alas! he was utterly unable to grasp his position, and the question
had not yet presented itself to him from certain other points of view.
On the contrary a new note was apparent in him, a sort of conquering and
jaunty air. He swaggered.

"I do like that!" he exclaimed, standing before me, and flinging wide
his arms. "Did you hear? She wants to drive me to refusing at last. Why,
I may lose patience, too, and... refuse! 'Sit still, there's no need
for you to go to her.' But after all, why should I be married? Simply
because she's taken an absurd fancy into her heart. But I'm a serious
man, and I can refuse to submit to the idle whims of a giddy-woman! I
have duties to my son and...and to myself! I'm making a sacrifice. Does
she realise that? I have agreed, perhaps,