little corner of
what was generally known by the terrible name of "society." He had long
thirsted, for reasons of his own, to penetrate the mysteries of the
magic circle, and, therefore, this assemblage was of the greatest
possible interest to him.
His first impression was one of fascination. Somehow or other he felt
that all these people must have been born on purpose to be together! It
seemed to him that the Epanchins were not having a party at all; that
these people must have been here always, and that he himself was one
of them--returned among them after a long absence, but one of them,
naturally and indisputably.
It never struck him that all this refined simplicity and nobility and
wit and personal dignity might possibly be no more than an exquisite
artistic polish. The majority of the guests--who were somewhat
empty-headed, after all, in spite of their aristocratic bearing--never
guessed, in their self-satisfied composure, that much of their
superiority was mere veneer, which indeed they had adopted unconsciously
and by inheritance.
The prince would never so much as suspect such a thing in the delight of
his first impression.
He saw, for instance, that one important dignitary, old enough to be his
grandfather, broke off his own conversation in order to listen to HIM--a
young and inexperienced man; and not only listened, but seemed to
attach value to his opinion, and was kind and amiable, and yet they
were strangers and had never seen each other before. Perhaps what most
appealed to the prince's impressionability was the refinement of the old
man's courtesy towards him. Perhaps the soil of his susceptible nature
was really predisposed to receive a pleasant impression.
Meanwhile all these people-though friends of the family and of each
other to a certain extent--were very far from being such intimate
friends of the family and of each other as the prince concluded. There
were some present who never would think of considering the Epanchins
their equals. There were even some who hated one another cordially. For
instance, old Princess Bielokonski had all her life despised the wife
of the "dignitary," while the latter was very far from loving Lizabetha
Prokofievna. The dignitary himself had been General Epanchin's protector
from his youth up; and the general considered him so majestic a
personage that he would have felt a hearty contempt for himself if
he had even for one moment allowed himself to pose as the
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