years,’ but he will, we think, make a useful and active man. The prince’s further fate was more or less decided by Co-
lia, who selected, out of all the persons he had met during the last six or seven months, Evgenie Pavlovitch, as friend and confidant. To him he made over all that he knew as to the events above recorded, and as to the present condition of the prince. He was not far wrong in his choice. Evgenie Pavlovitch took the deepest interest in the fate of the unfor-tunate ‘idiot,’ and, thanks to his influence, the prince found himself once more with Dr. Schneider, in Switzerland.
Evgenie Pavlovitch, who went abroad at this time, in-tending to live a long while on the continent, being, as he often said, quite superfluous in Russia, visits his sick friend at Schneider’s every few months.
But Dr. Schneider frowns ever more and more and shakes his head; he hints that the brain is fatally injured; he does not as yet declare that his patient is incurable, but he allows himself to express the gravest fears.
Evgenie takes this much to heart, and he has a heart, as is proved by the fact that he receives and even answers letters from Colia. But besides this, another trait in his character has become apparent, and as it is a good trait we will make haste to reveal it. After each visit to Schneider’s establish-ment, Evgenie Pavlovitch writes another letter, besides that to Colia, giving the most minute particulars concerning the invalid’s condition. In these letters is to be detected, and in each one more than the last, a growing feeling of friendship and sympathy.
The individual who corresponds thus with Evgenie Pav-
lovitch, and who engages so much of his attention and respect, is Vera Lebedeff. We have never been able to dis-cover clearly how such relations sprang up. Of course the root of them was in the events which we have already re-corded, and which so filled Vera with grief on the prince’s account that she fell seriously ill. But exactly how the ac-quaintance and friendship came about, we cannot say.
We have spoken of these letters chiefly because in them is often to be found some news of the Epanchin family, and of Aglaya in particular. Evgenie Pavlovitch wrote of her from Paris, that after a short and sudden attachment to a certain Polish count, an exile, she had suddenly married him, quite against the wishes of her parents, though they had eventu-ally given their consent through fear of a terrible scandal. Then, after a six months’ silence, Evgenie Pavlovitch in-formed his correspondent, in a long letter, full of detail, that while paying his last visit to Dr. Schneider’s establishment, he had there come across the whole Epanchin family (ex-cepting the general, who had remained in St. Petersburg) and Prince S. The meeting was a strange one. They all re-ceived Evgenie Pavlovitch with effusive delight; Adelaida and Alexandra were deeply grateful to him for his ‘angelic kindness to the unhappy prince.’
Lizabetha Prokofievna, when she saw poor Muishkin, in his enfeebled and humiliated condition, had wept bitterly. Apparently all was forgiven him.
Prince S. had made a few just and sensible remarks. It seemed to Evgenie Pavlovitch that there was not yet perfect harmony between Adelaida and her fiance, but he thought
that in time the impulsive young girl would let herself be guided by his reason and experience. Besides, the recent events that had befallen her family had given Adelaida much to think about, especially the sad experiences of her younger sister. Within six months, everything that the fam-ily had dreaded from the marriage with the Polish count had come to pass. He turned out to be neither count nor ex-ile—at least, in the political sense of the word—but had had to leave his native land owing to some rather dubious affair of the past. It was his noble patriotism, of which he made a great display, that had rendered him so interesting in Aglaya’s eyes. She was so fascinated that, even before mar-rying him, she joined a committee that had been organized abroad to work for the restoration of Poland; and further, she visited the confessional of a celebrated Jesuit priest, who made an absolute fanatic of her. The supposed fortune of the count had dwindled to a mere nothing, although he had given almost irrefutable evidence of its existence to Liza-betha Prokofievna and Prince S.
Besides this, before they had been married half a year, the count and his friend the priest managed to bring about a quarrel between Aglaya and her family, so that it was now several months since they had seen her. In a word, there was a great deal to say; but Mrs. Epanchin, and her daughters, and even Prince S., were still so much distressed by Aglaya’s latest infatuations and adventures, that they did hot care to talk of them, though they must have known that Evgenie knew much of the story already.
Poor Lizabetha Prokofievna was most anxious to get
home, and, according to Evgenie’s account, she criticized everything foreign with much hostility.
‘They can’t bake bread anywhere, decently; and they all freeze in their houses, during winter, like a lot of mice in a cellar. At all events, I’ve had a good Russian cry over this poor fellow,’ she added, pointing to the prince, who had not recognized her in the slightest degree. ‘So enough of this nonsense; it’s time we faced the truth. All this continental life, all this Europe of yours, and all the trash about ‘go-ing abroad’ is simply foolery, and it is mere foolery on our part to come. Remember what I say, my friend; you’ll live to agree with me yourself.’
So spoke the good lady, almost angrily, as she took leave of Evgenie Pavlovitch.
