quite understood their own value. The eldest was musical, while the second was a clever artist, which fact she had con-cealed until lately. In a word, the world spoke well of the girls; but they were not without their enemies, and occa-sionally people talked with horror of the number of books they had read.
They were in no hurry to marry. They liked good soci-ety, but were not too keen about it. All this was the more remarkable, because everyone was well aware of the hopes and aims of their parents.
It was about eleven o’clock in the forenoon when the prince rang the bell at General Epanchin’s door. The gen-eral lived on the first floor or flat of the house, as modest a lodging as his position permitted. A liveried servant opened the door, and the prince was obliged to enter into long ex-planations with this gentleman, who, from the first glance, looked at him and his bundle with grave suspicion. At last, however, on the repeated positive assurance that he really was Prince Muishkin, and must absolutely see the general on business, the bewildered domestic showed him into a little ante-chamber leading to a waiting-room that adjoined the general’s study, there handing him over to another ser-vant, whose duty it was to be in this ante-chamber all the morning, and announce visitors to the general. This sec-ond individual wore a dress coat, and was some forty years of age; he was the general’s special study servant, and well aware of his own importance.
‘Wait in the next room, please; and leave your bundle here,’ said the door-keeper, as he sat down comfortably in
his own easy-chair in the ante-chamber. He looked at the prince in severe surprise as the latter settled himself in an-other chair alongside, with his bundle on his knees.
‘If you don’t mind, I would rather sit here with you,’ said the prince; ‘I should prefer it to sitting in there.’
‘Oh, but you can’t stay here. You are a visitor—a guest, so to speak. Is it the general himself you wish to see?’
The man evidently could not take in the idea of such a shabbylooking visitor, and had decided to ask once more.
‘Yes—I have business—‘ began the prince.
‘I do not ask you what your business may be, all I have to do is to announce you; and unless the secretary comes in here I cannot do that.’
The man’s suspicions seemed to increase more and more. The prince was too unlike the usual run of daily visitors; and although the general certainly did receive, on business, all sorts and conditions of men, yet in spite of this fact the servant felt great doubts on the subject of this particular visitor. The presence of the secretary as an intermediary was, he judged, essential in this case.
‘Surely you—are from abroad?’ he inquired at last, in a confused sort of way. He had begun his sentence intending to say, ‘Surely you are not Prince Muishkin, are you?’
‘Yes, straight from the train! Did not you intend to say, ‘Surely you are not Prince Muishkin?’ just now, but re-
frained out of politeness ?’
‘H’m!’ grunted the astonished servant.
‘I assure you I am not deceiving you; you shall not have to answer for me. As to my being dressed like this, and car-
rying a bundle, there’s nothing surprising in that—the fact is, my circumstances are not particularly rosy at this mo-ment.’
‘H’m!—no, I’m not afraid of that, you see; I have to an-nounce you, that’s all. The secretary will be out directly-that is, unless you—yes, that’s the rub—unless you—come, you must allow me to ask you—you’ve not come to beg, have you?’
‘Oh dear no, you can be perfectly easy on that score. I have quite another matter on hand.’
‘You must excuse my asking, you know. Your appearance led me to think—but just wait for the secretary; the general is busy now, but the secretary is sure to come out.’
‘Oh—well, look here, if I have some time to wait, would you mind telling me, is there any place about where I could have a smoke? I have my pipe and tobacco with me.’
‘SMOKE?’ said the man, in shocked but disdainful sur-prise, blinking his eyes at the prince as though he could not believe his senses.’ No, sir, you cannot smoke here, and I wonder you are not ashamed of the very suggestion. Ha, ha! a cool idea that, I declare!’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean in this room! I know I can’t smoke here, of course. I’d adjourn to some other room, wherever you like to show me to. You see, I’m used to smoking a good deal, and now I haven’t had a puff for three hours; however, just as you like.’
‘Now how on earth am I to announce a man like that?’ muttered the servant. ‘In the first place, you’ve no right in here at all; you ought to be in the waiting-room, because
you’re a sort of visitor—a guest, in fact—and I shall catch it for this. Look here, do you intend to take up you abode with us?’ he added, glancing once more at the prince’s bundle, which evidently gave him no peace.
‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t think I should stay even if they were to invite me. I’ve simply come to make their ac-quaintance, and nothing more.’
‘Make their acquaintance?’ asked the man, in amaze-ment, and with redoubled suspicion. ‘Then why did you say you had business with the general?’
‘Oh well, very little business. There is one little matter— some advice I am going to ask him for; but my principal object is simply to introduce myself, because I am Prince Muishkin, and Madame Epanchin is the last of her branch of the house, and besides herself and me there are no other Muishkins left.’
‘What—you’re a relation then, are you?’ asked the ser-vant, so bewildered that he began to feel quite alarmed.
‘Well, hardly so. If you stretch a point, we are relations, of course, but so distant that one cannot really take cog-nizance of it. I once wrote to your mistress from abroad, but she did not reply. However, I have thought it right to make acquaintance with her on my arrival. I am telling you all this in order to ease your mind, for I see you are still far from comfortable on my account. All you have to do is to announce me as Prince Muishkin, and the object of my visit will be plain enough. If I am received—very good; if not, well, very good again. But they are sure to receive me, I should think; Madame Epanchin will naturally be curious
to see the only remaining representative of her family. She values her Muishkin descent very highly, if I am rightly in-formed.’
The prince’s conversation was artless and confiding to a degree, and the servant could not help feeling that as from visitor to common serving-man this state of things was highly improper. His conclusion was that one of two things must be the explanation— either that this was a begging impostor, or that the prince, if prince he were, was simply a fool, without the slightest ambition; for a sensible prince with any ambition would certainly not wait about in ante-rooms with servants, and talk of his own private affairs like this. In either case, how was he to announce this singular visitor?
‘I really think I must request you to step into the next room!’ he said, with all the insistence he could muster.
‘Why? If I had been sitting there now, I should not have had the opportunity of making these personal explanations. I see you are still uneasy about me and keep eyeing my cloak and bundle. Don’t you think you might go in yourself now, without waiting for the secretary to come out?’
‘No, no! I can’t announce a visitor like yourself with-out the secretary. Besides the general said he was not to be disturbed— he is with the Colonel C—. Gavrila Ardaliono-vitch goes in without announcing.’
‘Who may that be? a clerk?’
‘What? Gavrila Ardalionovitch? Oh no; he belongs to one of the companies. Look here, at all events put your bundle down, here.’
‘Yes, I will if I may; and—can I take off my cloak”
‘Of course; you can’t go in THERE with it on, anyhow.’ The prince rose and took off his mantle, revealing a neat
enough morning costume—a little worn, but well made. He wore a steel watch chain and from this chain there hung a silver Geneva watch. Fool the prince might be, still, the gen-eral’s servant felt that it was not correct for him to continue to converse thus with a visitor, in spite of the fact that the prince pleased him somehow.
‘And what time of day does the lady receive?’ the latter asked, reseating himself in his old place.
‘Oh, that’s not in my province! I believe she receives at any time; it depends upon the visitors. The dressmaker goes in at eleven. Gavrila Ardalionovitch is allowed much earlier than other people, too; he is even admitted to early lunch now and then.’
‘It is much warmer in the rooms here than it is abroad at this season,’ observed the prince; ‘ but it is much warmer there out of doors. As for the houses—a Russian can’t live in them in the winter until he gets accustomed to them.’
‘Don’t they heat them at all?’
‘Well, they do heat them
