And yet she did not go away.
Whether it was pride or simply she lost her head, I do not know.
In spite of her haughtiness, she attempted with smiles and humiliation to enter into conversation with some ladies, but they were confused, confined themselves to distrustful monosyllables, "Yes" and "No," and evidently avoided her.
The only person of undoubted consequence who was present at the ball was that distinguished general whom I have described already, the one who after Stavrogin's duel with Gaganov opened the door to public impatience at the marshal's wife's.
He walked with an air of dignity through the rooms, looked about, and listened, and tried to appear as though he had come rather for the sake of observation than for the sake of enjoying himself....
He ended by establishing himself beside Yulia Mihailovna and not moving a step away from her, evidently trying to keep up her spirits, and reassure her.
He certainly was a most kind-hearted man, of very high rank, and so old that even compassion from him was not wounding.
But to admit to herself that this old gossip was venturing to pity her and almost to protect her, knowing that he was doing her honour by his presence, was very vexatious.
The general stayed by her and never ceased chattering.
"They say a town can't go on without seven righteous men... seven, I think it is, I am not sure of the number fixed....
I don't know how many of these seven, the certified righteous of the town... have the honour of being present at your ball. Yet in spite of their presence I begin to feel unsafe.
Vous me pardonnez, charmante dame, n'est-ce pas?
I speak allegorically, but I went into the refreshment-room and I am glad I escaped alive.... Our priceless Prohoritch is not in his place there, and I believe his bar will be destroyed before morning.
But I am laughing.
I am only waiting to see what the 'literary quadrille' is going to be like, and then home to bed.
You must excuse a gouty old fellow. I go early to bed, and I would advise you too to go 'by-by,' as they say aux enfants.
I've come, you know, to have a look at the pretty girls... whom, of course, I could meet nowhere in such profusion as here. They all live beyond the river and I don't drive out so far.
There's a wife of an officer... in the chasseurs I believe he is... who is distinctly pretty, distinctly, and... she knows it herself.
I've talked to the sly puss; she is a sprightly one... and the girls too are fresh-looking; but that's all, there's nothing but freshness.
Still, it's a pleasure to look at them.
There are some rosebuds, but their lips are thick.
As a rule there's an irregularity about female beauty in Russia, and... they are a little like buns.... vous me pardonnez, n'est-ce pas?... with good eyes, however, laughing eyes....
These rose buds are charming for two years when they are young... even for three... then they broaden out and are spoilt forever... producing in their husbands that deplorable indifference which does so much to promote the woman movement... that is, if I understand it correctly....
H'm! It's a fine hall; the rooms are not badly decorated.
It might be worse.
The music might be much worse.... I don't say it ought to have been.
What makes a bad impression is that there are so few ladies.
I say nothing about the dresses.
It's bad that that chap in the grey trousers should dare to dance the cancan so openly.
I can forgive him if he does it in the gaiety of his heart, and since he is the local chemist.... Still, eleven o'clock is a bit early even for chemists. There were two fellows fighting in the refreshment-bar and they weren't turned out.
At eleven o'clock people ought to be turned out for fighting, whatever the standard of manners.... Three o'clock is a different matter; then one has to make concessions to public opinion—if only this ball survives till three o'clock.
Varvara Petrovna has not kept her word, though, and hasn't sent flowers.
H'm! She has no thoughts for flowers, pauvre mere!
And poor Liza! Have you heard?
They say it's a mysterious story... and Stavrogin is to the front again....
H'm! I would have gone home to bed... I can hardly keep my eyes open.
But when is this 'literary quadrille' coming on?"
At last the "literary quadrille" began.
Whenever of late there had been conversation in the town on the ball it had invariably turned on this literary quadrille, and as no one could imagine what it would be like, it aroused extraordinary curiosity.
Nothing could be more unfavourable to its chance of success, and great was the disappointment.
The side doors of the White Hall were thrown open and several masked figures appeared.
The public surrounded them eagerly.
All the occupants of the refreshment-bar trooped to the last man into the hall.
The masked figures took their places for the dance.
I succeeded in making my way to the front and installed myself just behind Yulia Mihailovna, Von Lembke, and the general.
At this point Pyotr Stepanovitch, who had kept away till that time, skipped up to Yulia Mihailovna.
"I've been in the refreshment-room all this time, watching," he whispered, with the air of a guilty schoolboy, which he, however, assumed on purpose to irritate her even more.
She turned crimson with anger.
"You might give up trying to deceive me now at least, insolent man!" broke from her almost aloud, so that it was heard by other people.
Pyotr Stepanovitch skipped away extremely well satisfied with himself.