Porfiry Vladimirych looked at her with questioning eyes, and an almost imperceptible smile stole over his lips.
"So that is where your acting has brought you?"
"Yes, that is where my acting has brought me.
Lubinka is dead and I—I am alive,"
At the news of Lubinka's death Yudushka piously crossed himself and whispered a prayer.
Anninka seated herself at table, her chin in her hands, looking toward the church and continuing to cry bitterly.
"See here, as for weeping and being in despair, it is surely a sin," remarked Porfiry Vladimirych sententiously. "And do you know what a Christian must do on such an occasion? Not cry, but submit and hope—that's how a Christian has to act."
But Anninka threw herself back on the chair and repeated, her arms drooping helplessly:
"Ah, I do not know, I do not know, I do not know!"
"If you are crying your eyes out on account of your sister," Yudushka continued to sermonize, "that is a sin, too. For although it is praiseworthy to love one's sisters and brothers, yet, if it be the will of God to take one or several of them to Himself——"
"Oh, no, no! Uncle, are you kind? Are you kind? Tell me!"
Anninka threw herself on him again and embraced him.
"Well, I am kind, kind. Tell me, do you wish anything? Will you have a bite, or tea, or coffee? Ask for what you want. Order it."
Anninka suddenly remembered how during her first visit her uncle used to ask her,
"Will you have beef, pork, potatoes?" And she realized that she would find no other consolation.
"Thank you, uncle," she said, seating herself at the table again. "I do not want anything in particular.
I am sure I shall be contented with anything you offer me."
"If so, well and good. Will you go to Pogorelka?"
"No, uncle, for the time being I shall stay with you.
You have nothing against it, have you?"
"Christ be with you, of course I don't object.
I asked about Pogorelka only because in case you do wish to go there, it would be necessary to arrange for a wagon and horses."
"No, later, later."
"Very well, then.
You will go there later on. Meanwhile you can stay with us.
You will help about the house, for I'm all alone, you see.
This queen," said Yudushka, almost in hatred, pointing to Yevpraksia pouring the tea, "is all the time running about in the servants' quarters, so that sometimes you can never get any service, not a soul in the whole house.
Well, good-by for the present.
I shall go to my room.
I shall pray, do some work and pray again. So, my friend.
Is it long since Lubinka died?"
"About a month, uncle."
"Then tomorrow we shall go to church early and order a mass to be read for God's recently deceased servant Lubinka. So good-by for the present.
Have some tea, and if you want a bit of luncheon, have the servant bring it to you.
At dinner we shall meet again, have a talk, a chat. And if anything has to be done, we shall attend to it, if not—not."
Such was the first family meeting.
When it was over, Anninka entered upon her new life in that disgusting Golovliovo, where she was stranded for the second time in her short life.
_____ CHAPTER II
Anninka had gone downhill very fast.
It was true that her first visit to Golovliovo had aroused the consciousness of being a "lady," of having her own nest and her own graves, of not being confined in her life to the squalor and uproar of hotels and inns, and of having a shelter where she would be safe from vile breaths infected with the odor of wine and the stable, from hoarse voices, bloodshot eyes, indecent gestures. But alas! No sooner did Golovliovo disappear from sight than this purifying consciousness vanished from her mind.
Anninka had gone from Golovliovo straight to Moscow, and solicited a position on the government stage both for herself and her sister.
With this in view she turned for aid to maman, that is, the directress of the boarding-school where she had been educated, and to several of her classmates.
Maman was at first quite kind to her, but as soon as she discovered that her former pupil had acted on the provincial stage, her pleasant manner changed to one of haughtiness and sternness. As for Anninka's classmates, who were mostly married women, they eyed her with an impertinent astonishment that quite frightened her.
Only one of them, better-natured than the rest, asked her, evidently wishing to show sympathy:
"Tell me, darling, is it true that when you actresses dress for the stage, officers lace your corsets?"
In a word, her attempts to gain a foothold in Moscow remained unsuccessful.
The truth of the matter was, she did not possess the necessary qualifications for theatrical success in the capital.
She and her sister Lubinka belonged to that class of lively, but not very talented actresses who play one part all their lives.
Anninka had made a hit in Pericola, Lubinka in Pansies and Old-time Colonels, and whatever new roles they studied strangely resembled their successful parts, or, in the majority of cases, were a complete failure.
Anninka often had to play Fair Helen also. She would wear a flaming red wig over her ash-colored hair, and cut her tunic down to her waist line, but she was mediocre and dull, not even cynical.