"I wish you wouldn't come to see us all day tomorrow, but come in the evening, when these . . . guests have gathered. You know there will be guests?"
She spoke impatiently and with increased sternness; this was the first time she had spoken of this "evening."
For her, too, the thought of guests was almost unbearable; everyone noticed it.
She might have wanted very much to quarrel with her parents over it, but pride and modesty kept her from speaking.
The prince understood at once that she, too, feared for him (and did not want to admit it), and he suddenly felt afraid himself.
"Yes, I've been invited," he replied.
She was obviously embarrassed to go on.
"Is it possible to speak with you about anything serious?
At least once in your life?" she suddenly became extremely angry, not knowing why herself and not able to restrain herself.
"It's possible, and I'm listening to you; I'm very glad," the prince murmured.
Aglaya paused again for about a minute and began with obvious repugnance:
"I didn't want to argue about it with them; in certain cases they can't be brought to reason.
The rules that maman sometimes goes by have always been repugnant to me.
I'm not speaking of father, there's nothing to be expected from him.
Maman is, of course, a noble woman; dare to suggest something mean to her and you'll see . . .
Well, but before this . . . trash—she stands in awe!
I'm not speaking of this Belokonsky alone: a trashy little hag, and with a trashy character, but she's intelligent and knows how to hold them all in her hand—that, at least, is a good thing about her.
Oh, meanness!
And it's ridiculous: we've always been people of the middle circle, as middle as can be; why climb into that high-society circle?
And my sisters, too: this Prince Shch. has got them all confused.
Why are you glad that Evgeny Pavlych will come?"
"Listen, Aglaya," said the prince, "it seems to me you're very afraid for me, that I'll flunk it tomorrow ... in that company?"
"For you?
Afraid?" Aglaya flared up. "Why should I be afraid for you, even if you . . . even if you disgrace yourself completely?
What is it to me?
And how can you use such words?
What does 'flunk' mean?
It's a trite, trashy word."
"It's a . . . school word."
"Ah, yes, a school word!
A trashy word!
You intend, apparently, to speak in such words tomorrow.
Go home and pick more words like that from your lexicon: what an effect you'll make!
Too bad you seem to know how to make a proper entrance; where did you learn that?
Will you be able to take a cup of tea and drink it decently, while everybody's looking at you on purpose?"
"I think I'll be able to."
"That's too bad; otherwise I'd have had a good laugh.
At least break the Chinese vase in the drawing room!
It's expensive: please break it; it was a gift, mama will lose her mind and cry in front of everybody—it's so precious to her.
Make some gesture, the way you always do, hit it and break it.
Sit next to it on purpose."
"On the contrary, I'll try to sit as far away as possible: thank you for warning me."
"So you're afraid beforehand that you'll make grand gestures.
I bet you'll start discussing some 'topic,' something serious, learned, lofty? That will be . . . proper!"
"I think it would be stupid ... if it's inappropriate."
"Listen once and for all," Aglaya finally could not stand it, "if you start talking about something like capital punishment or the economic situation in Russia, or that 'beauty will save the world'. . . I'll certainly be glad and laugh very much, but . . . I'm warning you ahead of time: don't let me set eyes on you afterwards!
Do you hear? I'm speaking seriously!
This time I'm speaking seriously!"
She actually uttered her threat seriously, so that something extraordinary could even be heard in her words and glimpsed in her eyes, something that the prince had never noticed before and that certainly bore no resemblance to a joke.
"Well, you've made it so that now I'll be sure to 'start talking' and even . . . maybe . . . break the vase as well.