Page 477 - the-idiot

Prokofievna after a while grew calm again. That evening,
of course, she would be unusually attentive, gentle, and re-
spectful to her ‘gross and churlish’ husband, her ‘dear, kind
Ivan Fedorovitch,’ for she had never left off loving him. She
was even still ‘in love’ with him. He knew it well, and for his
part held her in the greatest esteem.
But the mother’s great and continual anxiety was Aglaya.
‘She is exactly like me—my image in everything,’ said Mrs.
Epanchin to herself. ‘A tyrant! A real little demon! A Nihil-
ist! Eccentric, senseless and mischievous! Good Lord, how
unhappy she will be!’
But as we said before, the fact of Adelaida’s approaching
marriage was balm to the mother. For a whole month she
forgot her fears and worries.
Adelaida’s fate was settled; and with her name that of
Aglaya’s was linked, in society gossip. People whispered that
Aglaya, too, was ‘as good as engaged;’ and Aglaya always
looked so sweet and behaved so well (during this period),
that the mother’s heart was full of joy. Of course, Evgenie
Pavlovitch must be thoroughly studied first, before the final
step should be taken; but, really, how lovely dear Aglaya had
become—she actually grew more beautiful every day! And
then—Yes, and then—this abominable prince showed his
face again, and everything went topsy-turvy at once, and
everyone seemed as mad as March hares.
What had really happened?
If it had been any other family than the Epanchins’, noth-
ing particular would have happened. But, thanks to Mrs.
Epanchin’s invariable fussiness and anxiety, there could not

The Idiot