azinov, however, and abused him terribly. He set
to work vigorously to prepare for the reading too and--the artistic
temperament!--rehearsed before the looking-glass and went over all the
jokes and witticisms uttered in the course of his life which he had
written down in a separate notebook, to insert into his reading next
day.

"My dear, I do this for the sake of a great idea," he said to me,
obviously justifying himself. "_Cher ami,_ I have been stationary for
twenty-five years and suddenly I've begun to move--whither, I know
not--but I've begun to move...."

PART III

CHAPTER I. THE FETE--FIRST PART

The fete took place in spite of all the perplexities of the preceding
"Shpigulin" day. I believe that even if Lembke had died the previous
night, the fete would still have taken place next morning--so peculiar
was the significance Yulia Mihailovna attached to it. Alas! up to the
last moment she was blind and had no inkling of the state of public
feeling. No one believed at last that the festive day would pass without
some tremendous scandal, some "catastrophe" as some people expressed it,
rubbing their hands in anticipation. Many people, it is true, tried to
assume a frowning and diplomatic countenance; but, speaking generally,
every Russian is inordinately delighted at any public scandal and
disorder. It is true that we did feel something much more serious
than the mere craving for a scandal: there was a general feeling
of irritation, a feeling of implacable resentment; every one seemed
thoroughly disgusted with everything. A kind of bewildered cynicism, a
forced, as it were, strained cynicism was predominant in every one. The
only people who were free from bewilderment were the ladies, and they
were clear on only one point: their remorseless detestation of Yulia
Mihailovna. Ladies of all shades of opinion were agreed in this. And
she, poor dear, had no suspicion; up to the last hour she was persuaded
that she was "surrounded by followers," and that they were still
"fanatically devoted to her."

I have already hinted that some low fellows of different sorts had
made their appearance amongst us. In turbulent times of upheaval or
transition low characters always come to the front everywhere. I am
not speaking now of the so-called "advanced" people who are always in a
hurry to be in advance of every one else (their absorbing anxiety) and
who always have some more or less definite, though often very stup