Mimotchka expects it herself. She still dreams of love and of Maurice, but, all the same, she knows that the chief thing is—money: that without a carriage, without becoming surroundings, and without toilettes, she would not care about love.
Mimotchka knows that she is une demoiselle à marier, but she also knows that she is still young, that she is quite a "child," and as she is "a child" she waltzes, smiles, and plays with her fan and her innocent eyes.
... How artful young men are nowadays! How difficult it is to bring them to the point! Oh, if only Maurice had been amongst them, he would have prized Mimotchka; he would have chosen her without looking into poor papa's purse. But only try and find such a young man!
And meanwhile time flies.... The poor girl is already obliged to take quinine and iron. These intoxicating balls, these sleepless nights—all this tires her out.
And so, reader, imagine the moment when Mimotchka, her first freshness past, begins to get thin and lose her beauty; the doctor, a friend of the family, who is tired of prescribing arsenic, iron, and pepsine gratis, orders the young lady to some foreign watering-place; there is no money to be got anywhere; the dress-makers refuse to make even the simplest travelling dress on credit.... Then imagine how it would be if, at such a moment, unpleasant in itself, some catastrophe were to happen: supposing one of the parents were to fall dangerously ill, or the father be dismissed in disgrace from the service in consequence of the discovery of some unlawful transactions; or supposing he were to die, leaving his family a small pension and unpaid debts.... It matters little what it is exactly that happens.... But there is nothing to guarantee that such things will not happen.
In our Mimotchka's life the catastrophe was her poor papa's death. He died, leaving his wife a pension and debts, the sum of which had latterly considerably increased on account of the expenses of the trousseau. Mamma simply did not know what to do with the creditors, who seemed to creep out of every crevice. The faithless fiancé had broken off the marriage, and, having bought Mimotchka's furniture for a mere song, had relapsed into complete silence. Indirectly, a little later on, mamma heard a rumour that he was going to marry the daughter of the Governor of N——.
The position of the poor women was in all respects terrible. There was literally not a copeck in the house. Mamma tore her hair and anathematised the faithless, good-for-nothing bridegroom. The aunts comforted and condoled with her, but among themselves they could not help rather blaming poor mamma.
"Of course Annette's position is awful," said Aunt Mary, "but one can't but say that she herself is to blame. What was the use of ordering such a trousseau when they were already so badly off? There is nothing to eat in the house, and Mimotchka has linen like a princess! And into whose eyes did they expect to throw dust by it?"
"Yes, of course, they themselves are to blame," agreed Aunt Sophy, "but, all the same, I am sorry for poor Mimotchka. She has been so spoilt; and who knows what yet awaits her in the future! It may end by her having to go out as a governess."
"I gave them a hundred roubles to-day," said Aunt Julia, in conclusion, "but I can't give every day. If I were only to count up all I have already given ..."