"Valentin Katayev. The Cottage in the Steppe (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

opened the door and nearly swooned. The liveried footman stood before her
with his three-cornered purled hat pressed to his breast.
"Mr. Faig presents his respects to the Bachei family," the footman
said, "and asks to be received."
The Bachei family, who had rushed into the hall, stood there
dumbfounded. Auntie was the only one who had kept a level head. She gave
Vasily Petrovich a meaning look, turned to the footman, and with a polite
smile and in an offhand manner said, "Please ask him up."
The footman bowed and went downstairs, sweeping the stairway with the
long tails of his livery coat.
No sooner had Vasily Petrovich fastened his collar, adjusted his tie,
and got his arms through the sleeves of his good frock-coat, than Mr. Faig
entered. He carried his top hat, his gloves tossed into it, stiffly in one
hand and in the other, which sparkled with the diamonds, he held a cigar. A
democratic smile lit up his face between the black side whiskers. He spread
the aroma of Havana cigar smoke mixed with the scent of Atkinson's perfume.
A battery of badges, medals, and fraternity-pins followed the cut of his
frock-coat. Tiny pearls glowed gently in the buttonholes of his
magnificently starched white shirt-front.
This man, the personification of success and wealth, had suddenly paid
them a call! Faig put his top hat on the hall table and extended his plump
hand to Father in the grand manner. That was all Petya saw, for Auntie
manoeuvred him and Pavlik into the kitchen and kept them there until Mr.
Faig departed.
Judging by the fact that Faig's loud and merry laughter and Father's
chuckle were heard several times, the visit was a friendly one. But what
could be the reason for it? The explanation was forthcoming when Faig, after
being helped into the carriage by the footman and having the Scotch plaid
tucked round his legs, waved his white hand with the cigar and drove off. He
had come to Vasily Petrovich with the offer of a teaching appointment in his
establishment.
It had all been so unexpected and so much like a miracle, that Vasily
Petrovich turned to the icon and crossed himself. Teaching in Faig's school
was much more remunerative than in the gymnasium, because Faig paid his
teachers almost double the salary paid by the government. Vasily Petrovich
was captivated by Faig's matter-of-fact way, his cordiality and democratic
manners which contrasted so pleasantly and unexpectedly with his appearance
and his way of life.
In conversation with Vasily Petrovich, Faig displayed a keen
understanding of contemporary affairs. He was biting and yet restrained when
criticizing the Ministry of Education for its inability to appreciate its
best teachers; he fiercely resented the government's attempts to turn the
schools into military barracks and openly declared that the time had come
for society to take the matter of public education into its own hands and
banish servile officials and petty tyrants such as the head of the Odessa
District Education Department, who had revived the worst traditions of the
Arakcheyev times. He declared that their attitude towards Vasily Petrovich,
in addition to lacking any justification, had been disgusting, and that he
hoped to right the wrong and restore justice, as he considered the matter
his sacred duty to Russian society and science. He hoped that in his