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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fathers and Children, by Ivan Sergeevich
+Turgenev, Translated by Constance Clara Garnett
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Fathers and Children
+
+
+Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev
+
+
+
+Release Date: December 21, 2009  [eBook #30723]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Ron Swanson from page images generously made available
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+      Images of the original pages are available through
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+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+
+
+[Frontispiece: AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE]
+
+
+The Harvard Classics
+Shelf of Fiction
+[From Vol. 19]
+Selected by Charles W. Eliot Ll.D.
+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+
+by
+
+IVAN TURGENEV
+
+Translated by Constance Garnett
+
+Edited with Notes and Introductions by William Allan Neilson Ph.D.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+P. F. Collier & Son
+New York
+
+Published under special arrangement with
+The Macmillan Company
+
+Copyright, 1917
+By P. F. Collier & Son
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
+
+CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS:
+   I. BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGÜÉ
+  II. BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+ III. BY K. WALISZEWSKI
+  IV. BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE
+   V. BY MAURICE BARING
+
+LIST OF CHARACTERS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+
+BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
+
+
+Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility.
+He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a
+hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was
+begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of
+Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St.
+Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the
+compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he
+returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the
+students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the
+Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests
+turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies,
+read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the
+critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable
+temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so,
+when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval
+by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself
+by the profession he had chosen.
+
+Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the
+woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A
+Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The
+first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left
+Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom
+he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained
+relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly
+in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged
+to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences
+were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He
+found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself
+under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A
+Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was
+arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years
+kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by
+the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him
+again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the
+head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates
+were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a
+wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent
+specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome,
+the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the
+stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her
+and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France
+after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near
+Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on
+September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering
+from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg
+and was buried with national honors.
+
+The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are
+characteristic in their concern with social and political questions,
+and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action.
+Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the
+universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian
+character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without
+unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian;
+yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of
+western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means,
+condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he
+surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House
+of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best.
+
+W. A. N.
+
+
+
+
+CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS
+
+
+
+
+I
+BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGÜÉ
+
+
+Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of
+Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward;
+and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few
+modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the
+peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who
+does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not
+stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the
+intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two
+generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of
+respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience
+of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of
+life.
+
+The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His
+intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into
+Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor
+in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish
+something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for
+the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels.
+Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others.
+
+The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the
+brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally
+this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of
+feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full
+of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of
+the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate.
+It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will
+have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the
+condition of his dependents.
+
+The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of
+their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how
+to go to work to accomplish it.
+
+In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has
+little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of
+some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single
+exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or
+grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young
+girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is
+the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of
+country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is
+conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less
+intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an
+irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will.
+
+Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes,
+which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain
+from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!"
+which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of
+works of the imagination.--From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists,"
+translated by J. L. Edmands (1887).
+
+
+
+
+II
+BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+
+
+Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and
+freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame
+in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French
+novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner
+and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic
+punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the
+personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of
+peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable
+always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I
+had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with
+mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American
+horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient,
+agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me
+through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are
+passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn
+from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own
+most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air
+drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on
+the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle
+sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As
+for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and
+civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal
+human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his
+own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch.
+
+I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart
+some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had
+been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly
+content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev
+surpasses the art of Björnson; I think Björnson is quite as fine and
+true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances
+for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has
+to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his
+scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway,
+it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the
+actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many
+times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of
+years I read them again and again without much caring for other
+fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once
+more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less
+than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had
+reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was
+impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now
+aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always
+present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.--From "My Literary
+Passions" (1895).
+
+
+
+
+III
+BY K. WALISZEWSKI
+
+
+The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a
+storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to
+understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"--thus baptized
+by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success--is
+merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had
+been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The
+epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiéjdine
+applied it to Pushkin, Polevoï, and some other subverters of the
+classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new
+interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of
+"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in
+Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to
+look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a
+figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being.
+Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest
+way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of
+insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his
+model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the
+Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his
+first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he
+is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the
+character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin,
+at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no
+educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max
+Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke
+and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual
+_Ego_. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were
+destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest
+symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev.
+
+Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in
+word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know
+what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and
+indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal
+tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of
+fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the
+first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more
+general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so
+general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev--he
+has admitted it himself--felt as if he were drawing his own portrait;
+and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so
+sympathetic.--From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900).
+
+
+
+
+IV
+BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE
+
+
+But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn
+to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and
+Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem--Has
+personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this
+figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike
+weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other
+philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion,
+and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing
+himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is
+a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but
+himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions
+of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our
+power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing
+intellect--he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of
+gigantic will--he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a
+man of intense life--he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of
+death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of
+determination against fate, of personality against impersonality.
+Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury
+by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the
+creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm,
+aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all
+the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to
+play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the
+most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others
+linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest
+of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the
+self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding
+his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding
+his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further
+examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived
+character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic
+moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that
+capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of
+life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of
+theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear
+an inward soliloquy.--From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The
+Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910).
+
+
+
+
+V
+BY MAURICE BARING
+
+
+Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English
+literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all
+Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise.
+Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a
+master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production
+since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered
+Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness
+of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first
+time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to
+paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian
+soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for
+the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed
+of praise than he was perhaps entitled to.
+
+In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's
+Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but
+universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece
+"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary
+elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a
+libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers
+and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody.
+He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia
+to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian
+criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so
+terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did
+not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and
+an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political
+struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a
+Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either
+the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in
+England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated
+opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion
+against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture
+of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far
+as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr.
+Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from
+which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on
+increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that
+was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste....
+
+"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of
+Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a
+touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word;
+the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all
+the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov
+stands out like Lucifer, the strongest--the only strong character--that
+Turgenev created, the first Nihilist--for if Turgenev was not the first
+to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense.
+
+Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and
+again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek,
+humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an
+anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man
+who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions,
+knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to
+nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is
+the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and
+
+  "not cowardly puts off his helmet,"
+
+and he dies "valiantly vanquished."
+
+In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water
+mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly
+pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than
+the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English
+novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong,
+piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more
+reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets,
+of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as
+has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The
+revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries
+a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as
+Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the
+type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists
+of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the
+fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....--From "An Outline
+of Russian Literature" (1914).
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF CHARACTERS
+
+
+NIKOLAI PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, a landowner.
+
+PAVEL PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, his brother.
+
+ARKADY (ARKASHA) NIKOLAEVITCH (_or_ NIKOLAITCH), his son.
+
+YEVGENY (ENYUSHA) VASSILYEVITCH (_or_ VASSILYITCH) BAZAROV, friend of
+Arkady.
+
+VASSILY IVANOVITCH (_or_ IVANITCH), father of Bazarov.
+
+ARINA VLASYEVNA, mother of Bazarov.
+
+FEDOSYA (FENITCHKA) NIKOLAEVNA, second wife of Nikolai.
+
+ANNA SERGYEVNA ODINTSOV, a wealthy widow.
+
+KATYA SERGYEVNA, her sister.
+
+PORFIRY PLATONITCH, her neighbor.
+
+MATVY ILYITCH KOLYAZIN, government commissioner.
+
+EVDOKSYA (_or_ AVDOTYA) NIKITISHNA KUKSHIN, an emancipated lady.
+
+VIKTOR SITNIKOV, a would-be liberal.
+
+PIOTR (_pron. P-yotr_), servant to Nikolai.
+
+PROKOFITCH, head servant to Nikolai.
+
+DUNYASHA, a maid servant.
+
+MITYA, infant of Fedosya.
+
+TIMOFEITCH, manager for Vassily.
+
+
+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+A NOVEL
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the
+20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and
+checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of
+the posting station at S----. He was addressing his servant, a chubby
+young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre
+eyes.
+
+The servant, in whom everything--the turquoise ring in his ear, the
+streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his
+movements--indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced
+with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer:
+
+'No, sir; not in sight.'
+
+'Not in sight?' repeated his master.
+
+'No, sir,' responded the man a second time.
+
+His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce
+him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing
+thoughtfully round.
+
+His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the
+posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he
+expressed it--since he had arranged the division of his land with the
+peasants, and started 'a farm'--of nearly five thousand acres. His
+father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse,
+half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in
+harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a
+division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of
+his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was
+born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more
+hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by
+cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual
+regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a
+girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna
+Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of
+the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling
+silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she
+talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in
+the morning, and gave them her blessing at night--in fact, she got
+everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's
+son--though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even
+deserved to be called 'a funk'--was intended, like his brother Pavel,
+to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news
+of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a
+slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad
+job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg
+directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother
+happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The
+young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote
+supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an
+official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his
+wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper,
+scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets
+stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr
+Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the
+university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put
+on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to
+Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the
+Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died
+suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed
+him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she
+was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment.
+Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and
+to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter
+of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and,
+as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles
+in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the
+term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his
+father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with
+his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute,
+afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a
+draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled
+finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The
+young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever
+apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano;
+she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes
+went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and
+grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream.
+In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a
+few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if
+possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He
+returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged
+period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the
+management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university;
+he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out
+anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young
+companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we
+have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather
+bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he
+had taken it himself.
+
+The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious
+to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking
+a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the
+crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him,
+treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an
+unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was
+scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an
+odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son
+... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came
+round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else,
+and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife....
+'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue
+pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near
+the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had
+already caught the sound of approaching wheels.
+
+'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in
+from the gateway.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage
+appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage
+he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar
+outline of a dear face.
+
+'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A
+few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty,
+sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from
+travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to
+his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.'
+
+'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling
+tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own
+greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look
+at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with
+hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this
+way; and horses at once.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a
+little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him.
+
+'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov,
+about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to
+promise to stay with us.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a
+long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the
+carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did
+not at once hold out to him.
+
+'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind
+intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and
+turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch
+his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose
+flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and
+drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil
+smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence.
+
+'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,'
+continued Nikolai Petrovitch.
+
+Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply,
+but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the
+prominent bumps on his head.
+
+'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son,
+'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?'
+
+'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.'
+
+'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get
+things ready, my good boy; look sharp.'
+
+Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's
+hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the
+gateway.
+
+'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your
+coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some
+water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the
+station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver,
+who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the
+carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ...
+
+'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must
+not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so
+simple--you will see.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round.
+
+'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver.
+
+'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his
+hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what
+the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.'
+
+Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated
+shaft-horse.
+
+'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch;
+'there'll be something to drink our health with!'
+
+In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were
+installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov
+jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather
+cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said
+Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the
+knee. 'At last!'
+
+'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the
+genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as
+possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace
+channel.
+
+'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for
+some reason or other he gave up the idea.'
+
+'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady.
+
+'Oh, about five hours.'
+
+'Dear old dad!'
+
+Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss
+on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle.
+
+'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And
+your room has been fresh papered.'
+
+'And is there a room for Bazarov?'
+
+'We will find one for him too.'
+
+'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his
+friendship.'
+
+'Have you made friends with him lately?'
+
+'Yes, quite lately.'
+
+'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he
+study?'
+
+'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next
+year he wants to take his doctor's degree.'
+
+'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he
+was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand,
+'aren't those our peasants driving along?'
+
+Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with
+unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each
+cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned.
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr.
+
+'Where are they going,--to the town?'
+
+'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously,
+turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to
+him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old
+stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation.
+
+'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued
+Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent.
+What is one to do?'
+
+'But do you like your hired labourers?'
+
+'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set
+against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They
+spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When
+things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an
+interest in farming now?'
+
+'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering
+the last question.
+
+'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,'
+observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open
+air.'
+
+'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all
+nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy
+there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And
+the sky too.'
+
+Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and
+said no more.
+
+'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so
+everything is bound to strike you in a special----'
+
+'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.'
+
+'Still----'
+
+'No; it makes absolutely no difference.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage
+went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed
+between them.
+
+'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch,
+'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.'
+
+'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?'
+
+'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't
+find many changes at Maryino.'
+
+'Have you still the same bailiff?'
+
+'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about
+me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to
+intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced
+towards Piotr.) '_Il est libre, en effet_,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch
+in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a
+bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred
+and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his
+forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication
+with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would
+not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my
+duty to prepare you, though....'
+
+He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French.
+
+'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the
+first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have
+always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son.
+Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In
+short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard
+already ...'
+
+'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please....
+Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house
+... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.'
+
+'Goodness, daddy, what for?'
+
+'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...'
+
+'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.'
+
+'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so
+horrid--that's the worst of it.'
+
+'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I
+wonder you're not ashamed.'
+
+'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch,
+flushing more and more.
+
+'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately.
+'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart
+was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind,
+soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please,
+stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a
+consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand
+with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in
+his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it.
+
+'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence.
+
+'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.'
+
+'Why did you sell it?'
+
+'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.'
+
+'Who don't pay you their rent?'
+
+'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.'
+
+'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look
+about him.
+
+The country through which they were driving could not be called
+picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very
+horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some
+places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low,
+scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the
+old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little
+streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and
+little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down
+roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping
+doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some
+brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with
+crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart
+sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in
+tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks
+stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along
+the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger,
+were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as
+though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of
+some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved
+beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white
+phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts,
+and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it
+does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on
+like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry
+them out, how is one to begin?'
+
+Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the
+spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all--trees,
+bushes, grass--shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft
+breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling
+music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the
+low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the
+rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out
+black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already
+whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its
+grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly
+fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his
+father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him
+another hug.
+
+'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to
+get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on
+together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate,
+if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now,
+and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!'
+
+'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!'
+
+'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness.
+Though I agree with Pushkin--do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin--
+
+  'To me how sad thy coming is,
+   Spring, spring, sweet time of love!
+   What ...'
+
+'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've
+nothing to light my pipe with.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to
+him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a
+silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr.
+
+'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again.
+
+'Thanks,' answered Arkady.
+
+Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a
+thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing
+about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that
+Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was
+forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of
+wounding his son.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps
+of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was
+Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it,
+Poverty Farm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen;
+a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her
+there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a
+coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel
+Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the
+carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch
+with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall,
+from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's
+face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style.
+
+'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and
+shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper
+and rest.'
+
+'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching,
+and he dropped on to a sofa.
+
+'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch
+with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right
+moment comes Prokofitch.'
+
+A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a
+cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink
+neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to
+the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him.
+
+'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to
+us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?'
+
+'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he
+quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he
+said impressively.
+
+'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch?'
+
+'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box
+to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his
+frieze overcoat.
+
+'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with
+an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and
+holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady,
+are you going to your room for a minute?'
+
+'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the
+door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of
+medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low
+cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about
+forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like
+new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally
+regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate
+chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his
+clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle,
+with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth
+and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most
+part is lost after the twenties are past.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with
+its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite
+from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal,
+and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the
+European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is
+to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches,
+and said, 'Welcome.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted
+him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile,
+but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket.
+
+'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a
+musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he
+showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.'
+
+'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as
+hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back
+directly.'
+
+'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly
+from the sofa. Both the young men went out.
+
+'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.'
+
+'Is he going to stay with us?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That unkempt creature?'
+
+'Why, yes.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy
+Arkady _s'est dégourdi_,' he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.'
+
+At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said
+nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various
+incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the
+impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the
+necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly
+up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at
+a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather
+exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from
+Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that
+awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to
+be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to
+regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite
+unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes
+replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his
+teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far
+more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did
+not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they
+all separated at once.
+
+'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his
+dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such
+style in the country! His nails, his nails--you ought to send them to
+an exhibition!'
+
+'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell
+in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was
+very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.'
+
+'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a
+pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at
+his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved
+simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?'
+
+'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.'
+
+'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his
+time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a
+good-hearted fellow.'
+
+'My father's a man in a thousand.'
+
+'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?'
+
+Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous.
+
+'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists,
+they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance
+is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but
+the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged--an English
+washstand stands for progress!'
+
+Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady.
+Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed,
+under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands,
+those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and
+sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no
+prayer.
+
+Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were
+awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He
+lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped
+on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long
+after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace,
+on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch
+was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid
+shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of _Galignani_,
+but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish
+flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where
+his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past
+only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is
+not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small
+back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing
+jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She
+was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the
+open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular
+breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of
+the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place
+isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land
+with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four
+acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices,
+and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells;
+but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected
+in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of
+lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and
+dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little
+paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable,
+routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set
+off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for
+frogs.
+
+'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him.
+
+'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special
+faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he
+never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall
+cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as
+you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I
+shall know what's going on inside us too.'
+
+'And what do you want to know that for?'
+
+'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure
+you.'
+
+'Are you a doctor then?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as
+frogs, that's funny!'
+
+'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as
+white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up
+collar.
+
+'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?'
+
+'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov.
+
+Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see
+Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the
+terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the
+table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling.
+A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at
+the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she
+said--
+
+'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders
+to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she
+send Dunyasha?'
+
+'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch
+hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with
+lemon?'
+
+'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered
+interrogatively, 'Daddy?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son.
+
+'Well?' he said.
+
+Arkady dropped his eyes.
+
+'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began,
+'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open
+... you will not be angry ...?'
+
+'Go on.'
+
+'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't
+the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away.
+
+'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.'
+
+Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father.
+
+'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my
+views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly,
+could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing?
+Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed
+her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in
+any case, a son cannot judge his father,--least of all, I, and least of
+all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in
+anything.'
+
+Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself
+magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering
+something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of
+one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought
+out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis.
+
+'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers
+again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are
+just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a
+frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but
+you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your
+presence, especially the first day of your return.'
+
+'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of
+magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to
+her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch too got up.
+
+'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not
+told you yet ...'
+
+But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai
+Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by
+confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the
+inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son?
+Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect
+if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself
+for weakness?--it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him,
+but in the state of sensations--and vague sensations--while the flush
+did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed.
+
+There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the
+terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a
+kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya
+Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little
+later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed
+him last night, as I have kissed him just now.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and
+open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck.
+
+'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch
+behind them.
+
+Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant;
+there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to
+escape as soon as possible.
+
+'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily.
+'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to
+get a good look at him since yesterday.'
+
+'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not
+indisposed to be embracing him myself.'
+
+Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his
+perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an
+elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his
+head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a
+suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his
+shirt--not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning
+dress--stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin.
+
+'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady.
+
+'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off
+somewhere. The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he
+doesn't like ceremony.'
+
+'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading
+butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?'
+
+'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.'
+
+'And where does his father live?'
+
+'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property
+there. He was formerly an army doctor.'
+
+'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard
+that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division
+there was a surgeon Bazarov?'
+
+'I believe there was.'
+
+'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel
+Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov
+himself?' he asked, deliberately.
+
+'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell
+you what he really is?'
+
+'If you will be so good, nephew.'
+
+'He's a nihilist.'
+
+'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a
+knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained
+motionless.
+
+'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady.
+
+'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, _nihil_,
+_nothing_, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who
+accepts nothing?'
+
+'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to
+work on the butter again.
+
+'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed
+Arkady.
+
+'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down
+before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith,
+whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.'
+
+'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people
+will suffer for it.'
+
+'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people;
+we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's
+no taking a step, no breathing. _Vous avez changé tout cela_. God give
+you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to
+look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?'
+
+'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly.
+
+'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall
+see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please,
+brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of
+Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young
+woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and
+eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore
+a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump
+shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before
+Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood
+rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face.
+She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the
+very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of
+having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch
+looked embarrassed.
+
+'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth.
+
+'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with
+a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went
+gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that
+suited her.
+
+For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch
+sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist
+coming towards us,' he said in an undertone.
+
+Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the
+flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud;
+clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in
+his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was
+moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good
+morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I
+must just put these captives away.'
+
+'What have you there--leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No, frogs.'
+
+'Do you eat them--or keep them?'
+
+'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the
+house.
+
+'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no
+faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.'
+
+Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged
+his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his
+epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new
+bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a
+labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an
+Æsop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested
+himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll
+walk off in a huff like a fool.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking
+tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily
+watched first his father and then his uncle.
+
+'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last.
+
+'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some
+half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.'
+
+'Aren't you a sportsman then?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired.
+
+'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.'
+
+'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.'
+
+'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly.
+
+The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with
+ironical intention; none noticed it however.
+
+'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch,
+with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret
+irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute
+nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave
+abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was
+something churlish, almost insolent.
+
+'The scientific men there are a clever lot.'
+
+'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a
+flattering opinion, I dare say?'
+
+'That is very likely.'
+
+'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared,
+drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this?
+Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no
+authorities? Don't you believe in _them_?'
+
+'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me
+the truth, I agree, that's all.'
+
+'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his
+face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had
+withdrawn to some cloudy height.
+
+'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not
+care to continue the discussion.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him,
+'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again,
+not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans.
+Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of
+creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In
+former days there were some here and there; they had--well, Schiller,
+to be sure, Goethe ... my brother--he takes a particularly favourable
+view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists
+...'
+
+'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in
+Bazarov.
+
+'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling
+asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art
+then, I suppose?'
+
+'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with
+a contemptuous laugh.
+
+'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt?
+Granted. Then you believe in science only?'
+
+'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and
+what is science--science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there
+are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.'
+
+'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in
+human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?'
+
+'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it
+his duty to interpose in the conversation.
+
+'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day,
+dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own.
+For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences.
+I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the
+amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my
+agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.'
+
+'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our
+heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we
+haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.'
+
+'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch.
+'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud.
+'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk
+with the bailiff.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat.
+
+'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live
+five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You
+turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been
+taught, but--in a snap!--they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you
+that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and
+that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be
+done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away;
+Nikolai Petrovitch went after him.
+
+'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly
+the door had closed behind the two brothers.
+
+'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You
+have hurt his feelings.'
+
+'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why,
+it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his
+career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him!
+I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, _Dytiscus
+marginatus_; do you know it? I will show you.'
+
+'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady.
+
+'The story of the beetle?'
+
+'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the
+sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.'
+
+'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?'
+
+'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.'
+
+'How does that follow?'
+
+'No; listen ...'
+
+And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the
+following chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger
+brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was
+distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident,
+somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to
+please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his
+commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he
+indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave
+himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of
+their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly
+jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same
+apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not
+at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small,
+pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and
+thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and
+was timid in society.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself
+on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion
+among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six
+French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant
+career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed.
+
+At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman
+who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R----. She had a
+well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children.
+She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led
+an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a
+frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of
+pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom
+she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while
+at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often
+paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat,
+pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again
+into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply
+flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the
+slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair
+coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one
+would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point
+was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good--they were grey, and not
+large--but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of
+audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy--an enigmatic
+glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even
+while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed
+with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a
+mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single
+rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed
+to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object,
+but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was
+in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom,
+even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there
+seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which
+none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul--God knows! It
+seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces,
+incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will;
+her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her
+whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters
+which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a
+man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an
+element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased
+to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look
+of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this
+bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like
+expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting
+her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once,
+as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that
+heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure.
+
+'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He
+once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone.
+
+'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?'
+
+'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.'
+
+'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him.
+'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless
+smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R---- loved him; but when
+she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went
+out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no
+peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of
+her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the
+entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and
+followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one
+time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her.
+He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit
+... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost
+meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At
+Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as
+though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it
+was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went
+out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to
+remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was
+possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily
+avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former
+life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered
+from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society;
+he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of
+two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much
+of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and
+grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and
+arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him--a bad sign, as
+we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years
+passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless--and
+quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in
+prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club,
+Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R----. She had died
+at Paris in a state bordering on insanity.
+
+He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of
+the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go
+home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed
+to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn
+lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that
+the solution of the enigma--was the cross.
+
+This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when
+Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife.
+Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had
+settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had
+coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance
+with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him
+with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in
+sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in
+standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two
+brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less;
+Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his
+memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her.
+But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son
+was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary
+bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets
+that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth
+is over, while old age has not yet come.
+
+This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in
+losing his past, he lost everything.
+
+'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him
+one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his
+wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you
+would be bored to death.'
+
+'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then
+I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will
+let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.'
+
+For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half
+passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his
+mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the
+country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters
+which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to
+read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in
+the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the
+election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally
+annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal
+sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger
+generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up';
+and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for
+his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very
+well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for
+the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with
+Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took
+everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath;
+for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form'
+scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and
+always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible
+honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not
+cultivate ladies' acquaintance....
+
+'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how
+unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than
+once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money--the
+property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided--he's glad to help any
+one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's
+true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ...
+
+'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid.
+What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard
+to relations with women.'
+
+'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!'
+
+'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me;
+it's a sin to despise him.'
+
+'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a
+fellow who stakes his whole life on one card--a woman's love--and when
+that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for
+nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to
+know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced
+that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads
+that wretched _Galignani_, and once a month saves a peasant from a
+flogging.'
+
+'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed
+Arkady.
+
+'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as
+I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on
+it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all
+shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these
+mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know
+what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does
+the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all
+romantic, nonsensical, æsthetic rot. We had much better go and look at
+the beetle.'
+
+And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already
+pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of
+cheap tobacco.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview
+with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and
+knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered,
+'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and
+drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed
+system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel,
+warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood.
+Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was
+gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his
+money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel
+Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once,
+seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to
+turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his
+hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, '_mais je
+puis vous de l'argent_,' and gave him money; but to-day he had none
+himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural
+management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai
+Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in
+the right way, though he would not have been able to point out
+precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not
+practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.'
+Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel
+Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a
+soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say;
+'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see
+through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel
+Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother.
+
+Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor,
+which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had
+reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his
+moustaches, he knocked at it.
+
+'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice.
+
+'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door.
+
+Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her
+baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him
+out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily.
+
+'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at
+her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town
+to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.'
+
+'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?'
+
+'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change
+here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided
+over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing
+she did not understand him.
+
+'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a
+present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.'
+
+'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is
+very nice here.'
+
+'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka.
+
+'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to
+have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest
+smile.
+
+'Certainly, it's more comfortable.'
+
+'Who has been put in your place now?'
+
+'The laundry-maids are there now.'
+
+'Ah!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but
+he did not go, and she stood before him motionless.
+
+'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at
+last. 'I love children; let me see him.'
+
+Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid
+of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her.
+
+'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did
+not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must
+have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door.
+
+'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out
+quickly.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with
+special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself
+was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of
+camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought
+by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a
+little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with
+a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a
+big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg
+hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's
+breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully
+tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had
+written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was
+particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a
+cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping
+and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while
+hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above
+a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai
+Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer;
+there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute
+failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy
+frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General
+Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian
+mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins
+which fell right on to his brows.
+
+Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next
+room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book,
+an odd volume of Masalsky's _Musketeer_, and turned over a few
+pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her
+arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the
+collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing
+heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the
+air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock
+obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in
+every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too
+in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have
+remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more
+captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her
+arms?
+
+'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he
+tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his
+forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled.
+
+'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and
+slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a
+smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it.
+
+'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.'
+
+'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some
+timidity.
+
+'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the
+chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all
+his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her
+face away.
+
+'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka.
+
+'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself;
+'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost
+mournfully, at Fenitchka.
+
+'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time.
+
+'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai
+Petrovitch.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother
+looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help
+responding to his smile.
+
+'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch,
+'I came in here to speak about some tea.'
+
+And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once
+went out of the room.
+
+'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka.
+
+'Yes; he knocked and came in.'
+
+'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?'
+
+'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.'
+
+'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his
+forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he
+said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on
+the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's
+hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock.
+
+'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her
+eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her
+eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled
+tenderly and a little foolishly.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following
+manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an
+inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness
+of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the
+woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him;
+but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed,
+of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered
+into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai
+Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not
+wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for
+wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small
+number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her
+to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented.
+Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter,
+Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new
+housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed
+herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a
+successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for
+Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and
+scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on
+Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side
+place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed
+thus.
+
+One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she
+asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark
+from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home
+people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide.
+He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much
+frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she
+followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took
+her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and
+swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at
+once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it
+ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then
+was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai
+Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed
+her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well
+again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not
+pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate,
+timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair,
+and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly
+teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch
+her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation
+with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the
+approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she
+ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood,
+so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head
+through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out
+like a little animal, and called affectionately to her--
+
+'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.'
+
+'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush.
+
+By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in
+his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What
+was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for
+order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone.
+Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's
+needless to relate the rest....
+
+'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her.
+'He knocked and came in?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.'
+
+And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to
+the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the
+mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his
+little bare legs.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls
+covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a
+variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture,
+upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a _renaissance_ bookcase of
+old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table,
+with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands
+behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face
+almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the
+very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other
+reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw
+himself on the sofa.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was
+walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of
+the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well.
+
+'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and
+spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there
+has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're
+accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But
+there's some one in here.'
+
+In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov
+stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend.
+
+'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a
+pretty girl!'
+
+'Whom are you speaking of?'
+
+'You know; only one of them was pretty.'
+
+Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who
+Fenitchka was.
+
+'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I
+like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make
+friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour.
+
+'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about,
+for mercy's sake.'
+
+'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself--I'm
+not a booby.'
+
+Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap.
+
+'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a
+harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.'
+
+Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without
+speaking.
+
+'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises
+have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed?
+Is he cutting his teeth?'
+
+'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums
+are swollen again.'
+
+'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.'
+
+Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment
+both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was
+not frightened.
+
+'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will
+have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you
+quite well yourself?'
+
+'Quite, thank God.'
+
+'Thank God, indeed--that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning
+to Dunyasha.
+
+Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside
+the gates, only giggled in answer.
+
+'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.'
+
+Fenitchka received the baby in her arms.
+
+'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone.
+
+'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way
+with them.'
+
+'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha.
+
+'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to
+some people for anything.'
+
+'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance
+for some time, had gone up to the arbour.
+
+He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back
+and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion.
+
+'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady
+indulgently, and the two friends walked away.
+
+'What's her name?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady.
+
+'And her father's name? One must know that too.'
+
+'Nikolaevna.'
+
+'_Bene_. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some
+people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What
+is there to embarrass her? She's a mother--she's all right.'
+
+'She's all right,' observed Arkady,--'but my father.'
+
+'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'Well, no, I don't think so.'
+
+'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?'
+
+'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted
+Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of
+view; I think he ought to marry her.'
+
+'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows
+we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect
+that of you.'
+
+The friends walked a few paces in silence.
+
+'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began
+again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the
+buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers;
+while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite
+found out which yet.'
+
+'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.'
+
+'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead
+certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will
+cheat God Himself."'
+
+'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have
+a poor opinion of Russians.'
+
+'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his
+having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that
+two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.'
+
+'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the
+bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of
+the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky.
+
+'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a
+temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.'
+
+At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to
+them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's _Expectation_ with
+much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with
+honey sweetness through the air.
+
+'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement.
+
+'It's my father.'
+
+'Your father plays the violoncello?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And how old is your father?'
+
+'Forty-four.'
+
+Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter.
+
+'What are you laughing at?'
+
+'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a _paterfamilias_ in this
+out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!'
+
+Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time
+Arkady did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed
+course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked.
+Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners,
+and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far
+at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had
+convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual,
+he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand
+Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of
+his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar;
+he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a
+contempt for him--him, Pavel Kirsanov!
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was
+doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was
+glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and
+chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and
+busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to
+him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was
+one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle
+with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when
+she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last
+degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose
+whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out
+a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat--even he
+smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the
+boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old
+man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the
+dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an
+upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a
+pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an
+aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+The best days of the year had come--the first days of June. The weather
+kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was
+threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get
+used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for
+two or three miles, not for a walk--he couldn't bear walking without an
+object--but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he
+took Arkady with him.
+
+On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually
+vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion.
+
+One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet
+them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the
+quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the
+other side of the arbour, and could not see him.
+
+'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady.
+
+'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times;
+his day is done.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer.
+
+The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole
+slowly home.
+
+'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was
+continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly
+use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And
+what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something
+sensible to read.'
+
+'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Oh, I think Büchner's _Stoff und Kraft_ to begin with.'
+
+'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, '_Stoff und Kraft_ is
+written in popular language....'
+
+'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his
+brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our
+day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I
+confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to
+such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left
+behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.'
+
+'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us
+already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and
+mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head.
+I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm
+convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in
+medicine.'
+
+'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his
+subject.'
+
+'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in
+again.
+
+'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no
+doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into
+account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I
+have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I
+am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I
+study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the
+day--and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it
+is.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I
+remember, it happened to be _The Gipsies_ ... all of a sudden Arkady
+came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on
+his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me,
+and laid another before me--a German book ... smiled, and went away,
+carrying Pushkin off with him.'
+
+'Upon my word! What book did he give you?'
+
+'This one here.'
+
+And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Büchner, in the
+ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady
+Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try
+reading it?'
+
+'Yes, I tried it.'
+
+'Well, what did you think of it?'
+
+'Either I'm stupid, or it's all--nonsense. I must be stupid, I
+suppose.'
+
+'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Oh, I understand the German.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced
+from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent.
+
+'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change
+the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.'
+
+'Matvy Ilyitch?'
+
+'Yes. He has come to----to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig
+now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us
+again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.'
+
+'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No; are you?'
+
+'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself
+over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. _Mathieu_ wants to show himself
+in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him
+homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed,
+a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on
+in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now.
+Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.'
+
+'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's
+arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh.
+
+'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother.
+'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of
+that.'
+
+A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came
+into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and
+determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy;
+but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule,
+Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was
+how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour,
+and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was
+all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last.
+
+The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten
+aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in
+Petersburg.
+
+'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were
+trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and
+"aristocrat" the same meaning?'
+
+'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip
+of tea.
+
+'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats
+as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do
+not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for
+a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that
+reason, I respect aristocrats--real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir'
+(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel
+Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony--'the
+English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and
+for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the
+performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform
+their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and
+maintains it for her.'
+
+'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what
+are you trying to prove by that?'
+
+'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he
+intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew
+very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this
+fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the
+times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions
+when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as
+much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we
+are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of
+scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense
+of personal dignity, without self-respect--and these two sentiments are
+well developed in the aristocrat--there is no secure foundation for the
+social ... _bien public_ ... the social fabric. Personal character,
+sir--that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm
+as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for
+instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my
+refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of
+self-respect, from a sense of duty--yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the
+country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the
+dignity of man in myself.'
+
+'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect
+yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does
+that do to the _bien public_? If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do
+just the same.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's
+absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with
+folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to
+tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but
+immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to
+Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so,
+Nikolai?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head.
+
+'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying
+meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless
+words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.'
+
+'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we
+shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come--the
+logic of history demands ...'
+
+'But what's that logic to us? We can get on without that too.'
+
+'How do you mean?'
+
+'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your
+mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to
+us?'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror.
+
+'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I
+don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles,
+rules! By virtue of what do you act then?'
+
+'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,'
+put in Arkady.
+
+'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed
+Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of
+all--and we deny----'
+
+'Everything?'
+
+'Everything!'
+
+'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...'
+
+'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady
+fairly blushed with delight.
+
+'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or,
+speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must
+construct too, you know.'
+
+'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.'
+
+'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with
+dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no
+right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.'
+
+This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of
+philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called
+philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to
+correct his young disciple.
+
+'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing
+to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that
+you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No;
+the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds
+sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...'
+
+'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready
+to agree that in that you're right.'
+
+'But if I am right ...'
+
+'And, all the same, that proves nothing.'
+
+'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a
+practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move
+on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it.
+
+'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You
+must be going against the people then?'
+
+'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when
+it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot.
+What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian;
+but am I not Russian too?'
+
+'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't
+acknowledge you as Russian.'
+
+'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty
+pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us--you or me--he'd more
+readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to
+talk to them.'
+
+'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.'
+
+'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude,
+but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a
+product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war
+on it?'
+
+'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!'
+
+'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you
+suppose you're not a useless person.'
+
+'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai
+Petrovitch, getting up.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder,
+forced him to sit down again.
+
+'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through
+that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our
+friend--our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again
+to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty?
+That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more
+than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...'
+
+'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel
+vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the
+first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.'
+
+'What do you do, then?'
+
+'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our
+officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real
+justice ...'
+
+'Oh, I see, you are reformers--that's what that's called, I fancy. I
+too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...'
+
+'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk,
+about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to
+nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men,
+so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy
+ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious
+creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what
+all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat,
+while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our
+enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men
+enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's
+busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to
+rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.'
+
+'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all
+this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.'
+
+'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He
+suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so
+expansive before this gentleman.
+
+'But to confine yourselves to abuse?'
+
+'To confine ourselves to abuse.'
+
+'And that is called nihilism?'
+
+'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with
+peculiar rudeness.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he
+observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our
+woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse
+others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one
+else?'
+
+'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered
+between his teeth.
+
+'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?'
+
+Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel
+Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself.
+
+'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without
+even knowing why?'
+
+'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed.
+
+'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing
+himself up.
+
+'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of
+maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise
+what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the
+patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in
+the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is
+civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't
+tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, _un
+barbouilleur_, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an
+evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives
+of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves
+advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's
+hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only
+four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you
+trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk
+over you!'
+
+'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an
+open question. We are not so few as you suppose.'
+
+'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole
+people?'
+
+'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered
+Bazarov.
+
+'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule--that, that's
+what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the
+inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you,
+ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady
+turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I
+have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican.
+Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an
+authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and
+unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a
+Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They
+are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?'
+
+'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing;
+and they're no better than he.'
+
+'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought
+to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they
+fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't
+want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked
+it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is
+foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be
+sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned
+nihilists.'
+
+'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked
+Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes
+were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it
+short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added,
+getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present
+mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for
+complete and unqualified destruction.'
+
+'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel
+Petrovitch--'millions! Well--the Mir, for instance.'
+
+A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he
+commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I
+should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact--its common
+guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.'
+
+'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried
+Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not
+to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head
+of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel
+Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not
+likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and
+think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...'
+
+'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel
+Petrovitch.
+
+'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the
+present, gentlemen!'
+
+The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first
+they only looked at one another.
+
+'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of
+this generation are! They are like that--our successors!'
+
+'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile.
+He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done
+nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you
+know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our
+poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to
+her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two
+different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought,
+"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow
+it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us,
+"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."'
+
+'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied
+Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are
+far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps
+express ourselves in old-fashioned language, _vieilli_, and have not
+the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men
+nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my
+custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn
+as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....'
+
+'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at
+the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the
+drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there.
+
+'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai
+Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said '_bon
+soir_' to him abruptly, and went away to his study.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his
+favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the
+first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he
+foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then,
+had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the
+newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in
+vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in
+their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought,
+'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further
+from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is
+something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is
+it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in
+there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand
+over his face.
+
+'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for
+art, for nature ...'
+
+And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible
+to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was
+hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile
+from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still
+fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow
+path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even
+to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the
+horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side
+fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a
+warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their
+leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky,
+faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind
+had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the
+lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary
+branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!'
+thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his
+lips; he remembered Arkady's _Stoff und Kraft_--and was silent, but
+still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful
+consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country
+life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had
+been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station,
+and what a change already since that day; their relations that were
+then undefined, were defined now--and how defined! Again his dead wife
+came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many
+years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a
+slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on
+her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first
+time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of
+his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to
+apologise, and could only mutter, '_Pardon, monsieur_,' while she
+bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at
+the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a
+serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the
+half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and
+yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all
+vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are
+happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one
+not live an eternal, undying life in them?'
+
+He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that
+he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory;
+he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her
+warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him....
+
+'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him;
+'where are you?'
+
+He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the
+possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was
+sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought
+back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality....
+
+The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just
+rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken--and vanished.
+
+'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the
+traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped
+into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he
+noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been
+dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had
+glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go
+home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at
+once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking
+at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky
+where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he
+was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of
+yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh,
+how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing
+within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man
+forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding
+tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the
+violoncello.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to
+go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him
+so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to
+tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh
+air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving.
+
+At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the
+matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a
+ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and
+moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too
+grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in
+his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the
+stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and
+sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of
+dreaming....
+
+'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've
+got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an
+invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let
+us be off to X----; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see
+what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll
+have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.'
+
+'And you'll come back here again?'
+
+'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five
+miles from X----. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother
+too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me,
+especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.'
+
+'And will you be long with them?'
+
+'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.'
+
+'And you'll come to us on your way back?'
+
+'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?'
+
+'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly.
+
+In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but
+he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for
+nothing!
+
+The next day he set off with Bazarov to X----. The younger part of the
+household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ...
+but the old folks breathed more easily.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The town of X---- to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction
+of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a
+despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first
+year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the
+marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open
+house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The
+feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the
+ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted
+personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The
+choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of
+the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once
+found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had
+not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming
+a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast--one, to be
+sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor,
+whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a
+progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the
+majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity
+knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened
+condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first
+acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On
+important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make
+his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then,
+'_l'énergie est la première qualité d'un homme d'état_;' and for all
+that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official
+could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great
+respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he
+did not belong to the class of _routiniers_ and high-and-dry
+bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed
+unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He
+even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development
+of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of
+small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality,
+Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days
+of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame
+Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were
+different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite,
+and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no
+intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no
+one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the
+principal thing.
+
+Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call
+it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He
+was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited
+had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer
+fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent
+velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a
+discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated
+attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from
+prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But,
+having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further
+attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their
+subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that
+end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great
+vogue, '_is quite a favourite_,' as the English say; a high official
+suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total
+deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?'
+
+He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.'
+
+'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with
+intense attention.
+
+'To-day's Friday, your Ex--s--s--lency.'
+
+'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?'
+
+'Friday, your Ex--s--s--s--lency, the day of the week.'
+
+'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?'
+
+Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was
+reckoned a liberal.
+
+'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to
+Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere
+to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to
+authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow;
+besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society
+here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the
+day after to-morrow.'
+
+'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady.
+
+'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly.
+'Do you dance?'
+
+'Yes; I dance, but not well.'
+
+'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a
+young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any
+old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies
+in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, _il a fait son temps_.'
+
+'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...'
+
+'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my
+wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll
+find it warm, eh?'
+
+A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of
+the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his
+mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day,
+when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from
+every little flower.' Arkady withdrew.
+
+He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long
+while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's
+no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by
+halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!'
+
+The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to
+sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss
+and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an
+excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever
+making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and
+within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as
+brothers, and calling them Kisarov.
+
+They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short
+man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was
+passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov.
+
+'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along
+on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?'
+
+'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap,
+he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My
+father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and
+so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already
+been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their
+room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name
+of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic
+characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?'
+
+'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.'
+
+'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch,
+introduce me to your ... to the ...'
+
+'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping.
+
+'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking,
+and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard
+so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may
+say--his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....'
+
+Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of
+excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of
+his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a
+fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy--a sort of short,
+wooden laugh.
+
+'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the
+first time said before me that it was not right to accept any
+authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened!
+Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is
+really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a
+real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?'
+
+'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly.
+
+'Kukshina, _Eudoxie_, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature,
+_émancipée_ in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you
+know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two
+steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not
+lunched yet?'
+
+'No; not yet.'
+
+'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her
+husband; she is not dependent on any one.'
+
+'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in.
+
+'N-no, one couldn't say that.'
+
+'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?'
+
+'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of
+champagne.'
+
+'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is
+your father still in the gin business?'
+
+'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh.
+'Well? Will you come?'
+
+'I don't really know.'
+
+'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone.
+
+'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must
+come too; we can't go without you.'
+
+'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?'
+
+'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!'
+
+'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.'
+
+'What with?'
+
+'My own head.'
+
+'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya
+Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the
+streets of X----, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known
+that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door,
+above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to
+be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly
+a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap--unmistakable tokens of
+the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired
+whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home.
+
+'Is that you, _Victor_?' sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining
+room. 'Come in.'
+
+The woman in the cap disappeared at once.
+
+'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and
+Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared
+something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket.
+
+'No matter,' answered the voice. '_Entrez_.'
+
+The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a
+working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of
+Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty
+tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a
+leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair
+hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy,
+heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head.
+She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed
+with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly,
+'Good-morning, _Victor_,' and pressed Sitnikov's hand.
+
+'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov.
+
+'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of
+round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I
+know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too.
+
+Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person
+of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a
+disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her,
+'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a
+fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air.
+She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she
+obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all
+the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just
+what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say,
+done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally.
+
+'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the
+habit--peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies--of calling men by
+their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you
+have a cigar?'
+
+'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in
+an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're
+awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of
+champagne.'
+
+'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the
+gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a
+Sybarite?'
+
+'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That
+does not prevent my being a Liberal.'
+
+'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions,
+however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne.
+
+'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm
+persuaded you share my opinion.'
+
+'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of
+bread even from the chemical point of view.'
+
+'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a
+new sort of composition myself.'
+
+'A composition? You?'
+
+'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that
+they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not
+quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read
+Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the _Moscow Gazette_? Read it
+please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the
+schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?'
+
+Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected
+negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their
+nurses.
+
+'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing
+nothing.'
+
+Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you
+know, I'm very angry with you.'
+
+'What for?'
+
+'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A
+retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with
+Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything.
+She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these
+days--what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her
+hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that
+subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of
+the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on
+the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.'
+
+'Why so? Allow me to ask.'
+
+'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes!
+why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a
+country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my
+bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder;
+something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's
+an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?'
+
+'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly.
+
+'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to
+spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur
+Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I
+don't know--it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad;
+last year I was on the point of setting off.'
+
+'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'To Paris and to Heidelberg.'
+
+'Why to Heidelberg?'
+
+'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!'
+
+To this Bazarov could find no reply.
+
+'_Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Not know _Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.'
+
+'I don't know her either.'
+
+'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent;
+I've no children.... What was that I said: _thank God!_ It's no matter
+though.'
+
+Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown
+with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began
+smoking. The maid came in with a tray.
+
+'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the
+bottle; that's in your line.'
+
+'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to
+the same convulsive laugh.
+
+'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a
+third glass.
+
+'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed
+creatures. _Mon amie_, Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a
+pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though,
+but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all
+that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a
+great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.'
+
+'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to
+despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The
+possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable
+sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never
+suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing
+before his wife merely because she had been born a princess
+Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of
+understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken
+of by serious men like us!'
+
+'But there's not the least need for them to understand our
+conversation,' observed Bazarov.
+
+'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya.
+
+'Pretty women.'
+
+'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?'
+
+Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I
+have my own.'
+
+'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of
+expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired.
+
+'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ...
+
+'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the
+silly hussies?'
+
+'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn
+to defend to the last drop of my blood.'
+
+'Damn!'--but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said.
+
+'No, I see you're a Slavophil.'
+
+'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...'
+
+'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal
+despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!'
+
+'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the
+last drop.'
+
+'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya.
+
+'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne--not of
+your blood.'
+
+'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya.
+'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read
+Michelet's book, _De l'amour_. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk
+of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled
+sofa cushion.
+
+A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said
+Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was
+what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?'
+
+'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you.
+Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she
+ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, _Evdoxie!_
+Let us clink glasses! _Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc,
+et tin-tin-tin!!!_'
+
+'Victor, you're a wretch.'
+
+The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was
+followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered
+without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the
+question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men
+were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in.
+Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk,
+tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano,
+and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then
+Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a
+scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words--
+
+  'And thy lips to mine
+   In burning kiss entwine.'
+
+Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something
+like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put
+in an ironical word in the conversation--he paid more attention to the
+champagne--gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their
+hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed
+them.
+
+'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously
+from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable
+personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own
+way, an expression of the highest morality.'
+
+'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the
+highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which
+they were passing at that instant.
+
+Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of
+his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at
+Bazarov's unexpected familiarity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch
+was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared
+to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while
+the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly
+motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy
+Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was
+gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a
+shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles '_en vrai chevalier
+français_' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a
+hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He
+slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed
+Bazarov--who was attired in a rather old evening coat--a sidelong
+glance in passing--absent but condescending--and an indistinct but
+affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and
+'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head
+already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the
+ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her
+hair, he said '_enchanté_.' There were crowds of people, and no lack of
+dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along
+the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them
+who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring
+interjections of the kind of--'_zut_,' '_Ah, fichtr-re_,' '_pst, pst,
+mon bibi_,' and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine
+Parisian _chic_, and at the same time he said '_si j'aurais_' for '_si
+j'avais_,' '_absolument_' in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed
+himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French
+ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak
+French like angels, '_comme des anges_.'
+
+Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at
+all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined
+himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his
+face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about
+him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face
+changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of
+embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!'
+
+Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at
+the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her
+bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some
+light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping
+shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging
+white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression--tranquil it was
+precisely, not pensive--and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible
+smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face.
+
+'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov.
+
+'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?'
+
+'Please ... after this quadrille.'
+
+Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov.
+
+'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.'
+
+After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to
+Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with
+her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in
+some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she
+heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of
+Nikolai Petrovitch.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,'
+she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.'
+
+At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a
+quadrille. She consented.
+
+'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully.
+
+'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too
+old?'
+
+'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for
+a mazurka.'
+
+Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she
+looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married
+sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older
+than Arkady--she was twenty-nine--but in her presence he felt himself a
+schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them
+seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a
+majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still
+watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the
+quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand
+official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly.
+Her nose--like almost all Russian noses--was a little thick; and her
+complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all
+that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could
+not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her
+dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest--more
+gracefully and amply--and her movements were distinguished by a
+peculiar smoothness and naturalness.
+
+Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the
+mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to
+enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through
+his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and
+agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon
+him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her
+freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the
+country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy,
+slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when
+partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She
+came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even
+heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled
+through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her,
+looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever
+face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from
+some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had
+already felt and thought much....
+
+'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov
+brought you to me?'
+
+'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid
+face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.'
+
+Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail,
+and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and
+looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a
+close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly
+an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time
+continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he
+ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down
+by that feeling.
+
+The music stopped. '_Merci_,' said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You
+promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be
+very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.'
+
+The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was
+ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went
+away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low,
+looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the
+greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has
+forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his
+soul.
+
+'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the
+corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to
+me about that lady; he said, "She's--oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the
+fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?--oh, fie! fie!'
+
+'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Oh, my! What innocence!'
+
+'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame
+Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and
+severely, that....'
+
+'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it
+piquancy. You like ices, I expect?'
+
+'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She
+wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see
+her.'
+
+'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me.
+Whatever she may be--whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or
+"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion--any way she's got a pair of
+shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.'
+
+Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but--as often happens--he
+reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ...
+
+'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a
+low voice.
+
+'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers
+among women are frights.'
+
+The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went
+away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously
+malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her
+vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any
+attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at
+four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with
+Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final
+event of the Governor's ball.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov
+said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the
+hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something
+wrong here.'
+
+'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov,
+clinging to the narrow morality, which ...'
+
+'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly.
+'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my
+dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you
+tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though,
+to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to
+do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of
+the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says,
+that it's well-grounded.'
+
+Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A
+young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room,
+badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with
+flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning
+dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine.
+Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he
+seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil,
+as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of
+being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!--frightened
+of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an
+easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease,
+while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him.
+
+Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev,
+notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling
+propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for
+fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself
+completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where,
+however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two
+daughters--Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their
+mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes--the H----s-- had
+died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position
+after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education
+she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with
+the cares of domestic life and economy,--for an obscure existence in
+the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and
+there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all
+contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they
+despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and
+promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna
+H----, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in
+her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use,
+scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk
+even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a
+threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a
+three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims,
+gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed,
+already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the
+wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to
+be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric
+hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not
+ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She
+consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on
+his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in
+the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad
+with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and
+came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty
+miles from the town of X----. There she had a magnificent, splendidly
+furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late
+husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna
+went very rarely to the town, generally only on business, and even then
+she did not stay long. She was not liked in the province; there had
+been a fearful outcry at her marriage with Odintsov, all sorts of
+fictions were told about her; it was asserted that she had helped her
+father in his cardsharping tricks, and even that she had gone abroad
+for excellent reasons, that it had been necessary to conceal the
+lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?' the indignant gossips
+would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,' was said of her; to
+which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And through all the other
+elements?' All this talk reached her; but she turned a deaf ear to it;
+there was much independence and a good deal of determination in her
+character.
+
+Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with
+folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good
+deal, and obviously trying to interest her--again a surprise for
+Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his
+object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what
+impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression,
+gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention,
+but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her
+unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a
+discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that
+even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no
+one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet
+with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a
+clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she
+had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have
+no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about
+medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that
+Madame Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a
+good many excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She
+turned the conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not
+appreciate art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though
+Arkady was just launching into a discourse upon the significance of
+national melodies. Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a
+younger brother; she seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful
+simplicity--and that was all. For over three hours, a lively
+conversation was kept up, ranging freely over various subjects.
+
+The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna
+looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both,
+and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful
+smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me
+at Nikolskoe.'
+
+'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness
+happiness ...'
+
+'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?'
+
+Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he
+noticed that his friend was blushing.
+
+'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same
+opinion--that she's ...'
+
+'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a
+brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal
+personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.'
+
+'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady.
+
+'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be
+hard up!'
+
+'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady.
+
+'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it
+on the dissecting-table.'
+
+'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.'
+
+'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go
+to stay with her.'
+
+'When?'
+
+'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink
+champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal
+dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too--my
+father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the
+S---- road, isn't it?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a
+splendid body!'
+
+Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to
+Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek
+posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited
+tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled.
+
+'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June,
+my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day
+they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can
+go on expecting.... What does it matter!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed
+hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof,
+white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing
+the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the
+foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially
+conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village
+stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above
+the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the
+church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too
+was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a
+pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both
+buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not
+endure--as he expressed it--idle and arbitrary innovations. The house
+was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an
+avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance.
+
+Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of
+them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black
+dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase
+covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were
+already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was
+clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean,
+everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in
+the reception rooms of ministers.
+
+'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward
+announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?'
+
+'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to
+trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he
+withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked.
+
+'What _grand genre_!' remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in
+your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.'
+
+'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she
+invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.'
+
+'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village
+sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a
+sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause,
+contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh,
+doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?'
+
+Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a
+little nervousness.
+
+Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the
+drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously
+but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in
+the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with
+cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered
+the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit
+merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a
+faded light-haired man--and it seemed to look with displeasure at the
+visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady,
+and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at
+that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barège
+dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish
+expression to her pure and fresh face.
+
+'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a
+little while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to
+my sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference
+to you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond
+of music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one
+of our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all
+our circle. And now let us sit down.'
+
+Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar
+precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to
+Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had
+even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady
+began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell
+to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking
+to himself.
+
+A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room,
+tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of
+eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but
+pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket
+filled with flowers.
+
+'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion
+of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her
+sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was
+Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and
+thrusting his cold nose into their hands.
+
+'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Yes,' answered Katya.
+
+'Is auntie coming to tea?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and
+candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous
+severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the
+voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white
+palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing
+and getting out of breath.
+
+Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from
+politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest
+you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion
+about something.'
+
+Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for
+discussion?' he said.
+
+'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.'
+
+'You?'
+
+'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?'
+
+'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and
+one must be impulsive to be argumentative.'
+
+'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first
+place, I am impatient and obstinate--you should ask Katya; and
+secondly, I am very easily carried away.'
+
+Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so
+you are inclined for a discussion--by all means. I was looking through
+the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that
+that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have
+no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might
+be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of
+the mountains, for instance.'
+
+'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a
+book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.'
+
+'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages
+in a book.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little.
+
+'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting
+her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face
+nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?'
+
+'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?'
+
+'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.'
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and
+in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth
+the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each
+of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called
+moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no
+importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by.
+People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying
+each individual birch-tree.'
+
+Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely
+fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting
+his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna
+Sergyevna shook her head.
+
+'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is
+no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the
+good-natured and ill-natured?'
+
+'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy.
+The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as
+yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know
+approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come
+from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed
+with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short,
+reform society, and there will be no diseases.'
+
+Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while
+thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to
+me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes
+strayed about the room.
+
+'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is
+reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?'
+
+'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be
+absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.'
+
+'Precisely so, madam.'
+
+Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady
+Nikolaevitch?'
+
+'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered.
+
+Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids.
+
+'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have
+more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare
+her.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H----, a thin little woman with a
+pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring
+ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely
+bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair,
+upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a
+footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even
+look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost
+covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had
+bright yellow ribbons.
+
+'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her
+voice.
+
+'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing
+Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried,
+'Ss----ss!'
+
+Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him.
+
+Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a
+walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching
+and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out....
+
+'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?'
+
+The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out
+of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A
+little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table,
+an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she
+sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup
+emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her
+cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with
+sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything),
+and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan
+write?'
+
+No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they
+paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully.
+
+'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov....
+
+After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but
+it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of
+the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted
+card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish,
+greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be
+amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov,
+asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the
+old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he
+ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a
+country doctor.'
+
+'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and
+I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady
+Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.'
+
+Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly
+was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that
+Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man
+at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his
+heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano,
+and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice--
+
+'What am I to play you?'
+
+'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently.
+
+'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing
+her attitude.
+
+'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice.
+
+'Do you like Mozart?'
+
+'Yes, I like Mozart.'
+
+Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very
+well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and
+immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly
+compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair
+came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow.
+
+Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part
+in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody,
+the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break
+in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference
+to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady
+doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.'
+
+When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from
+the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not
+venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he
+asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had
+recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she
+withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to
+her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at
+such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly
+shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated
+her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last
+to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the
+head to give himself an appearance of being at home.
+
+Katya set to work again upon her flowers.
+
+Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in
+masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the
+game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not
+altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the
+conversation on botany.
+
+'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you
+to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.'
+
+'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Order is needed in everything,' she answered.
+
+'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was
+alone with his friend in the room assigned to them.
+
+'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen
+life too.'
+
+'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?'
+
+'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch!
+I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid
+is not her, but her sister.'
+
+'What, that little dark thing?'
+
+'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy
+and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and
+developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the
+other's--a stale loaf.'
+
+Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with
+rather singular thoughts in his head.
+
+Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked
+Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply
+defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not
+chanced to meet before, and she was curious.
+
+Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of
+any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went
+out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she
+had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely
+satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her
+intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts
+were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough
+to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would
+perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion.
+But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went
+on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid,
+and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours
+before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away,
+and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits
+of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then
+her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful,
+tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and
+enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the
+sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with
+sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would
+blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into
+herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one
+thing she cared for at that instant--to get away from that horrid
+draught.
+
+Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something,
+without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing;
+but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly
+endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives,
+though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she
+had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret
+repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as
+slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once,
+somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous
+expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a
+powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going
+back to Russia.
+
+'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious
+bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had
+inherited from her father a little of his inclination for splendour.
+She had fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had
+idolised her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she
+were an equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her
+mother she scarcely remembered.
+
+'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched,
+smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two
+pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book--and fell asleep, all
+pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen.
+
+The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov
+directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not
+go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored
+with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day
+before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught
+sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came
+through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing
+and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw
+hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a
+light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons
+of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her,
+self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face,
+cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering
+between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while
+Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past
+him.
+
+'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each
+other already to-day!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls
+like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not
+even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way
+Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good
+order she had established in her house and in her life partly
+contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself,
+and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done
+at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the
+party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did
+what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the
+estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper.
+Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the
+evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna
+Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following
+day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat
+ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he
+pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards,
+offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so
+far, one might as well dine in the English style at once--in tail-coats
+and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna
+Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his
+mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was,
+'From your point of view, you are right--and perhaps, in that respect,
+I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without
+order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own
+way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and
+Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on
+rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men
+since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna
+Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him,
+began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily
+put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and
+could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by
+some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind
+conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to
+yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent
+him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into
+friendly, affectionate terms with her. '_She_ does not appreciate me?
+So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he
+thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous
+emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of
+consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the
+innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did
+not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always
+shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as
+befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the
+object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was
+conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame
+Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and
+she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With
+Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her
+condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her
+by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without
+noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too.
+Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at
+his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually
+came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together,
+went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya
+adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to
+acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent
+to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two
+friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them
+began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame
+Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is
+true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her
+sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry,
+and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to
+avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him.
+
+Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself.
+
+The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in
+Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him,
+and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and
+cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the
+possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love
+for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he
+expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable
+imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the
+nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his
+wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not
+been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used
+to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't--well, turn your back
+on her--there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had
+taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of
+her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his
+favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and
+to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his
+power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he
+could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking
+root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always
+jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna
+Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for
+everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he
+recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and
+walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his
+way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get
+into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try
+to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always
+succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands
+twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his
+kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness--yes, with
+tenderness--on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for
+an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself
+in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a
+devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking
+place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression
+of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point
+he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists.
+
+Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame
+Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal
+about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for
+his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she
+liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even
+when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She
+was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself.
+
+One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a
+surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon....
+She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a
+pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the
+meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of
+putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never
+'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his
+father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child,
+Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and
+astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny
+tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov,
+in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip
+of leather, and in tarred boots.
+
+'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov.
+
+'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he
+smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered
+with wrinkles.
+
+'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?'
+
+'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered
+the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.)
+'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your
+honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say--to have a look
+at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!'
+
+'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to
+the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no
+answer. 'Is my father well?'
+
+'Thank God, yes.'
+
+'And my mother?'
+
+'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.'
+
+'They are expecting me, I suppose?'
+
+The little old man held his tiny head on one side.
+
+'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it
+does really.'
+
+'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh.
+
+As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with
+both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went
+off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town.
+
+On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own
+room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening
+to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she
+could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff
+lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she
+made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before
+her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov
+was well aware of all this.
+
+'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your
+promise?'
+
+Bazarov started. 'What promise?'
+
+'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.'
+
+'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer.
+However, you can read Pelouse et Frémy, _Notions générales de Chimie_;
+it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you
+need in it.'
+
+'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of
+... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you
+remember?'
+
+'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov.
+
+'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice.
+
+He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her
+easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom.
+She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a
+perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its
+soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen.
+
+'And why stay?' answered Bazarov.
+
+Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not
+enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed
+here?'
+
+'I am sure of it.'
+
+Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that.
+But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov
+still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?'
+
+'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being
+missed, and I less than most.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.'
+
+'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'
+
+'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing
+in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?'
+
+Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief.
+
+'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.'
+
+'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her
+shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated.
+
+'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.'
+
+'What makes you suppose that?'
+
+'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular
+routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such
+unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness
+or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.'
+
+'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I
+have ordered my life with such regularity?'
+
+'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike
+ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.'
+
+'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may
+stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.'
+
+Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud
+crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands
+were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its
+almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance
+of the pure open air.
+
+'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a
+talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you
+never talk about yourself.'
+
+'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.'
+
+'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you,
+about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.'
+
+'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov.
+
+'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud,
+'especially for you; we are obscure people....'
+
+'And you regard me as an aristocrat?'
+
+Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness.
+
+She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that
+all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will
+tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.'
+
+'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right;
+perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid
+society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to
+stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty,
+live in the country?'
+
+'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With
+my ... beauty?'
+
+Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I
+don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?'
+
+'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some
+way?'
+
+'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because
+you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease,
+and very indifferent to everything else.'
+
+Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe
+that I am capable of being carried away by anything?'
+
+Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows.
+
+'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.'
+
+'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just
+like me, you see.'
+
+'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice.
+
+'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.'
+
+Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark,
+luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and
+there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard
+its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single
+limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion.
+
+It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he
+was alone with a young and lovely woman....
+
+'Where are you going?' she said slowly.
+
+He answered nothing, and sank into a chair.
+
+'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went
+on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I
+know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.'
+
+'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle
+gossip?'
+
+Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a
+meaning to her words.
+
+'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too
+proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no
+desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think
+that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a
+velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call
+comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain
+that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your
+eyes.'
+
+Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich;
+what more would you have? What do you want?'
+
+'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very
+tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am
+old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare
+arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me
+I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then
+poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in
+due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me,
+before me--a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.'
+
+'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each
+syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in
+something....'
+
+'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't
+love; that's where your unhappiness lies.'
+
+Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace.
+
+'Is it true I can't love?' she said.
+
+'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On
+the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls
+him.'
+
+'Mischance, what?'
+
+'Falling in love.'
+
+'And how do you come to know that?'
+
+'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily.
+
+'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want
+of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it
+were being torn to pieces.
+
+'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole
+frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair.
+
+'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take
+mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else
+better have nothing.'
+
+'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so
+far you ... have not found what you wanted.'
+
+'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to
+anything whatever?'
+
+'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to
+yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without
+reflection is very easy.'
+
+'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need
+my devotion?'
+
+'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is
+my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.'
+
+Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,'
+she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.'
+
+'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not
+in my line.'
+
+'But you could devote yourself?'
+
+'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.'
+
+Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the
+piano floated up to them from the drawing-room.
+
+'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov.
+
+Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to
+bed.'
+
+'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to
+you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov;
+it seemed as though she were examining him attentively.
+
+He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said
+'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was
+gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and
+suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with
+rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov
+back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray.
+Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again,
+and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark
+coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna
+Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from
+time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of
+the night.
+
+Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet
+with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the
+writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the
+throat.
+
+'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance.
+
+'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked
+Arkady, not answering him.
+
+'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with
+Katya Sergyevna.'
+
+'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears
+were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his
+sarcastic friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea,
+Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced
+up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and
+he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She
+quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It
+rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a
+walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up
+the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess,
+as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though
+he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he
+paid no attention to her.
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want
+to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...'
+
+She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an
+expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and
+again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances
+with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.
+
+Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed
+her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the
+delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame
+Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the
+previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before.
+
+'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence.
+
+'Pelouse et Frémy, _Notions générales_,' answered Bazarov. 'I might
+though recommend you also Ganot, _Traité élémentaire de physique
+éxpérimentale_. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in
+general it's a text-book.'
+
+Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg
+your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I
+wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so
+suddenly.... It will not bore you ...'
+
+'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about
+last night?'
+
+Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov.
+
+'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By
+the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even
+when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a
+conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of
+some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual
+happiness--such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is
+it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?'
+
+'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied
+Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I
+certainly never have such ideas come into my head.'
+
+'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?'
+
+'No; but they don't come into my head.'
+
+'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think
+about?'
+
+'What? I don't understand.'
+
+'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to
+tell you--you are conscious of it yourself--that you are not an
+ordinary man; you are still young--all life is before you. What are you
+preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to
+say--what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to?
+What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?'
+
+'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying
+natural science, and who I ...'
+
+'Well, who are you?'
+
+'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district
+doctor.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience.
+
+'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might
+answer me in that way, but not you.'
+
+'Why, in what is Arkady ...'
+
+'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble
+career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't
+believe in medicine? You--with your ambition--a district doctor! You
+answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in
+me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you;
+I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps
+through the same trials as you.'
+
+'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ...
+I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a
+rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...'
+
+'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat?
+No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to
+you ...'
+
+'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to
+talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not
+depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something--so much the
+better; and if it doesn't turn up--at least one will be glad one didn't
+gossip idly about it beforehand.'
+
+'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you
+consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise
+us all.'
+
+'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.'
+
+'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your
+disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking
+place within you now ...'
+
+'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of
+government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and
+besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in
+him?'
+
+'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in
+your heart.'
+
+'Can _you_?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation.
+
+Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went
+on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for
+nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this--what should I
+say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.'
+
+'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the
+reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within
+me?'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at
+the time understand.
+
+'And you will not be angry?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then
+that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it
+out of me.'
+
+Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning
+with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard;
+his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of
+youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that
+possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and
+painful--passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame
+Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him.
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious
+tenderness in her voice.
+
+He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both
+her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast.
+
+She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant
+later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at
+Bazarov. He rushed at her ...
+
+'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It
+seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov
+bit his lips, and went out.
+
+Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it
+consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till
+to-morrow?'
+
+'Why should you go? I did not understand you--you did not understand
+me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did
+not understand myself either.'
+
+She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro
+in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the
+looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on
+which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what
+had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether
+she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but
+I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed
+crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at
+her....
+
+'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back
+her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown
+back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and
+lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself
+was confused....
+
+'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to;
+he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the
+world.'
+
+Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a
+few tears once though she could not have said why--certainly not for
+the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined
+to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the
+sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself
+to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and
+had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or
+revolting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to
+every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the
+dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however.
+Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he
+had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them
+that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to
+wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed
+on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and
+diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a
+grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not
+stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding,
+with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every
+feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went
+with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted
+to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went
+up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely--
+
+'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with
+me.'
+
+'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame
+Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.'
+
+'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position,
+you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go
+away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be
+gone.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...'
+
+'Why am I going away?'
+
+'No; I didn't mean to say that.'
+
+'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound
+to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only
+conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition
+will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you
+never will love me, I suppose?'
+
+Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows.
+
+Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed
+through her brain.
+
+'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and
+he went back into the house.
+
+Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she
+took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did
+not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all
+accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and
+looked on at her as all young people look on--that's to say, he was
+constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut
+himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna
+longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to
+address him....
+
+An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward
+announced the arrival of Sitnikov.
+
+It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the
+young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with
+his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the
+country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited
+him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such
+talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless
+trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the
+apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he
+muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to
+inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too,
+having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he
+faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down
+on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna
+Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon
+recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the
+commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained
+tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by
+recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance
+everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more
+solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual.
+
+'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to
+Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are
+you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.'
+For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had
+sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable
+sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions.
+
+'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov.
+
+Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised,
+and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that
+why you're sad?'
+
+Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.'
+
+'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady.
+
+'What about Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'I mean, will she let you go?'
+
+'I'm not her paid man.'
+
+Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face
+to the wall.
+
+Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly.
+
+'Well?'
+
+'I will leave with you to-morrow too.'
+
+Bazarov made no answer.
+
+'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as
+Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be
+delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of
+being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of
+course?'
+
+'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning
+round.
+
+'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?'
+thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he
+pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his
+own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He
+felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so
+accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something
+has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it
+be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm
+losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna
+Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely
+image of the young widow.
+
+'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which
+a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and
+said aloud--
+
+'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?'
+
+Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the
+following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are
+indispensable to us. I--do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's
+not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'...
+
+'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the
+fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I
+gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.'
+
+Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the
+next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed.
+Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as
+to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it.
+Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only
+just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this
+occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the
+man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with
+him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a
+few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse,
+and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he
+proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him.
+
+'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man,
+turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take
+your coach, so it will be even more convenient.'
+
+'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my
+place.'
+
+'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business
+in that direction.'
+
+'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously.
+
+But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh
+as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he
+muttered; 'and there will be room for all.'
+
+'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna.
+
+Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly.
+
+The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov,
+Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet
+again, shan't we?'
+
+'As you command,' answered Bazarov.
+
+'In that case, we shall.'
+
+Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's
+carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have
+killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears.
+
+Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady
+waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the
+horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to
+Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.'
+
+'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth.
+
+Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his
+carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these
+words; while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage,
+took his seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former
+fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was
+soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his
+coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the
+off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two
+passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town,
+where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's,
+he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.'
+
+When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand
+warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though
+Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence.
+He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had
+eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner,
+stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to
+his eyebrows.
+
+'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I
+say, is my tongue yellow?'
+
+'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.'
+
+'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady.
+
+'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother--my
+mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and
+eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's
+known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added,
+and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road.
+
+'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the
+box, a labourer of Fedot's.
+
+But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know--miles hereabout aren't
+measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for
+'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down.
+
+'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an
+instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a
+thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must
+go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his
+life.'
+
+'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady.
+
+'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both
+behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've
+noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his
+illness--he's sure to get over it.'
+
+'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought
+you had nothing to complain of.'
+
+'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this--to my
+mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman
+have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all
+...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word,
+'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't
+believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine
+society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that
+is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man
+hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says
+an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he
+added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box--'you've a wife?'
+
+The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face.
+
+'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.'
+
+'Do you beat her?'
+
+'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good
+reason!'
+
+'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?'
+
+The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say,
+sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended.
+
+'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's
+what comes of being educated people.'
+
+Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open
+his mouth again the whole journey.
+
+The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the
+slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's
+parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small
+house with a thatched roof.
+
+Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each
+other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking
+pig.'
+
+'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other.
+
+'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and
+the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's
+peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming
+out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he;
+it's he--I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor
+chap!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out
+behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the
+little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a
+thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was
+standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his
+eyes to keep the sun out of them.
+
+The horses stopped.
+
+'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though
+the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get
+out; get out; let me hug you.'
+
+He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a
+trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway
+was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short
+striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen,
+had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly
+twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there
+was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.
+
+Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever.
+
+'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said,
+exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach,
+while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at
+all necessary, please give over.'
+
+'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear
+one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew
+her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little
+away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking
+eyes, and again fell on his neck.
+
+'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented
+Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come
+with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and
+scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well,
+a mother's heart ...'
+
+His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering
+... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost
+indifferent.
+
+'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled
+old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he
+once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him.
+
+'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is
+done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm
+yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill
+of you.'
+
+'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your
+father's I haven't the honour of knowing....'
+
+'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice.
+
+'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her
+nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one
+eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should
+die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.'
+
+'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of
+thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at
+the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water--on a tray, do you
+hear?--and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned
+playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.'
+
+'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna.
+Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!'
+
+'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but he's a man, as the saying is, _ommfay_. And now I hope, Arina
+Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn
+your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because,
+as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.'
+
+The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the
+samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I
+have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is
+that nothing?'
+
+'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while
+you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay
+his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old
+dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.'
+
+And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping
+with his slippers trodden down at heel.
+
+His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them--the one to
+which he led our friends--was called the study. A thick-legged table,
+littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust
+as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two
+windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps,
+some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in
+hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa,
+torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge
+cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds,
+jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner
+stood a broken galvanic battery.
+
+'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch,
+'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....'
+
+'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted.
+'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no
+butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?'
+
+'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge;
+he will be very comfortable there.'
+
+'Have you had a lodge put up then?'
+
+'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch.
+
+'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's
+summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements;
+and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I
+shall of course offer my study. _Suum cuique_.'
+
+'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,'
+remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a
+queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.'
+
+'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give
+us.'
+
+'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?'
+observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box.
+
+'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the
+moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.'
+
+'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly.
+
+'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I
+remember.'
+
+'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure.
+
+The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared.
+'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried
+triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is
+your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come
+in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair
+of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I
+repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great
+things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?'
+
+'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady.
+
+'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but
+in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.'
+
+'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd
+much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in
+face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider,
+and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his
+coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and
+gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a
+kind of nonchalant immobility.
+
+'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine,
+Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by
+making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain
+that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far
+as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk
+handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's
+room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now
+alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not
+inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and
+given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty;
+common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors
+do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.'
+
+'Yes; I see you have here _The Friend of Health_ for 1855,' remarked
+Bazarov.
+
+'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch
+made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of
+phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to
+Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided
+into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and
+Rademacher.'
+
+'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked
+Bazarov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course,
+gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here
+to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a
+Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism--they
+seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great
+men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of
+Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years
+it will be his turn to be laughed at.'
+
+'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that
+nowadays we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any
+one.'
+
+'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?'
+
+'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little
+smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps--I am not going
+to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, _volla-too_; now fate has
+made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he
+addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights
+in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into
+contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you
+now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They
+were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here
+Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but
+my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything
+else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real
+soldier.'
+
+'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily.
+
+'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of
+course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...'
+
+'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving
+along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little
+garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and
+raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young
+gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: _in herbis
+verbis et lapidibus_.... I've retired from practice, you know, of
+course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought
+back to my old work. They come for advice--I can't drive them away.
+Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are
+no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired
+major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question,
+"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he
+does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What
+do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely.
+
+'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily
+Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had
+gone _ad patres_; the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no
+longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and
+asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he
+hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back
+again. Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his
+face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way
+for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out
+to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and
+clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must
+be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife
+will give you more satisfaction.'
+
+The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even
+abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost
+black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known
+merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were
+a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them
+away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch
+had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger
+generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a
+high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke
+down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband
+had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears
+herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate
+anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago.
+Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the
+first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and
+one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper,
+poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down
+during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively
+beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at
+Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina
+Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat;
+leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the
+little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple
+good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take
+her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to
+know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him.
+
+'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After
+the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned
+with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we
+do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive
+occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass,
+proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off
+his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her
+wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for
+preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his
+duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly
+made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once
+smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and
+cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to
+admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he
+whispered to Arkady--
+
+'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a
+recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some
+of the trees beloved of Horace.'
+
+'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing.
+
+'Oh ... acacias.'
+
+Bazarov began to yawn.
+
+'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,'
+observed Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea.
+It is time, certainly.'
+
+As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead,
+while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her
+blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room,
+and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.'
+And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was
+a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each
+other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's
+room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was
+looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him
+away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With
+wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories
+of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had
+time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina
+Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long,
+long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her
+mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a
+mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and
+wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a
+wave of his hand gave it up in despair.
+
+Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times;
+she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days.
+She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling,
+charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the
+prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in
+unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate
+specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of
+the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights
+did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of
+buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked
+on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where
+there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his
+breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of
+leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats,
+of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and
+dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese,
+asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut
+water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she
+could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating--and fasted
+rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four--and never went to
+bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had
+never read a single book except _Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest_;
+she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in
+housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she
+never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her
+place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all
+stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it
+is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them--and so
+she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but
+she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a
+single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one,
+though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had
+played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of
+many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against
+her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son
+she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of
+the property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere in
+anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her
+eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began
+to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was
+apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began
+to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are
+not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met
+his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt
+round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging
+in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his
+spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?'
+
+'Capitally,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for
+late turnips. The time has come now--and thank God for it!--when every
+one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to
+reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean
+Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman,
+you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant
+woman, who complained of looseness--that's how they express it, but in
+our language, dysentery--I ... how can I express it best? I
+administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an
+anæsthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do
+_gratis_--_anamatyer_ (_en amateur_). I'm used to it, though; you see,
+I'm a plebeian, _homo novus_--not one of the old stock, not like my
+spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to
+breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?'
+
+Arkady went out to him.
+
+'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a
+military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I
+know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones
+of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage
+roof.'
+
+'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great
+ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.'
+
+'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite
+simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the
+world too--I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a
+psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I
+will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to
+grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I
+tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I
+observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he
+usually does--no doubt you are aware of it--very early, and went a
+ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire--have you known my
+son long?'
+
+'Since last winter.'
+
+'Indeed. And permit me to question you further--but hadn't we better
+sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your
+opinion of my Yevgeny?'
+
+'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady
+answered emphatically.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were
+suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand.
+
+'And so you expect,' he began ...
+
+'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future
+before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of
+that ever since I first met him.'
+
+'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort.
+His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave
+it.
+
+'Would you like me to tell you how we met?'
+
+'Yes ... and altogether....'
+
+Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater
+warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he
+danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his
+handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat,
+ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down
+to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly
+happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ...
+idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of--we all know what mothers
+are!--but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't
+like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many
+people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and
+regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him
+ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here,
+for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a
+constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never
+from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help,
+that's God's truth!'
+
+'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady
+Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that
+some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son
+of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his
+greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old
+man's voice broke.
+
+Arkady pressed his hand.
+
+'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short
+silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the
+celebrity you anticipate for him?'
+
+'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be
+one of the leading scientific men.'
+
+'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?'
+
+'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.'
+
+'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie.
+
+'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka,
+coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the
+raspberries?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some
+more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?'
+
+'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a
+visit to your friend; but you were too late, _amice_, and we have
+already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea,
+mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.'
+
+'What about?'
+
+'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus....
+
+'You mean jaundice?'
+
+'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed
+him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him
+soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more
+decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you
+can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come
+in to tea.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed
+from _Robert le Diable_--
+
+  'The rule, the rule we set ourselves,
+   To live, to live for pleasure!'
+
+'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window.
+
+It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken
+whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks
+crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one
+who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere,
+high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk.
+Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under
+themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and
+fragrant grass.
+
+'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows
+at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those
+days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a
+peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not
+understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now
+I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.'
+
+'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life,
+wandering from town to town for the most part.'
+
+'And has this house been standing long?'
+
+'Yes. My grandfather built it--my mother's father.'
+
+'Who was he--your grandfather?'
+
+'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always
+telling stories about the crossing of the Alps--inventions probably.'
+
+'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like
+these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned;
+and there's always a special sort of scent about them.'
+
+'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the
+flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!'
+
+'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with
+you when you were a child?'
+
+'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.'
+
+'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?'
+
+'I am, Arkady.'
+
+'How fond they are of you!'
+
+Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?'
+he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head.
+
+'No. What is it?'
+
+'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty
+is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring
+people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants--having a
+festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful
+of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to
+think of herself; while I ...'
+
+'While you?'
+
+'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so
+infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am
+not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in
+which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I
+have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical
+point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting
+something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?'
+
+'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.'
+
+'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now--my
+parents, I mean--are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their
+own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing
+but weariness and anger.'
+
+'Anger? why anger?'
+
+'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?'
+
+'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right
+to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...'
+
+'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all
+modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the
+hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough
+of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned
+over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a
+half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her
+resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the
+sentiment of pity--make the most of it--not like us conscientious
+self-destructive animals!'
+
+'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?'
+
+Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I
+haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over!
+You shall not hear another word from me about it.'
+
+Both the friends lay for some time in silence.
+
+'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side
+view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here,
+one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are
+acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not,
+you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only
+to abuse them.'
+
+'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of
+significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively.
+
+'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one
+could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness,
+pettiness, that's what's insufferable.'
+
+'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise
+it.'
+
+'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.'
+
+'What? What do you mean by that term?'
+
+'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial,
+that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a
+common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to
+say, but in reality it's one and the same.'
+
+'And the truth is--where, which side?'
+
+'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?'
+
+'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.'
+
+'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't
+stand so many raspberries either.'
+
+'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's
+asleep.'
+
+'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?'
+
+'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real
+man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey
+or hate.'
+
+'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's
+thought.
+
+'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how
+could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself
+much.'
+
+'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have
+you a high opinion of yourself?'
+
+Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he
+said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of
+myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our
+bailiff Philip's cottage--it's the one that's so nice and clean--well,
+you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a
+house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it
+about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this
+Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and
+who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why,
+suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing
+out of me,--well what do I gain by it?'
+
+'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to
+agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.'
+
+'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles--you've not
+made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on
+them.'
+
+'How so?'
+
+'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my
+sensations; I like to deny--my brain's made on that plan, and that's
+all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?--by
+virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men
+will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I
+shan't tell you so another time.'
+
+'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?'
+
+'I should rather think so.'
+
+'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ...
+
+'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother.
+If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your
+own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the
+silence of sleep," said Pushkin.'
+
+'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady.
+
+'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have--and ought to have said
+it. By the way, he must have been a military man.'
+
+'Pushkin never was a military man!'
+
+'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's
+honour!"'
+
+'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.'
+
+'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me
+with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he
+deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.'
+
+'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation.
+
+'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them
+slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men.
+Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another
+in silence.
+
+'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is
+falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's
+flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay--like brightness and life.'
+
+'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat
+of you; no fine talk.'
+
+'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An
+idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?'
+
+'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's
+positively indecent.'
+
+'And what is decent? Abuse?'
+
+'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's
+footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had
+heard you!'
+
+'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?'
+
+'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.'
+
+'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady.
+
+'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've
+noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up
+everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his
+brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief--that's too
+much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine--and
+no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.'
+
+'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least
+family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a
+sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't
+judge of it.'
+
+'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I
+bow down before him and say no more.'
+
+'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.'
+
+'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once
+in earnest....'
+
+'But then perhaps we should end by ...'
+
+'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic
+surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't
+matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a
+minute.'
+
+Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and
+prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck
+him as so vindictive--there was such menace in grim earnest in the
+smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt
+instinctively afraid.
+
+'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch
+was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared
+before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a
+straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere
+for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're
+excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you
+know, there's a special significance in that?'
+
+'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled
+Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he
+interrupted us.'
+
+'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's
+hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks.
+
+'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying
+meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather
+cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a
+top,--'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much
+strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents!
+Positively, a Castor and Pollux!'
+
+'Get along with you--going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You
+can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to
+remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose--didn't you?'
+
+'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.'
+
+'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man.
+'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you
+compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to
+you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare
+you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you
+know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother
+wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must
+not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving--it is
+over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...'
+
+'The village parson?'
+
+'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not
+anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came
+about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna
+... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.'
+
+'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!'
+
+'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I
+spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I,
+an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not
+dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service.
+He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much
+wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's
+no objection even to cards, and he sometimes--but this is between
+ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.'
+
+'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean
+him out.'
+
+'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.'
+
+'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush.
+
+'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to
+acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I
+have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you.
+I shan't be in your way, I hope?'
+
+'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your
+present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military
+bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a
+haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many,
+many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will
+tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.'
+
+'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we
+know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?'
+
+'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily
+Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked
+off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague.
+'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing
+to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on
+aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.'
+
+Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed
+hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared
+to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the
+first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding
+beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself
+in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own
+dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at
+the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small
+glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but
+did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The
+only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly
+raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his
+face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the
+green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms,
+and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper
+money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of
+Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did
+not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she
+only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to
+caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her
+caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to
+'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,'
+he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that
+day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the
+bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and
+crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the
+peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly
+on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was
+to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be
+seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness.
+
+Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression
+of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some
+short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently
+laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm.
+
+'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?'
+
+'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh.
+
+'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were
+compassionately, and he stroked his beard.
+
+'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch, leading an ace.
+
+'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he
+trumped the ace.
+
+'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina
+Vlasyevna.
+
+Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders.
+
+'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm
+bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place
+again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at
+any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study
+is at your disposal--nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time
+he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself
+away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing
+the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to
+say to her.'
+
+'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.'
+
+'I shall come back again to them.'
+
+'When?'
+
+'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.'
+
+'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.'
+
+'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?'
+
+Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny.
+She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This
+morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly,
+interestingly.'
+
+'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?'
+
+'We didn't talk only about you.'
+
+'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's
+conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.'
+
+'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always
+making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.'
+
+'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day;
+he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite
+right too--yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror--he did
+quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father
+had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was
+greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever....
+Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!'
+
+Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could
+make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At
+last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he
+observed, with a feigned yawn--
+
+'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our
+horses to-morrow.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?'
+
+'Yes; and I'm going with him.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?'
+
+'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.'
+
+'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ...
+only ... only.... How is it?'
+
+'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again
+later.'
+
+'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his
+handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground.
+'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with
+us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather
+little; rather little, Yevgeny!'
+
+'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to
+go.'
+
+'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in
+readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this.
+She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to
+decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention
+that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch,
+standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with
+trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged
+him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to
+eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men
+liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I
+don't want to hamper you ... not ...'
+
+He suddenly ceased, and made for the door.
+
+'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.'
+
+But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand
+and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed,
+and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up.
+She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked.
+
+'Yes, mother.'
+
+'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being
+comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your
+travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our
+feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....'
+
+'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have
+mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice.
+Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell
+her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her.
+
+Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was
+dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands;
+even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots.
+Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to
+put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but
+his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his
+son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and
+could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent
+two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after
+repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's
+time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took
+his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was
+ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer
+any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch,
+all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room;
+when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed
+suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the
+steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He
+has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was
+dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina
+Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey
+head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece
+cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his
+pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we
+sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you
+unchanged for ever, as you for me.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife,
+his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted
+him in his grief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our
+friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased
+with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that
+causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The
+coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired,
+'To the right or to the left?'
+
+Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there
+home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's.
+
+He looked at Bazarov.
+
+'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?'
+
+Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered.
+
+'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter?
+It's not the first time.'
+
+Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at
+last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady.
+
+The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having
+resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent
+than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured.
+
+Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house,
+the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving
+way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected.
+They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the
+drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them
+with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return;
+and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures
+and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce
+that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the
+town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation,
+begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The
+princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even
+more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her
+room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see
+Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in
+insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both
+listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that
+her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive.
+
+'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay
+attention to that, and come again--I say this to both of you--before
+long.'
+
+Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats
+in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home
+to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following
+day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other
+even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular,
+scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away
+from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity.
+
+At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The
+prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch
+uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa,
+dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and
+informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel
+Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and
+smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers.
+Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper,
+which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up
+some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and
+partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he
+kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the
+servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down
+like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr
+was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a
+Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and
+plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small
+preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts;
+nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the
+world.
+
+But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and
+poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on
+the farm sprang up every day--senseless, distressing difficulties. The
+troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked
+for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while
+others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses
+fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work
+was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from
+Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was
+ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt
+down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with
+a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true,
+maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan
+of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer
+suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat
+when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch
+in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a
+half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was
+generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did
+not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber;
+almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows
+of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch
+would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after
+the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their
+returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling
+among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their
+wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the
+squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the
+whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the
+master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and
+judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the
+women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the
+contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while
+that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were
+not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the
+most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for
+a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most
+shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the
+corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with
+the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded
+prompt payment, in full, of interest due....
+
+'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair.
+'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my
+principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them
+without the fear of punishment!'
+
+'_Du calme_, _du calme_,' Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but
+even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his
+moustache.
+
+Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not
+for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival
+at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his
+chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the
+contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to
+make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing,
+and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted
+upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any
+aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the
+land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady,
+to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former
+days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told
+him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov--and
+that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get
+away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use.
+In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai
+Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by
+Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he
+got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in
+twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these
+half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though
+he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go.
+'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering--she had
+added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled
+the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and
+timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the
+secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without
+the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten
+days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying
+the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again,
+and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission,
+he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both
+frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The
+great thing is--one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His
+driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public
+house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when
+he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the
+familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through
+Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses
+galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now
+the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue
+of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of
+a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under
+the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she
+recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses,
+leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried,
+gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the
+garden; she will be pleased to see you.'
+
+Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a
+particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she
+were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no
+steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight
+of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing
+footsteps, she turned slowly round.
+
+Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him
+at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing
+voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and
+wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?'
+
+'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you
+certainly don't expect.'
+
+'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to
+understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object
+of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was
+overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel
+Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively
+aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more
+in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel
+Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the _nihilist_ on the subject
+of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the
+Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking
+with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I,
+at least, have not the honour of understanding you.'
+
+'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding
+anything--how the æther vibrates, and what's going on in the sun--but
+how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's
+incapable of understanding.'
+
+'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and
+he walked away.
+
+However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's
+experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the
+very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria
+swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort
+of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited
+Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as
+he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken
+off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific
+researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and
+look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet
+question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the
+conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other
+topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if
+not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai
+Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less.
+An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The
+cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the
+neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself.
+In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms.
+He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's
+skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question,
+'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but
+scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said
+yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov
+went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in
+Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his
+heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka.
+
+He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the
+garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her,
+and she had only once been to his door to inquire--ought she to let
+Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him,
+that she was not afraid of him--she was positively freer and more at
+her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch
+himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because
+she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all
+that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he
+was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her
+baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly
+attacked with giddiness and headache--she took a spoonful of medicine
+from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a
+distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but
+from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more
+afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would
+suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth
+behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face,
+and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on
+one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in
+response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the
+least suspicion of the fact, had become the _cruel tyrant_ of her
+heart.
+
+Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively
+transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind
+expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of
+jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There
+is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand
+and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka.
+Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and
+whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she
+could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and
+ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected
+in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work;
+her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at
+all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic
+helplessness.
+
+'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had
+made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which
+had not yet quite disappeared.
+
+'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's
+utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no
+shade in the garden.'
+
+'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing
+his forehead.
+
+One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk,
+came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering,
+but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and
+had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a
+whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good
+morning to her.
+
+'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her
+kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare
+to the elbow.
+
+'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are
+you making a nosegay?'
+
+'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.'
+
+'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!'
+
+'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out.
+One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm
+really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.'
+
+'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for
+the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs.
+'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand.
+
+'Ah, God forbid!' she cried.
+
+'Why? Don't you want a long life?'
+
+'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five
+years old--and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and
+coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a
+dreadful life!'
+
+'So it's better to be young?'
+
+'Well, isn't it?'
+
+'But why is it better? Tell me!'
+
+'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do
+everything--go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for
+anything.... What can be better?'
+
+'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.'
+
+'How do you mean--it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.'
+
+'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to
+me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...'
+
+'That always depends on you.'
+
+'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity
+on me.'
+
+Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's
+this book you have?' she asked after a short pause.
+
+'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.'
+
+'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know
+everything already I should say.'
+
+'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.'
+
+'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka,
+taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!'
+
+'Yes, it's Russian.'
+
+'All the same, I shan't understand anything.'
+
+'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look
+at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little
+nose moves so nicely.'
+
+Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article
+on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ...
+it slipped from the seat on to the ground.
+
+'Nonsense!'
+
+'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov.
+
+'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.'
+
+Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she
+commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you
+care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.'
+
+'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world
+are not worth your little elbow.'
+
+'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her
+hands.
+
+Bazarov picked the book up from the ground.
+
+'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?'
+
+'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you
+know, ever since you gave me those drops--do you remember?--Mitya has
+slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good,
+really.'
+
+'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors,
+you know yourself, are grasping people.'
+
+Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish
+reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov.
+She did not know whether he was joking or not.
+
+'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai
+Petrovitch ...'
+
+'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want
+money from you.'
+
+'What then?' asked Fenitchka.
+
+'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!'
+
+'A likely person I am to guess!'
+
+'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.'
+
+Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing
+Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt
+flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her.
+
+'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she
+began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have--a red one or a
+white one?'
+
+'Red, and not too large.'
+
+She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her
+outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of
+the arbour, then listened.
+
+'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?'
+
+'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid
+of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...'
+
+'What?'
+
+'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.'
+Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose.
+
+'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?'
+
+'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember,
+you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was
+about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.'
+
+Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel
+Petrovitch about.
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you
+stand up for me?'
+
+'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of
+you.'
+
+'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it
+liked.'
+
+'What hand?'
+
+'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you
+gave me.'
+
+Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to
+the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders;
+her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible.
+
+'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent
+down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips.
+
+She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but
+pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss.
+
+A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly
+moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed
+himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious
+mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered
+up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you,
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of
+genuine reproach in her whisper.
+
+Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and
+contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically
+congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay
+Lothario,' and went off to his own room.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with
+deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and
+when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously
+whether he were quite well--his face looked so gloomy.
+
+'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered
+tranquilly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door.
+
+'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he
+began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both
+hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked
+without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five
+minutes of your time ... no more.'
+
+'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face
+there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch
+crossed the threshold.
+
+'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single
+question to you.'
+
+'A question? What is it about?'
+
+'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement
+of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure
+of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many
+subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my
+presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general
+broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?'
+
+Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge
+of the table and folded his arms.
+
+'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling
+is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now--it's quite a different
+matter.'
+
+'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever
+your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow
+yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?'
+
+'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.'
+
+'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me
+from a state of incertitude.'
+
+'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.'
+
+'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ...
+am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable
+necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.'
+
+Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?'
+
+'Undoubtedly.'
+
+'But what for, pray?'
+
+'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I
+prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is
+superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not
+enough for you ...'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing.
+
+'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a
+whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this
+pleasure, but--so be it!'
+
+'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and
+may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to
+resort to violent measures.'
+
+'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov
+remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for
+you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding.
+You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a
+gentleman.'
+
+'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in
+the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of
+our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it
+necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might
+serve as a pretext for my challenge?'
+
+'No; it's better without formalities.'
+
+'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the
+real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more
+is necessary?'
+
+'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically.
+
+'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall
+have no seconds--for where could we get them?'
+
+'Exactly so; where could we get them?'
+
+'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you:
+The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind
+the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....'
+
+'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.'
+
+'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'We might.'
+
+'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter
+in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.'
+
+'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a
+slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very
+plausible.'
+
+'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur
+a suspicion of murder?'
+
+'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful
+reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.'
+
+'And whom, allow me to inquire?'
+
+'Why, Piotr.'
+
+'What Piotr?'
+
+'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of
+contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the
+_comilfo_ (_comme il faut_) necessary in such cases.'
+
+'I think you are joking, sir.'
+
+'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced
+that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle
+under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting
+manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.'
+
+'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up
+from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I
+have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is
+arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?'
+
+'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.'
+
+'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five
+years now since I shot with them.'
+
+'That's a very consoling piece of news.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only
+remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have
+the honour to take leave of you.'
+
+'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said
+Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute
+before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how
+fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained
+dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the
+question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov
+turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at
+once)--'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He
+went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the
+composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught
+sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on
+his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it--a kiss? There
+must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her
+himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a
+complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job,
+look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet
+through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ...
+and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an
+awfully bad job.'
+
+The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka
+gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse
+in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard
+that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in
+particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one,
+even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his
+father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table.
+
+'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to
+die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He
+gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning
+directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to
+Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he
+was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in
+them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with
+black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel
+Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to
+fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went
+out with him.
+
+It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in
+little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on
+the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs;
+the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from
+the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov
+walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only
+then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him.
+The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the
+assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and
+look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And
+meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to
+play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a
+birch-tree, looking green with terror.
+
+The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it,
+untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov
+unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of
+grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!'
+The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked
+at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid.
+
+The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came
+into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses
+hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather
+strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed
+Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,'
+thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...'
+
+'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly.
+
+Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light
+check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the
+road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth.
+
+'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed,
+bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at
+that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I
+was unwilling to wake my man.'
+
+'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived
+ourselves.'
+
+'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's
+no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?'
+
+'Let us proceed.'
+
+'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols
+out of the box.
+
+'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,'
+added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as
+though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther
+off.'
+
+'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may
+get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your
+eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ...
+eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel
+Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?'
+
+'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet.
+
+'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground
+with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how
+many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important
+question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.'
+
+'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both
+pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?'
+
+'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is
+singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our
+second.'
+
+'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch.
+'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to
+warn you that I intend to fight seriously. _A bon entendeur, salut!_'
+
+'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each
+other; but why not laugh too and unite _utile dulci_? You talk to me in
+French, while I talk to you in Latin.'
+
+'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he
+walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from
+the barrier, and stood still.
+
+'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Perfectly.'
+
+'We can approach one another.'
+
+Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand
+thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle
+of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov,
+'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable
+sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.'
+
+Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant
+there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,'
+had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and
+without taking aim, pressed the spring.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A
+stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers.
+
+Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you
+wounded?' he said.
+
+'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel
+Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement,
+each of us has the right to one more shot.'
+
+'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov,
+catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale.
+'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your
+wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got
+to?'
+
+'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch
+declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at
+his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost
+consciousness.
+
+'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried
+unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a
+look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood,
+and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he
+muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle,
+_vastus externus_, grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!...
+And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what
+a delicate skin!'
+
+'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his
+back.
+
+Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good
+fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.'
+
+But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did
+not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!'
+whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself.
+
+'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded
+gentleman with a forced smile.
+
+'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov.
+
+'No need.... It was a momentary _vertigo_.... Help me to sit up ...
+there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch,
+and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The
+duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved
+honourably ... to-day, to-day--observe.'
+
+'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards
+the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about
+that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your
+leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop
+bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.'
+
+Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky.
+
+'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him;
+'don't dream of informing him.'
+
+Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two
+antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried
+not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any
+case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was
+ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt
+it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate,
+there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for
+that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing
+and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the
+other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very
+unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is
+impossible either to have things out or to separate.
+
+'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last.
+
+'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a
+brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have
+to tell him we quarrelled over politics.'
+
+'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all
+anglomaniacs.'
+
+'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us
+now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had
+driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel,
+and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of
+the 'gentlefolk.'
+
+'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing.
+The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs.
+Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't
+understand himself!'
+
+'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he
+cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother
+galloping up to us!'
+
+Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who
+was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped,
+and rushed up to his brother.
+
+'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?'
+
+'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for
+nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay
+for it a little.'
+
+'But what was it all about, mercy on us!'
+
+'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert
+Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all
+this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.'
+
+'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!'
+
+'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting
+is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get
+into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite
+well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining
+where he was....
+
+'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to
+him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.'
+
+Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel
+Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The
+whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and
+joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric
+night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the
+blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of
+being kept from food.
+
+Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The
+doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to
+his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the
+whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in
+to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to
+meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new
+doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's
+assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his
+brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded,
+'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on
+the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often
+happens, to be sure.'
+
+No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the
+latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, _Couchez-vous_, and
+asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a
+glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank
+off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased
+a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered
+incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his
+brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you
+think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?'
+
+'What Nellie, Pavel dear?'
+
+'How can you ask? Princess R----. Especially in the upper part of the
+face. _C'est de la même famille._'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the
+persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to
+the surface,' he thought.
+
+'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch,
+clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any
+insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes
+later.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these
+words referred.
+
+Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He
+had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects,
+and birds.
+
+'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting
+up to meet him.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of
+course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that
+he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you
+could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained
+by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai
+Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is
+a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that
+it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid
+publicity.'
+
+'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov
+remarked casually.
+
+'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry
+your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the
+more distressing to me through Arkady's ...'
+
+'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom
+'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a
+feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to
+him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.'
+
+'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off
+without waiting for the end of his sentence.
+
+When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire
+to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as
+ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous.
+He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged
+glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking
+dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But
+who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however,
+was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him
+by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha
+was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The
+originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and
+when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm,
+with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and
+muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a
+week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though
+he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with
+eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals;
+Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled
+eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went
+into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every
+one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only
+person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day
+used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they
+used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence.
+
+Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented
+at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel
+Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back
+was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant
+inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more
+charming.
+
+One day--the incident took place in the morning--Pavel Petrovitch felt
+better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch,
+having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the
+threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it
+down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch
+detained her.
+
+'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began;
+'are you busy?'
+
+'... I have to pour out tea.'
+
+'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor
+invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.'
+
+Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking.
+
+'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have
+long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?'
+
+'I?'
+
+'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at
+rest.'
+
+Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her
+as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly.
+
+'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her.
+
+'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered.
+
+'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is
+not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something
+incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?'
+
+'I love him.'
+
+'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?'
+
+'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.'
+
+'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called
+her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!'
+
+'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai
+Petrovitch--I shouldn't care to live after that.'
+
+'And will you never give him up for any one?'
+
+'For whom could I give him up?'
+
+'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away
+from here?'
+
+Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me
+for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'...
+
+'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I
+saw ...'
+
+'What did you see?'
+
+'Well, there ... in the arbour.'
+
+Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame
+for that?' she articulated with an effort.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at
+all?'
+
+'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall
+always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat
+seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful
+day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for
+it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a
+thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.'
+
+But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel
+Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him,
+and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his
+eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large
+solitary tear was rolling down his cheek.
+
+'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my
+brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to
+any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be
+loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!'
+
+Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was
+her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel
+Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into
+it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to
+time....
+
+'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'...
+
+At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him.
+
+The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed
+her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door
+opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy.
+Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little
+shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his
+rough country coat with his little bare toes.
+
+Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son
+together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai
+Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka,
+had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person.
+
+'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her
+Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel
+Petrovitch.
+
+He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on
+the contrary, I am much better.'
+
+'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you
+going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she
+had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young
+hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried
+him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between
+you, eh?'
+
+'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said
+why himself.
+
+'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will
+carry out my one request.'
+
+'What request? Tell me.'
+
+'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea,
+depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over
+what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an
+honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you
+are setting--you, the best of men!'
+
+'What do you mean, Pavel?'
+
+'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you
+say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined
+opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has
+simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so
+rightly call my duty?'
+
+'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch
+responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in
+accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry
+ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are
+old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds.
+Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness
+that way into the bargain.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother.
+
+'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always
+declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and
+now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.'
+
+'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the
+leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been
+fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter;
+Fenitchka is to be my ... _belle soeur_.'
+
+'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?'
+
+'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is
+against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will
+be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions _au
+dix-neuvième siècle_?'
+
+'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be
+careful.'
+
+The brothers embraced each other.
+
+'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?'
+queried Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any
+conversation between you?'
+
+'Conversation between us? _Quelle idée!_'
+
+'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and
+meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and
+consider ...'
+
+'But your mind is made up, I suppose?'
+
+'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my
+heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for
+you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God
+bless you!'
+
+'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when
+he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away
+directly he is married, somewhere a long way off--to Dresden or
+Florence, and will live there till I----'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed
+his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining
+full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man....
+And indeed he was a dead man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat
+in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground
+near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known
+among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were
+silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was
+picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and
+throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened
+impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet.
+A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold
+flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a
+patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to
+time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the
+very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting
+together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed
+not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in
+his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last;
+Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring.
+
+'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named
+in Russian _yasen_; no other tree is so lightly and brightly
+transparent (_yasno_) against the air as it is.'
+
+Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady
+thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for _talking finely_.'
+
+'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which
+Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he
+weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.'
+
+'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady.
+
+'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.'
+('Relics!' thought Arkady--'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a
+little; we shall transform you.'
+
+'Who will transform me? You?'
+
+'Who?--my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up
+quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before
+yesterday.'
+
+'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with
+Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?'
+
+'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.'
+
+'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his
+influence now?'
+
+Katya did not speak.
+
+'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.'
+
+'I can have no opinion about him.'
+
+'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I
+disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have
+an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.'
+
+'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like
+him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am
+different from him ... and you too are different from him.'
+
+'How's that?'
+
+'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.'
+
+'Am I tame too?'
+
+Katya nodded.
+
+Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you
+know, that's really an insult?'
+
+'Why, would you like to be a wild----'
+
+'Not wild, but strong, full of force.'
+
+'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish
+for it, but he has it.'
+
+'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya
+in a low voice.
+
+'Why do you think that?'
+
+'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her
+independence a great deal.'
+
+'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through
+his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to
+wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms,
+they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas.
+
+Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a
+whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.'
+
+'Of whom?'
+
+'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly.
+
+'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn.
+
+'I am too, observe I said, I am _too_.'
+
+Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began;
+'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so
+than when you first came.'
+
+'Really!'
+
+'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?'
+
+Arkady grew thoughtful.
+
+'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't
+it because I brought her your mother's letters?'
+
+'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'I shan't say.'
+
+'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.'
+
+'Yes, I am.'
+
+'And observant.'
+
+Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you?
+What are you thinking of?'
+
+'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you
+are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.'
+
+'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do
+I really keep every one at a distance?'
+
+Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya.
+
+'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position--I
+mean in your circumstances--don't often have that faculty; it is hard
+for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.'
+
+'But, you see, I am not rich.'
+
+Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of
+course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the
+thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he
+commented.
+
+'What?'
+
+'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of
+it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a
+kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says
+he is poor.'
+
+'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I
+only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.'
+
+'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just
+now.'
+
+'For instance?'
+
+'For instance, you--forgive the question--you wouldn't marry a rich
+man, I fancy, would you?'
+
+'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry
+him.'
+
+'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And
+why wouldn't you marry him?'
+
+'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.'
+
+'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...'
+
+'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only
+inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can
+understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've
+had enough of that as it is.'
+
+'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he
+went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just
+as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you
+wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however
+strong and holy it might be ...'
+
+'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya.
+
+'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than
+she.'
+
+'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly;
+'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's
+beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch,
+ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.'
+
+'What do you mean by "you in particular"--and what makes you suppose I
+am joking?'
+
+'Of course, you are joking.'
+
+'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I
+have not put it strongly enough even?'
+
+'I don't understand you.'
+
+'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant
+than you are.'
+
+'How?'
+
+Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few
+more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but
+she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping
+to pick them up.
+
+'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to
+you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your
+sister, but above every one in the world.'
+
+He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the
+words that had fallen from his lips.
+
+Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap,
+and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a
+crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not
+smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet
+undefined, feeling.
+
+'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I
+thought you came into the garden with Arkady.'
+
+Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately
+dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the
+tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.'
+
+'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his
+room.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Have you been reading together?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up.
+
+'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?'
+
+'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand.
+
+'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to
+suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for.
+They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I
+noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think
+enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are
+nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your
+little feet. But you're not vain.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her
+beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with
+her, went away too--but not to try on her shoes.
+
+'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted
+the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the
+sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at
+them.'
+
+But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly
+upstairs.
+
+Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken
+him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room.
+
+'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here
+long?'
+
+'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce
+him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.'
+
+'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running
+hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of
+Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very
+probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though
+still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over
+his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he
+did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations
+on his neck.
+
+'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating,
+bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes
+to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home;
+every one's well, eh?'
+
+'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov.
+'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and
+listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty
+vigorous sentences.'
+
+Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel
+Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he
+did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his
+uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that
+it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave
+a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were
+ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him.
+
+'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with
+feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find
+yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my
+father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to
+tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a
+piece of foolery. No, I turned in here--the devil only knows why. You
+see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the
+scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed;
+that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more
+look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.'
+
+'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some
+emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?'
+
+Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him.
+
+'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me _you_ have given me
+up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna
+Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.'
+
+'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By
+the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell
+me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage
+of discretion?'
+
+'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you,
+I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.'
+
+'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you
+needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A
+sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to
+part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.'
+
+'Yevgeny ...'
+
+'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much
+more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say
+good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a
+loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the
+governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the
+horses out.'
+
+'Upon my word, this is too much!'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last
+degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.'
+
+'Oh, you're mistaken there.'
+
+'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what
+are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on
+her account yourself?'
+
+'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.'
+
+But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a
+summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going
+to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able
+to get it out easily.
+
+Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so
+unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She
+held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an
+involuntary sense of tension.
+
+'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I
+must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come
+to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his
+follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will
+allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but
+cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me
+with repugnance.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high
+mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand
+a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure.
+
+'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so
+because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for
+flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was
+a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?'
+
+'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely
+imaginary feeling.'
+
+'Really? I am very glad to hear that.'
+
+So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they
+were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in
+their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could
+the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as
+though they completely believed one another.
+
+Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been
+doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his
+duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought
+that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and
+answered that he had been at work all the time.
+
+'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first,
+goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then
+it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into
+my old routine, and took up my real part again.'
+
+'What part is that, may I ask?'
+
+'The character of aunt, guardian, mother--call it what you like. By the
+way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship
+with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I
+have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's
+young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me,
+Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'
+
+'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she
+went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to
+avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's
+more friends with Katya.'
+
+Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he
+thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly
+smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with
+you?'
+
+'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips.
+
+'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you
+didn't know it, and I've told you something new?'
+
+Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch.'
+
+'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And
+don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to
+himself.
+
+'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much
+importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined
+to exaggeration.'
+
+'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.'
+
+'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into
+another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had
+told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she
+was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was
+jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So
+people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world
+as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch
+occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at
+once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm,
+betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger.
+
+Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began
+to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at
+last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess
+and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the
+house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an
+hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden
+himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin
+propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They
+were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna
+Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as
+once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to
+be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated
+'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up
+in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the
+fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall
+at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for
+statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These
+statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy,
+Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her
+finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day
+some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of
+the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as
+the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still
+to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood
+many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women.
+The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick
+bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense
+green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna
+had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake
+there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of
+the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to
+read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect
+peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in
+the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that
+flows for ever both around us and within us.
+
+The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite
+stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought
+her to come with him to the 'temple.'
+
+There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had
+already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the
+expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her
+sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room,
+and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a
+little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with
+Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to
+attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this,
+even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and
+Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of
+some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said
+to herself that it was for the last time.
+
+'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since
+I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have
+discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one,
+very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched
+upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed
+here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance
+Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and
+you know that better than any one else--you to whom I really owe this
+change.'
+
+'I?... Me?...' said Katya.
+
+'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went
+on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be
+useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer
+look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much
+closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself
+tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately,
+thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but
+I hope you understand me.'
+
+Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady.
+
+'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while
+above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of
+the birch--'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those
+... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him,
+and so I ... I resolved ...'
+
+But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread,
+stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did
+not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up
+to in all this, and to be waiting for something.
+
+'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself
+together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates
+in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you
+remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with
+the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking
+further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the
+hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed
+... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it;
+and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!'
+Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn
+her head.) 'If I could hope ...'
+
+'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the
+clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.
+
+Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes
+that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking
+along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but
+they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very
+breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood
+still just opposite the temple.
+
+'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are
+both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are
+tired; we are both--why affect not to know it?--clever; at first we
+interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...'
+
+'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however,
+it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point;
+there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We
+did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...'
+
+'So you need him?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me,
+and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his
+aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think
+more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special
+charm ...'
+
+'The word _fascination_ is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov
+interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his
+choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with
+me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a
+serious symptom.'
+
+'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and
+I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such
+intimacy between them.'
+
+'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov
+brought out, drawling.
+
+'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a
+strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I
+should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at
+the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.'
+
+'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second
+place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am
+good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a
+corpse.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began;
+but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried
+away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a
+brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated
+... everything was still.
+
+Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her
+head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking
+voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever
+and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this,
+to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am
+not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me?
+You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these
+last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that
+everything--understand me--everything else has vanished long ago and
+left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you
+... believe me!'
+
+Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long
+hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.'
+
+Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina
+Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you
+believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her
+large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to
+his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat,
+'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling
+gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the
+eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and
+gratitude, a man may be happy on earth.
+
+The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon
+Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded
+sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her
+sister's hand.
+
+Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control
+himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was
+instantaneously aflame in his breast.
+
+'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday
+imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you
+intending to do now?'
+
+'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing.
+
+'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt
+anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she
+had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's
+a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's
+the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to
+thwart him.'
+
+Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed
+and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ...
+I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I
+will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him.
+But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you
+we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what
+amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head
+away.
+
+'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and
+he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I
+hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and
+I will rejoice from a distance.'
+
+Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why
+should you not stay _now_? Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ...
+one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid,
+but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.'
+
+'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering
+opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been
+moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold
+out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the
+water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.'
+
+Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a
+bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity
+for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy.
+
+But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a
+poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck
+to you.'
+
+'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna
+Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture.
+
+'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away.
+
+'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day
+to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a
+capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected
+something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took
+you by surprise yourself?'
+
+'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered
+Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital
+thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.'
+
+'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm
+doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting
+hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up
+with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you
+remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina
+Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can
+sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it
+so well that she'll have you under her thumb--to be sure, though,
+that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from
+the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive
+ourselves--we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you
+have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely
+existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of
+youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get
+beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good.
+You won't fight--and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps--but we
+mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud
+would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're
+admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but
+we're sick of that--we want something else! we want to smash other
+people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for
+all that--_ay volla-too_, as my parent is fond of saying.'
+
+'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady
+mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?'
+
+Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other
+things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's
+sentimentalism--that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as
+you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content.
+They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha!
+I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every
+one.... What now? embracing, eh?'
+
+Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and
+the tears fairly gushed from his eyes.
+
+'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I
+rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll
+console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into
+the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by
+side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that
+example.'
+
+'What does that mean?' asked Arkady.
+
+'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that
+the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!...
+Good-bye!'
+
+The cart creaked and rolled away.
+
+Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady
+completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow
+her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He
+was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch.
+Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young
+people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by
+themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess
+out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful
+frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna
+was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to
+herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did
+not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna
+Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov
+was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity,
+and love of ease, and egoism ...'
+
+'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely
+imaginary feeling?'
+
+But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with
+her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard
+haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest;
+and it was not difficult for her--she had set her own mind at rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's
+arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly
+excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that
+Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of
+her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike
+appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece
+of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head
+round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on,
+then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly
+noiseless chuckle.
+
+'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him.
+'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.'
+
+'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!'
+answered Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study,
+he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all
+superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my
+dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser
+this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small
+compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now
+absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say
+sometimes--and before he had time to look round, she was nervously
+fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never
+mind, I only----' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch
+and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find
+out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day--cabbage-broth
+or beetroot-soup?'--'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'--'Oh, he
+will get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up;
+the fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or
+vague restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his
+movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He
+gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in
+the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily
+Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after
+Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but
+his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he
+complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or
+angry--that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful--that's what's
+so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing
+thin, he's lost his colour.'--'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the
+old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't
+allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most
+circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his
+health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and
+casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead
+up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation:
+'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's
+worse than the old one.'--'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily
+Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained
+fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning
+_à propos_ of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk
+about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I
+was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead
+of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.'
+
+Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering
+tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say
+to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say
+all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch
+in history will be started by you--you give us our real language and
+our laws.'
+
+The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this
+sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....'
+
+'You explain to me what your _mir_ is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it
+the same _mir_ that is said to rest on three fishes?'
+
+'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the
+peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal,
+simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the
+_mir_, we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our
+fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the
+peasant.'
+
+After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders
+contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly
+homewards.
+
+'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and
+surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been
+following his conversation with Bazarov.--'Arrears? eh?'
+
+'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there
+was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary,
+there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he
+clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a
+bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?'
+
+'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking
+back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to
+deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging
+his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants
+(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in
+his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the
+while something of the nature of a buffooning clown.
+
+He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily
+Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old
+man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son
+helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his
+practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at
+the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make
+use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily
+Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy
+dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his
+pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more
+malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted
+father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to
+repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for
+instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason,
+reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his
+son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that
+expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered
+to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover,
+the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him
+with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's
+cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of
+Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking
+God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you
+will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you
+know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no
+better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that
+she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words
+she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and
+rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a
+towel.
+
+Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and
+though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved
+it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father
+Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar
+seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it
+up!'
+
+'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what
+answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man.
+
+One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to
+Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a
+truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he
+had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his
+regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and
+declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his
+brother home again; he died in the cart.
+
+Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if
+he had any caustic.
+
+'Yes; what do you want it for?'
+
+'I must have some ... to burn a cut.'
+
+'For whom?'
+
+'For myself.'
+
+'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?'
+
+'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where
+they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to
+open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of
+that sort for a long while.'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without
+uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once
+with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go
+away.
+
+'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.'
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!'
+
+'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one.
+Do I hurt?'
+
+'Press harder; don't be afraid.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be
+better to burn it with hot iron?'
+
+'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless,
+really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.'
+
+'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the
+words.
+
+'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district
+doctor no caustic?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable
+thing as that!'
+
+'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away.
+
+Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily
+Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's
+room; and though far from referring to the cut--he even tried to talk
+about the most irrelevant subjects--he looked so persistently into his
+face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience
+and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to
+bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course,
+he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not
+sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself
+in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept
+watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear
+it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a
+single dish.
+
+'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of
+the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely
+cooked.'
+
+'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.'
+
+'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it
+ache?'
+
+'Yes. Of course, it aches.'
+
+Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert.
+
+'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't
+you let me feel your pulse?'
+
+Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm
+feverish.'
+
+'Has there been any shivering?'
+
+'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can
+send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.'
+
+'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina
+Vlasyevna.
+
+'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away.
+
+Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction
+of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and
+clutched at his hair in silent desperation.
+
+Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in
+heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening
+his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's
+pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged
+his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the
+cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did
+not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very
+little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,'
+and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his
+motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint
+consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with
+giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily
+Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and
+asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the
+wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she
+bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed
+suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a
+shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to
+comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to
+the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various
+questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his
+armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He
+went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as
+though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of
+amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his
+son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at
+last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with
+him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in
+reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself
+taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a
+doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he
+should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed
+dull look on his father, and asked for drink.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his
+forehead. It seemed on fire.
+
+'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way;
+I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow
+at his legs.
+
+'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you!
+You've caught cold!'
+
+'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to
+talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.'
+
+'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!'
+
+'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed
+his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror.
+
+'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's
+something like ... infection ...'
+
+'Pyæmia,' put in his son.
+
+'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...'
+
+'Pyæmia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten
+your text-books?'
+
+'Well, well--as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!'
+
+'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die
+so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and
+mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's
+the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want
+to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control.
+To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation.
+I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly.
+While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running
+round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a
+woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?'
+
+'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.'
+
+'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to
+comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...'
+
+'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man.
+
+'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh,
+yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be
+surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame
+Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?'
+(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his
+greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?'
+
+'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die,
+Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?'
+
+'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.'
+
+'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.'
+
+'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll
+go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and
+nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.'
+
+He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch
+went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom,
+simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures.
+
+'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.'
+
+The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived,
+and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a
+cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of
+recovery.
+
+'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state _not_ set off for
+Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy
+table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away.
+'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here
+still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned
+from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will
+disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a
+short pause--'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her
+exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do
+believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a
+Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?'
+
+'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly
+streamed down his cheeks.
+
+Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as
+is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not
+lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still
+struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his
+fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten
+from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one
+possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing
+nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ...
+mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an
+effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him,
+ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe
+and something 'warming and strengthening'--that's to say, brandy. Arina
+Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time
+to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of
+her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen
+of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone
+off to Madame Odintsov's.
+
+The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high
+fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina
+Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of
+tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little.
+
+'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at
+hand!'
+
+'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's
+found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding
+thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for
+instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a
+clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying
+him.'
+
+This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved
+Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.
+
+'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were
+clapping his hands.
+
+Bazarov smiled mournfully.
+
+'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?'
+
+'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered
+Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you
+remember? did you send?'
+
+'To be sure I did.'
+
+The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its
+onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as
+though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was
+several times on the point of speaking--and could not.
+
+'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!'
+
+This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He
+turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the
+load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it,
+father?'
+
+'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before
+Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him.
+'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make
+use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a
+Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but
+still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little,
+what ...'
+
+The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's
+face, though he still lay with closed eyes.
+
+'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at
+last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say
+yourself I am better.'
+
+'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's
+hands, and in doing the duty ...'
+
+'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the
+crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament
+to men who're unconscious, you know.'
+
+'Yevgeny, I beg.'
+
+'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.'
+And he laid his head back on the pillow.
+
+The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and,
+clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ...
+
+The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is
+peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon
+his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the
+neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up
+and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his
+little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed
+abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush
+of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in
+livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a
+black mantle was getting out of it ...
+
+'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living?
+You are his father? I have a doctor with me.'
+
+'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he
+pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna
+Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped
+very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is
+living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven
+has come to us....'
+
+'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of
+the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in
+the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments
+like a mad woman.
+
+'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did
+not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an
+angel!'
+
+'_Wo ist der Kranke?_ and where is the patient?' said the doctor at
+last, with some impatience.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me,
+würdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations.
+
+'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna
+Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and
+she herself is here.'
+
+Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?'
+
+'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a
+doctor, to you.'
+
+Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.'
+
+'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with
+the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since
+Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone,
+and we will have a little consultation.'
+
+Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in
+Latin; you see, I know the meaning of _jam moritur_.'
+
+'_Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein_,' began the new
+follower of Æsculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'_Ich_ ... _gabe_ ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man.
+
+'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation
+began.
+
+Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch,
+came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it
+was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery.
+
+She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly
+was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face,
+with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a
+sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not
+have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously
+through her brain.
+
+'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of
+mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.'
+
+'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ...
+
+'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy,
+now?'
+
+With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch went out.
+
+'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they
+say, visit the dying too.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope----'
+
+'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm
+under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the
+future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far
+I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's
+all up!----' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to
+you ... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less
+than ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking
+up. Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so
+beautiful ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder.
+
+'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to
+me; you know, my illness is catching.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair
+near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.
+
+'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh,
+and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long,
+that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time.
+You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing
+still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I
+wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a
+giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently,
+though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm
+not going to turn tail.'
+
+Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna
+Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing
+her breath timorously.
+
+'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the
+living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's
+nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort
+the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't
+to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a
+candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed.
+And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the
+butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm
+getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...'
+
+Bazarov put his hand to his brow.
+
+Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...'
+
+He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.
+
+'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their
+last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you
+then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.
+
+'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ...
+darkness ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in
+a whisper.
+
+'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not
+fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness,
+and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites
+of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction,
+when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as
+though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking
+censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror
+passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his
+last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily
+Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he
+shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his
+fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I
+rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both
+fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related
+afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like
+lambs at noonday ...'
+
+But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then,
+too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the
+weary and heavy laden....
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel
+stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the
+rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke
+above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when
+they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung
+by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day
+was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in
+the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There
+were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch
+in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid
+the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two
+weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses--Arkady
+and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day
+Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was
+going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also
+directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome
+presents to the young people.
+
+Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was
+placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade.
+Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the
+'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had
+changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better
+looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an
+elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And
+Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet
+head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with
+deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything
+surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your
+pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone--all the others smiled,
+and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little
+sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with
+humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a
+sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked
+confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was
+already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his
+glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began;
+'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I
+... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it
+is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.'
+
+'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.'
+
+'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say,
+let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as
+quickly as you can!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not
+excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which
+she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass
+which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be
+happy, my friends! _Farewell!_' This English finale passed unnoticed;
+but all were touched.
+
+'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as
+she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in
+response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud.
+
+The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care
+to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the
+present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him.
+
+Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good
+sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a
+lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and
+remarkable fluency--still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They
+live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain
+complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K---- is dead,
+forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at
+Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become
+zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a
+fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the
+mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works
+with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district;
+delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants
+ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought
+to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of
+the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete
+satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with _chic_, or
+depression of the _emancipation_ (pronouncing it as though it were
+French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the
+damned _'mancipation_.' He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina
+Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and
+talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and
+Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the
+latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her
+side.
+
+A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity
+and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry
+with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had
+refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while
+Piotr had not only a watch--he had a pair of kid shoes.
+
+In the Brühl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock--the most
+fashionable time for walking--you may meet a man about fifty, quite
+grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome,
+elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by
+moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel
+Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and
+has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English
+and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost
+modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect
+him for being, as they say, _'a perfect gentleman.'_ With Russians he
+is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of
+himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability,
+negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known
+that in the highest society this is regarded as _très distingué_! He
+reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver
+ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after
+by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary
+opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom,
+however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one
+can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for
+the theatre, and such things as _der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff_. He does
+everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise
+in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society
+lion;--but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he
+suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church,
+when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and
+remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then
+suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing
+himself....
+
+Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now
+studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to
+her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises
+with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural
+science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who,
+astounding the naïve German professors at first by the soundness of
+their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the
+sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company
+with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from
+nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too,
+with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also
+getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the
+'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a
+beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article,
+hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who
+beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as
+before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man.
+
+There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of
+Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched
+appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the
+grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted
+gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were
+pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty
+shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is
+one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it
+and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young
+fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried
+in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite
+feeble old people come to visit it--a husband and wife. Supporting one
+another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing,
+fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep,
+and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is
+lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the
+stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot
+tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their
+son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their
+tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not
+all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the
+heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at
+us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone,
+of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal
+reconciliation and of life without end.
+
+
+
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fathers and Children, by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fathers and Children, by Ivan Sergeevich
+Turgenev, Translated by Constance Clara Garnett</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Fathers and Children</p>
+<p>Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev</p>
+<p>Release Date: December 21, 2009  [eBook #30723]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***</p>
+<br><br><center><h4>E-text prepared by Ron Swanson<br>
+    from page images generously made available by<br>
+    Internet Archive/American Libraries<br>
+    (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/americana">http://www.archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4></center><br><br>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border=0 bgcolor="ccccff" cellpadding=10>
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio">
+      http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="6" summary="frontispiece">
+	<tr>
+		<td width="492">
+			<img src="images/1.jpg" alt="AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE">
+		</td>
+	</tr>
+	<tr>
+		<td width="492" align="center">
+			<small>AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE</small>
+		</td>
+	</tr>
+</table>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>THE HARVARD CLASSICS<br>
+SHELF OF FICTION<br>
+[From Vol. 19]</h4>
+<center><small>SELECTED BY CHARLES W ELIOT LL D</small></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>FATHERS AND CHILDREN</h1>
+
+<center><small>BY</small></center>
+
+<h3>IVAN TURGENEV</h3>
+<br>
+<center><small>TRANSLATED BY CONSTANCE GARNETT</small></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="logo">
+	<tr>
+		<td width="200">
+			<img src="images/2.jpg" alt="Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction logo">
+		</td>
+	</tr>
+</table>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<center><small>EDITED WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTIONS<br>
+BY WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON P<small>H</small> D</small></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<center>P F COLLIER &amp; SON<br>
+NEW YORK</center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<center><small>Published under special arrangement with<br>
+The Macmillan Company</small></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<center><small>Copyright, 1917<br>
+By P. F. C<small>OLLIER</small> &amp; S<small>ON</small></small></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p><a href="#biog">B<small>IOGRAPHICAL</small> N<small>OTE</small></a></p>
+
+<p>C<small>RITICISMS AND</small> I<small>NTERPRETATIONS:</small><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#c1">I.</a> B<small>Y</small> E<small>MILE</small> M<small>ELCHIOR</small>, V<small>ICOMTE DE</small> V<small>OGÜÉ</small><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#c2">II.</a> B<small>Y</small> W<small>ILLIAM</small> D<small>EAN</small> H<small>OWELLS</small><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#c3">III.</a> B<small>Y</small> K. W<small>ALISZEWSKI</small><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#c4">IV.</a> B<small>Y</small> R<small>ICHARD</small> H. P. C<small>URLE</small><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#c5">V.</a> B<small>Y</small> M<small>AURICE</small> B<small>ARING</small></p>
+
+<p><a href="#characters">L<small>IST OF</small> C<small>HARACTERS</small></a></p>
+<p><a href="#title">FATHERS AND CHILDREN</a></p>
+<table align="center" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10" summary="contents">
+	<tr><td colspan="7" align="center">C<small>HAPTERS</small></td></tr>
+	<tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap1">I</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap5">V</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap9">IX</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap13">XIII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap17">XVII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap21">XXI</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap25">XXV</a></td></tr>
+	<tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap2">II</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap6">VI</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap10">X</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap14">XIV</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap18">XVIII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap22">XXII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap26">XXVI</a></td></tr>
+	<tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap3">III</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap7">VII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap11">XI</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap15">XV</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap19">XIX</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap23">XXIII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap27">XXVII</a></td></tr>
+	<tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap3">IV</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap8">VIII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap12">XII</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap16">XVI</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap20">XX</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap24">XXIV</a></td>
+		<td align="center"><a href="#chap28">XXVIII</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+<br><a name="biog"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility.
+He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a
+hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was
+begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of
+Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St.
+Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the
+compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he
+returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the
+students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the
+Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests
+turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies,
+read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the
+critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable
+temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so,
+when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval
+by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself
+by the profession he had chosen.</p>
+
+<p>Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the
+woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A
+Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The
+first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left
+Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom
+he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained
+relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly
+in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged
+to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences
+were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He
+found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself
+under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A
+Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was
+arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years
+kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by
+the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him
+again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the
+head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates
+were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a
+wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent
+specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome,
+the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the
+stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her
+and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France
+after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near
+Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on
+September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering
+from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg
+and was buried with national honors.</p>
+
+<p>The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are
+characteristic in their concern with social and political questions,
+and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action.
+Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the
+universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian
+character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without
+unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian;
+yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of
+western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means,
+condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he
+surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House
+of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best.</p>
+
+<div align="right">W. A. N.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div>
+<br><a name="c1"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<h4>I</h4>
+<center>B<small>Y</small> E<small>MILE</small> M<small>ELCHIOR</small>, V<small>ICOMTE DE</small> V<small>OGÜÉ</small></center>
+<br>
+
+<p>Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of
+Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward;
+and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few
+modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the
+peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who
+does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not
+stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the
+intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two
+generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of
+respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience
+of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of
+life.</p>
+
+<p>The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His
+intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into
+Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor
+in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish
+something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for
+the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels.
+Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others.</p>
+
+<p>The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the
+brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally
+this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of
+feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full
+of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of
+the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate.
+It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will
+have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the
+condition of his dependents.</p>
+
+<p>The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of
+their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how
+to go to work to accomplish it.</p>
+
+<p>In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has
+little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of
+some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single
+exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or
+grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young
+girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is
+the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of
+country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is
+conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less
+intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an
+irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will.</p>
+
+<p>Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes,
+which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain
+from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!"
+which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of
+works of the imagination.&mdash;From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists,"
+translated by J. L. Edmands (1887).</p>
+<br><a name="c2"></a>
+<br>
+<h4>II</h4>
+<center>B<small>Y</small> W<small>ILLIAM</small> D<small>EAN</small> H<small>OWELLS</small></center>
+<br>
+<p>Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and
+freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame
+in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French
+novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner
+and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic
+punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the
+personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of
+peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable
+always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I
+had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with
+mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American
+horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient,
+agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me
+through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are
+passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn
+from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own
+most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air
+drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on
+the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle
+sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As
+for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and
+civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal
+human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his
+own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart
+some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had
+been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly
+content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev
+surpasses the art of Björnson; I think Björnson is quite as fine and
+true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances
+for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has
+to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his
+scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway,
+it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the
+actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many
+times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of
+years I read them again and again without much caring for other
+fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once
+more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less
+than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had
+reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was
+impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now
+aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always
+present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.&mdash;From "My Literary
+Passions" (1895).</p>
+<br><a name="c3"></a>
+<br>
+<h4>III</h4>
+<center>B<small>Y</small> K. W<small>ALISZEWSKI</small></center>
+<br>
+<p>The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a
+storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to
+understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"&mdash;thus baptized
+by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success&mdash;is
+merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had
+been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The
+epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiéjdine
+applied it to Pushkin, Polevoï, and some other subverters of the
+classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new
+interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of
+"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in
+Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to
+look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a
+figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being.
+Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest
+way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of
+insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his
+model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the
+Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his
+first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he
+is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the
+character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin,
+at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no
+educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max
+Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke
+and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual
+<i>Ego</i>. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were
+destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest
+symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in
+word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know
+what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and
+indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal
+tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of
+fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the
+first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more
+general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so
+general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev&mdash;he
+has admitted it himself&mdash;felt as if he were drawing his own portrait;
+and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so
+sympathetic.&mdash;From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900).</p>
+<br><a name="c4"></a>
+<br>
+<h4>IV</h4>
+<center>B<small>Y</small> R<small>ICHARD</small> H. P. C<small>URLE</small></center>
+<br>
+<p>But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn
+to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and
+Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem&mdash;Has
+personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this
+figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike
+weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other
+philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion,
+and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing
+himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is
+a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but
+himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions
+of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our
+power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing
+intellect&mdash;he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of
+gigantic will&mdash;he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a
+man of intense life&mdash;he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of
+death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of
+determination against fate, of personality against impersonality.
+Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury
+by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the
+creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm,
+aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all
+the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to
+play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the
+most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others
+linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest
+of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the
+self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding
+his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding
+his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further
+examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived
+character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic
+moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that
+capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of
+life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of
+theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear
+an inward soliloquy.&mdash;From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The
+Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910).</p>
+<br><a name="c5"></a>
+<br>
+<h4>V</h4>
+<center>B<small>Y</small> M<small>AURICE</small> B<small>ARING</small></center>
+<br>
+<p>Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English
+literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all
+Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise.
+Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a
+master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production
+since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered
+Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness
+of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first
+time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to
+paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian
+soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for
+the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed
+of praise than he was perhaps entitled to.</p>
+
+<p>In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's
+Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but
+universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece
+"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary
+elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a
+libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers
+and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody.
+He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia
+to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian
+criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so
+terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did
+not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and
+an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political
+struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a
+Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either
+the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in
+England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated
+opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion
+against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture
+of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far
+as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr.
+Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from
+which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on
+increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that
+was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste....</p>
+
+<p>"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of
+Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a
+touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word;
+the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all
+the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov
+stands out like Lucifer, the strongest&mdash;the only strong character&mdash;that
+Turgenev created, the first Nihilist&mdash;for if Turgenev was not the first
+to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and
+again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek,
+humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an
+anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man
+who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions,
+knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to
+nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is
+the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and</p>
+
+<center><small>"not cowardly puts off his helmet,"</small></center>
+
+<p>and he dies "valiantly vanquished."</p>
+
+<p>In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water
+mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly
+pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than
+the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English
+novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong,
+piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more
+reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets,
+of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as
+has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The
+revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries
+a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as
+Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the
+type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists
+of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the
+fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....&mdash;From "An Outline
+of Russian Literature" (1914).</p>
+<br><a name="characters"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>LIST OF CHARACTERS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>N<small>IKOLAI</small> P<small>ETROVITCH</small> K<small>IRSANOV</small>, a landowner.</p>
+
+<p>P<small>AVEL</small> P<small>ETROVITCH</small> K<small>IRSANOV</small>, his brother.</p>
+
+<p>A<small>RKADY</small> (A<small>RKASHA</small>) N<small>IKOLAEVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> N<small>IKOLAITCH</small>), his son.</p>
+
+<p>Y<small>EVGENY</small> (E<small>NYUSHA</small>) V<small>ASSILYEVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> V<small>ASSILYITCH</small>) B<small>AZAROV</small>, friend of
+Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>V<small>ASSILY</small> I<small>VANOVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> I<small>VANITCH</small>), father of Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>A<small>RINA</small> V<small>LASYEVNA</small>, mother of Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>F<small>EDOSYA</small> (F<small>ENITCHKA</small>) N<small>IKOLAEVNA</small>, second wife of Nikolai.</p>
+
+<p>A<small>NNA</small> S<small>ERGYEVNA</small> O<small>DINTSOV</small>, a wealthy widow.</p>
+
+<p>K<small>ATYA</small> S<small>ERGYEVNA</small>, her sister.</p>
+
+<p>P<small>ORFIRY</small> P<small>LATONITCH</small>, her neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>M<small>ATVY</small> I<small>LYITCH</small> K<small>OLYAZIN</small>, government commissioner.</p>
+
+<p>E<small>VDOKSYA</small> (<i>or</i> A<small>VDOTYA</small>) N<small>IKITISHNA</small> K<small>UKSHIN</small>, an emancipated lady.</p>
+
+<p>V<small>IKTOR</small> S<small>ITNIKOV</small>, a would-be liberal.</p>
+
+<p>P<small>IOTR</small> (<i>pron. P-yotr</i>), servant to Nikolai.</p>
+
+<p>P<small>ROKOFITCH</small>, head servant to Nikolai.</p>
+
+<p>D<small>UNYASHA</small>, a maid servant.</p>
+
+<p>M<small>ITYA</small>, infant of Fedosya.</p>
+
+<p>T<small>IMOFEITCH</small>, manager for Vassily.</p>
+<br><a name="title"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>FATHERS AND CHILDREN</h2>
+<h4>A NOVEL</h4>
+<hr align="center" width="60">
+<br><a name="chap1"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER I</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the
+20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and
+checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of
+the posting station at S&mdash;&mdash;. He was addressing his servant, a chubby
+young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The servant, in whom everything&mdash;the turquoise ring in his ear, the
+streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his
+movements&mdash;indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced
+with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer:</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir; not in sight.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not in sight?' repeated his master.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir,' responded the man a second time.</p>
+
+<p>His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce
+him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing
+thoughtfully round.</p>
+
+<p>His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the
+posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he
+expressed it&mdash;since he had arranged the division of his land with the
+peasants, and started 'a farm'&mdash;of nearly five thousand acres. His
+father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse,
+half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in
+harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a
+division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of
+his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was
+born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more
+hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by
+cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual
+regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a
+girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna
+Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of
+the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling
+silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she
+talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in
+the morning, and gave them her blessing at night&mdash;in fact, she got
+everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's
+son&mdash;though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even
+deserved to be called 'a funk'&mdash;was intended, like his brother Pavel,
+to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news
+of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a
+slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad
+job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg
+directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother
+happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The
+young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote
+supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an
+official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his
+wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper,
+scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets
+stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr
+Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the
+university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put
+on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to
+Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the
+Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died
+suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed
+him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she
+was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment.
+Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and
+to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter
+of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and,
+as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles
+in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the
+term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his
+father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with
+his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute,
+afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a
+draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled
+finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The
+young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever
+apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano;
+she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes
+went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and
+grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream.
+In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a
+few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if
+possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He
+returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged
+period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the
+management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university;
+he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out
+anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young
+companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we
+have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather
+bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he
+had taken it himself.</p>
+
+<p>The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious
+to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking
+a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the
+crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him,
+treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an
+unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was
+scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an
+odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son
+... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came
+round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else,
+and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife....
+'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue
+pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near
+the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had
+already caught the sound of approaching wheels.</p>
+
+<p>'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in
+from the gateway.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage
+appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage
+he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar
+outline of a dear face.</p>
+
+<p>'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A
+few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty,
+sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate.</p>
+<br><a name="chap2"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER II</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from
+travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to
+his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling
+tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own
+greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look
+at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with
+hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this
+way; and horses at once.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a
+little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov,
+about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to
+promise to stay with us.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a
+long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the
+carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did
+not at once hold out to him.</p>
+
+<p>'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind
+intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and
+turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch
+his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose
+flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and
+drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil
+smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,'
+continued Nikolai Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply,
+but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the
+prominent bumps on his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son,
+'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?'</p>
+
+<p>'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.'</p>
+
+<p>'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get
+things ready, my good boy; look sharp.'</p>
+
+<p>Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's
+hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the
+gateway.</p>
+
+<p>'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your
+coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some
+water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the
+station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver,
+who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the
+carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ...</p>
+
+<p>'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must
+not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so
+simple&mdash;you will see.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his
+hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what
+the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.'</p>
+
+<p>Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated
+shaft-horse.</p>
+
+<p>'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch;
+'there'll be something to drink our health with!'</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were
+installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov
+jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather
+cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.</p>
+<br><a name="chap3"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER III</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said
+Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the
+knee. 'At last!'</p>
+
+<p>'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the
+genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as
+possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace
+channel.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for
+some reason or other he gave up the idea.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, about five hours.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear old dad!'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss
+on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And
+your room has been fresh papered.'</p>
+
+<p>'And is there a room for Bazarov?'</p>
+
+<p>'We will find one for him too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his
+friendship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you made friends with him lately?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, quite lately.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he
+study?'</p>
+
+<p>'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next
+year he wants to take his doctor's degree.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he
+was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand,
+'aren't those our peasants driving along?'</p>
+
+<p>Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with
+unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each
+cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr.</p>
+
+<p>'Where are they going,&mdash;to the town?'</p>
+
+<p>'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously,
+turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to
+him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old
+stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation.</p>
+
+<p>'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued
+Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent.
+What is one to do?'</p>
+
+<p>'But do you like your hired labourers?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set
+against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They
+spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When
+things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an
+interest in farming now?'</p>
+
+<p>'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering
+the last question.</p>
+
+<p>'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,'
+observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open
+air.'</p>
+
+<p>'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all
+nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy
+there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And
+the sky too.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and
+said no more.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so
+everything is bound to strike you in a special&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.'</p>
+
+<p>'Still&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'No; it makes absolutely no difference.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage
+went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed
+between them.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch,
+'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't
+find many changes at Maryino.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you still the same bailiff?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about
+me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to
+intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced
+towards Piotr.) <i>'Il est libre, en effet,'</i> observed Nikolai Petrovitch
+in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a
+bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred
+and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his
+forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication
+with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would
+not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my
+duty to prepare you, though....'</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French.</p>
+
+<p>'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the
+first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have
+always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son.
+Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In
+short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard
+already ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please....
+Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house
+... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Goodness, daddy, what for?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so
+horrid&mdash;that's the worst of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I
+wonder you're not ashamed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch,
+flushing more and more.</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately.
+'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart
+was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind,
+soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please,
+stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a
+consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand
+with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in
+his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it.</p>
+
+<p>'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why did you sell it?'</p>
+
+<p>'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who don't pay you their rent?'</p>
+
+<p>'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look
+about him.</p>
+
+<p>The country through which they were driving could not be called
+picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very
+horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some
+places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low,
+scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the
+old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little
+streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and
+little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down
+roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping
+doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some
+brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with
+crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart
+sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in
+tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks
+stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along
+the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger,
+were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as
+though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of
+some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved
+beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white
+phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts,
+and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it
+does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on
+like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry
+them out, how is one to begin?'</p>
+
+<p>Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the
+spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all&mdash;trees,
+bushes, grass&mdash;shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft
+breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling
+music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the
+low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the
+rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out
+black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already
+whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its
+grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly
+fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his
+father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him
+another hug.</p>
+
+<p>'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to
+get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on
+together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate,
+if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now,
+and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!'</p>
+
+<p>'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness.
+Though I agree with Pushkin&mdash;do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin&mdash;</p>
+
+<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem1">
+	<tr><td><small>'To me how sad thy coming is,<br>
+		&nbsp;Spring, spring, sweet time of love!<br>
+		&nbsp;What ...'</small></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've
+nothing to light my pipe with.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to
+him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a
+silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again.</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a
+thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing
+about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that
+Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was
+forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of
+wounding his son.</p>
+
+<p>A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps
+of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was
+Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it,
+Poverty Farm.</p>
+<br><a name="chap4"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER IV</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen;
+a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her
+there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a
+coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel
+Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the
+carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch
+with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall,
+from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's
+face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style.</p>
+
+<p>'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and
+shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper
+and rest.'</p>
+
+<p>'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching,
+and he dropped on to a sofa.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch
+with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right
+moment comes Prokofitch.'</p>
+
+<p>A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a
+cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink
+neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to
+the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him.</p>
+
+<p>'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to
+us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?'</p>
+
+<p>'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he
+quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he
+said impressively.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box
+to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his
+frieze overcoat.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with
+an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and
+holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady,
+are you going to your room for a minute?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the
+door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of
+medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low
+cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about
+forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like
+new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally
+regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate
+chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his
+clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle,
+with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth
+and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most
+part is lost after the twenties are past.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with
+its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite
+from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal,
+and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the
+European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is
+to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches,
+and said, 'Welcome.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted
+him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile,
+but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a
+musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he
+showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as
+hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back
+directly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly
+from the sofa. Both the young men went out.</p>
+
+<p>'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he going to stay with us?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'That unkempt creature?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, yes.'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy
+Arkady <i>s'est dégourdi,'</i> he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.'</p>
+
+<p>At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said
+nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various
+incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the
+impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the
+necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly
+up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at
+a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather
+exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from
+Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that
+awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to
+be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to
+regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite
+unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes
+replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his
+teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far
+more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did
+not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they
+all separated at once.</p>
+
+<p>'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his
+dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such
+style in the country! His nails, his nails&mdash;you ought to send them to
+an exhibition!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell
+in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was
+very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a
+pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at
+his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved
+simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.'</p>
+
+<p>'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his
+time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a
+good-hearted fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>'My father's a man in a thousand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous.</p>
+
+<p>'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists,
+they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance
+is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but
+the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged&mdash;an English
+washstand stands for progress!'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady.
+Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed,
+under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands,
+those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and
+sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no
+prayer.</p>
+
+<p>Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were
+awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He
+lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped
+on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long
+after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace,
+on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch
+was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid
+shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of <i>Galignani</i>,
+but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish
+flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where
+his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past
+only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is
+not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small
+back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing
+jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She
+was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the
+open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular
+breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard.</p>
+<br><a name="chap5"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER V</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of
+the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place
+isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land
+with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four
+acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices,
+and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells;
+but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected
+in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of
+lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and
+dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little
+paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable,
+routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set
+off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for
+frogs.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special
+faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he
+never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall
+cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as
+you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I
+shall know what's going on inside us too.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what do you want to know that for?'</p>
+
+<p>'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you a doctor then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as
+frogs, that's funny!'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as
+white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up
+collar.</p>
+
+<p>'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?'</p>
+
+<p>'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see
+Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the
+terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the
+table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling.
+A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at
+the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she
+said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders
+to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she
+send Dunyasha?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch
+hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with
+lemon?'</p>
+
+<p>'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered
+interrogatively, 'Daddy?'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son.</p>
+
+<p>'Well?' he said.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady dropped his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began,
+'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open
+... you will not be angry ...?'</p>
+
+<p>'Go on.'</p>
+
+<p>'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't
+the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father.</p>
+
+<p>'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my
+views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly,
+could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing?
+Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed
+her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in
+any case, a son cannot judge his father,&mdash;least of all, I, and least of
+all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in
+anything.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself
+magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering
+something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of
+one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought
+out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers
+again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are
+just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a
+frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but
+you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your
+presence, especially the first day of your return.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of
+magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to
+her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch too got up.</p>
+
+<p>'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not
+told you yet ...'</p>
+
+<p>But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai
+Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by
+confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the
+inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son?
+Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect
+if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself
+for weakness?&mdash;it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him,
+but in the state of sensations&mdash;and vague sensations&mdash;while the flush
+did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed.</p>
+
+<p>There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the
+terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a
+kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya
+Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little
+later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed
+him last night, as I have kissed him just now.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and
+open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck.</p>
+
+<p>'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p>Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant;
+there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to
+escape as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily.
+'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to
+get a good look at him since yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not
+indisposed to be embracing him myself.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his
+perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an
+elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his
+head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a
+suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his
+shirt&mdash;not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning
+dress&mdash;stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin.</p>
+
+<p>'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off somewhere.
+The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he doesn't
+like ceremony.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading
+butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.'</p>
+
+<p>'And where does his father live?'</p>
+
+<p>'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property
+there. He was formerly an army doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard
+that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division
+there was a surgeon Bazarov?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe there was.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel
+Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov
+himself?' he asked, deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell
+you what he really is?'</p>
+
+<p>'If you will be so good, nephew.'</p>
+
+<p>'He's a nihilist.'</p>
+
+<p>'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a
+knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained
+motionless.</p>
+
+<p>'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, <i>nihil</i>,
+<i>nothing</i>, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who
+accepts nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to
+work on the butter again.</p>
+
+<p>'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed
+Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down
+before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith,
+whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people
+will suffer for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people;
+we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's
+no taking a step, no breathing. <i>Vous avez changé tout cela</i>. God give
+you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to
+look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall
+see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please,
+brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of
+Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young
+woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and
+eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore
+a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump
+shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before
+Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood
+rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face.
+She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the
+very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of
+having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch
+looked embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with
+a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went
+gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that
+suited her.</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch
+sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist
+coming towards us,' he said in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the
+flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud;
+clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in
+his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was
+moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good
+morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I
+must just put these captives away.'</p>
+
+<p>'What have you there&mdash;leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'No, frogs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you eat them&mdash;or keep them?'</p>
+
+<p>'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no
+faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged
+his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his
+epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new
+bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a
+labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an
+Æsop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested
+himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll
+walk off in a huff like a fool.'</p>
+<br><a name="chap6"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER VI</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking
+tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily
+watched first his father and then his uncle.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last.</p>
+
+<p>'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some
+half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aren't you a sportsman then?'</p>
+
+<p>'No.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired.</p>
+
+<p>'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.'</p>
+
+<p>'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with
+ironical intention; none noticed it however.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch,
+with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret
+irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute
+nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave
+abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was
+something churlish, almost insolent.</p>
+
+<p>'The scientific men there are a clever lot.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a
+flattering opinion, I dare say?'</p>
+
+<p>'That is very likely.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared,
+drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this?
+Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no
+authorities? Don't you believe in <i>them?'</i></p>
+
+<p>'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me
+the truth, I agree, that's all.'</p>
+
+<p>'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his
+face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had
+withdrawn to some cloudy height.</p>
+
+<p>'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not
+care to continue the discussion.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him,
+'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again,
+not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans.
+Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of
+creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In
+former days there were some here and there; they had&mdash;well, Schiller,
+to be sure, Goethe ... my brother&mdash;he takes a particularly favourable
+view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists
+...'</p>
+
+<p>'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in
+Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling
+asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art
+then, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with
+a contemptuous laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt?
+Granted. Then you believe in science only?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and
+what is science&mdash;science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there
+are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in
+human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?'</p>
+
+<p>'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it
+his duty to interpose in the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day,
+dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own.
+For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences.
+I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the
+amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my
+agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our
+heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we
+haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch.
+'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud.
+'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk
+with the bailiff.'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live
+five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You
+turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been
+taught, but&mdash;in a snap!&mdash;they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you
+that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and
+that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be
+done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away;
+Nikolai Petrovitch went after him.</p>
+
+<p>'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly
+the door had closed behind the two brothers.</p>
+
+<p>'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You
+have hurt his feelings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why,
+it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his
+career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him!
+I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, <i>Dytiscus
+marginatus;</i> do you know it? I will show you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'The story of the beetle?'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the
+sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?'</p>
+
+<p>'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.'</p>
+
+<p>'How does that follow?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; listen ...'</p>
+
+<p>And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the
+following chapter.</p>
+<br><a name="chap7"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER VII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger
+brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was
+distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident,
+somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to
+please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his
+commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he
+indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave
+himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of
+their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly
+jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same
+apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not
+at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small,
+pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and
+thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and
+was timid in society.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself
+on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion
+among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six
+French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant
+career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed.</p>
+
+<p>At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman
+who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R&mdash;&mdash;. She had a
+well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children.
+She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led
+an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a
+frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of
+pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom
+she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while
+at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often
+paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat,
+pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again
+into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply
+flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the
+slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair
+coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one
+would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point
+was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good&mdash;they were grey, and not
+large&mdash;but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of
+audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy&mdash;an enigmatic
+glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even
+while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed
+with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a
+mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single
+rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed
+to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object,
+but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was
+in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom,
+even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there
+seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which
+none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul&mdash;God knows! It
+seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces,
+incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will;
+her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her
+whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters
+which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a
+man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an
+element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased
+to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look
+of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this
+bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like
+expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting
+her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once,
+as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that
+heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure.</p>
+
+<p>'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He
+once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone.</p>
+
+<p>'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him.
+'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless
+smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R&mdash;&mdash; loved him; but when
+she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went
+out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no
+peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of
+her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the
+entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and
+followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one
+time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her.
+He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit
+... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost
+meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At
+Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as
+though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it
+was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went
+out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to
+remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was
+possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily
+avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former
+life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered
+from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society;
+he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of
+two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much
+of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and
+grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and
+arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him&mdash;a bad sign, as
+we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years
+passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless&mdash;and
+quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in
+prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club,
+Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R&mdash;&mdash;. She had died
+at Paris in a state bordering on insanity.</p>
+
+<p>He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of
+the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go
+home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed
+to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn
+lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that
+the solution of the enigma&mdash;was the cross.</p>
+
+<p>This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when
+Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife.
+Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had
+settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had
+coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance
+with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him
+with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in
+sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in
+standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two
+brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less;
+Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his
+memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her.
+But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son
+was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary
+bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets
+that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth
+is over, while old age has not yet come.</p>
+
+<p>This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in
+losing his past, he lost everything.</p>
+
+<p>'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him
+one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his
+wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you
+would be bored to death.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then
+I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will
+let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.'</p>
+
+<p>For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half
+passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his
+mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the
+country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters
+which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to
+read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in
+the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the
+election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally
+annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal
+sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger
+generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up';
+and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for
+his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very
+well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for
+the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with
+Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took
+everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath;
+for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form'
+scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and
+always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible
+honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not
+cultivate ladies' acquaintance....</p>
+
+<p>'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how
+unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than
+once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money&mdash;the
+property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided&mdash;he's glad to help any
+one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's
+true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ...</p>
+
+<p>'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid.
+What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard
+to relations with women.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!'</p>
+
+<p>'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me;
+it's a sin to despise him.'</p>
+
+<p>'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a
+fellow who stakes his whole life on one card&mdash;a woman's love&mdash;and when
+that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for
+nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to
+know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced
+that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads
+that wretched <i>Galignani</i>, and once a month saves a peasant from a
+flogging.'</p>
+
+<p>'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed
+Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as
+I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on
+it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all
+shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these
+mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know
+what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does
+the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all
+romantic, nonsensical, æsthetic rot. We had much better go and look at
+the beetle.'</p>
+
+<p>And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already
+pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of
+cheap tobacco.</p>
+<br><a name="chap8"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER VIII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview
+with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and
+knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered,
+'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and
+drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed
+system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel,
+warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood.
+Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was
+gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his
+money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel
+Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once,
+seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to
+turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his
+hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, <i>'mais je
+puis vous de l'argent,'</i> and gave him money; but to-day he had none
+himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural
+management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai
+Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in
+the right way, though he would not have been able to point out
+precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not
+practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.'
+Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel
+Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a
+soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say;
+'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see
+through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel
+Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor,
+which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had
+reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his
+moustaches, he knocked at it.</p>
+
+<p>'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice.</p>
+
+<p>'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her
+baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him
+out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at
+her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town
+to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change
+here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided
+over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing
+she did not understand him.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a
+present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is
+very nice here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to
+have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, it's more comfortable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who has been put in your place now?'</p>
+
+<p>'The laundry-maids are there now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but
+he did not go, and she stood before him motionless.</p>
+
+<p>'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at
+last. 'I love children; let me see him.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid
+of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did
+not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must
+have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with
+special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself
+was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of
+camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought
+by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a
+little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with
+a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a
+big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg
+hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's
+breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully
+tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had
+written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was
+particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a
+cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping
+and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while
+hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above
+a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai
+Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer;
+there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute
+failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy
+frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General
+Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian
+mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins
+which fell right on to his brows.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next
+room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book,
+an odd volume of Masalsky's <i>Musketeer</i>, and turned over a few
+pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her
+arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the
+collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing
+heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the
+air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock
+obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in
+every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too
+in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have
+remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more
+captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her
+arms?</p>
+
+<p>'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he
+tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his
+forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and
+slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a
+smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it.</p>
+
+<p>'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.'</p>
+
+<p>'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some
+timidity.</p>
+
+<p>'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the
+chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all
+his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her
+face away.</p>
+
+<p>'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself;
+'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost
+mournfully, at Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai
+Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother
+looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help
+responding to his smile.</p>
+
+<p>'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch,
+'I came in here to speak about some tea.'</p>
+
+<p>And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once
+went out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he knocked and came in.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why so?'</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.'</p>
+
+<p>'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his
+forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he
+said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on
+the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's
+hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock.</p>
+
+<p>'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her
+eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her
+eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled
+tenderly and a little foolishly.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following
+manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an
+inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness
+of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the
+woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him;
+but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed,
+of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered
+into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai
+Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not
+wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for
+wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small
+number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her
+to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented.
+Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter,
+Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new
+housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed
+herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a
+successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for
+Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and
+scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on
+Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side
+place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed
+thus.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she
+asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark
+from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home
+people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide.
+He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much
+frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she
+followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took
+her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and
+swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at
+once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it
+ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then
+was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai
+Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed
+her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well
+again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not
+pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate,
+timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair,
+and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly
+teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch
+her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation
+with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the
+approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she
+ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood,
+so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head
+through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out
+like a little animal, and called affectionately to her&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush.</p>
+
+<p>By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in
+his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What
+was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for
+order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone.
+Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's
+needless to relate the rest....</p>
+
+<p>'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her.
+'He knocked and came in?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.'</p>
+
+<p>And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to
+the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the
+mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his
+little bare legs.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls
+covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a
+variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture,
+upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a <i>renaissance</i> bookcase of
+old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table,
+with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands
+behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face
+almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the
+very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other
+reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw
+himself on the sofa.</p>
+<br><a name="chap9"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER IX</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was
+walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of
+the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well.</p>
+
+<p>'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and
+spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there
+has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're
+accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But
+there's some one in here.'</p>
+
+<p>In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov
+stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend.</p>
+
+<p>'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a
+pretty girl!'</p>
+
+<p>'Whom are you speaking of?'</p>
+
+<p>'You know; only one of them was pretty.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who
+Fenitchka was.</p>
+
+<p>'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I
+like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make
+friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about,
+for mercy's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself&mdash;I'm
+not a booby.'</p>
+
+<p>Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap.</p>
+
+<p>'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a
+harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without
+speaking.</p>
+
+<p>'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises
+have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed?
+Is he cutting his teeth?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums
+are swollen again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment
+both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was
+not frightened.</p>
+
+<p>'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will
+have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you
+quite well yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite, thank God.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God, indeed&mdash;that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning
+to Dunyasha.</p>
+
+<p>Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside
+the gates, only giggled in answer.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka received the baby in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way
+with them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to
+some people for anything.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance
+for some time, had gone up to the arbour.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back
+and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion.</p>
+
+<p>'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady
+indulgently, and the two friends walked away.</p>
+
+<p>'What's her name?' asked Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'And her father's name? One must know that too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nikolaevna.'</p>
+
+<p><i>'Bene</i>. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some
+people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What
+is there to embarrass her? She's a mother&mdash;she's all right.'</p>
+
+<p>'She's all right,' observed Arkady,&mdash;'but my father.'</p>
+
+<p>'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no, I don't think so.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?'</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted
+Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of
+view; I think he ought to marry her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows
+we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect
+that of you.'</p>
+
+<p>The friends walked a few paces in silence.</p>
+
+<p>'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began
+again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the
+buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers;
+while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite
+found out which yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead
+certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will
+cheat God Himself."'</p>
+
+<p>'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have
+a poor opinion of Russians.'</p>
+
+<p>'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his
+having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that
+two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.'</p>
+
+<p>'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the
+bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of
+the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky.</p>
+
+<p>'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a
+temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.'</p>
+
+<p>At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to
+them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's <i>Expectation</i> with
+much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with
+honey sweetness through the air.</p>
+
+<p>'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>'It's my father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your father plays the violoncello?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how old is your father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Forty-four.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>'What are you laughing at?'</p>
+
+<p>'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a <i>paterfamilias</i> in this
+out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time
+Arkady did not even smile.</p>
+<br><a name="chap10"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER X</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed
+course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked.
+Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners,
+and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far
+at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had
+convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual,
+he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand
+Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of
+his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar;
+he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a
+contempt for him&mdash;him, Pavel Kirsanov!</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was
+doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was
+glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and
+chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and
+busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to
+him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was
+one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle
+with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when
+she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last
+degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose
+whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out
+a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat&mdash;even he
+smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the
+boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old
+man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the
+dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an
+upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a
+pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an
+aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>The best days of the year had come&mdash;the first days of June. The weather
+kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was
+threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get
+used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for
+two or three miles, not for a walk&mdash;he couldn't bear walking without an
+object&mdash;but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he
+took Arkady with him.</p>
+
+<p>On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually
+vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion.</p>
+
+<p>One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet
+them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the
+quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the
+other side of the arbour, and could not see him.</p>
+
+<p>'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times;
+his day is done.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole
+slowly home.</p>
+
+<p>'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was
+continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly
+use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And
+what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something
+sensible to read.'</p>
+
+<p>'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I think Büchner's <i>Stoff und Kraft</i> to begin with.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, <i>'Stoff und Kraft</i> is
+written in popular language....'</p>
+
+<p>'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his
+brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our
+day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I
+confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to
+such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left
+behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.'</p>
+
+<p>'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us
+already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and
+mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head.
+I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm
+convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in
+medicine.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his
+subject.'</p>
+
+<p>'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in
+again.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no
+doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into
+account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I
+have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I
+am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I
+study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the
+day&mdash;and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it
+is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why so?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I
+remember, it happened to be <i>The Gipsies</i> ... all of a sudden Arkady
+came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on
+his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me,
+and laid another before me&mdash;a German book ... smiled, and went away,
+carrying Pushkin off with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Upon my word! What book did he give you?'</p>
+
+<p>'This one here.'</p>
+
+<p>And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Büchner, in the
+ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady
+Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try
+reading it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I tried it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what did you think of it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Either I'm stupid, or it's all&mdash;nonsense. I must be stupid, I
+suppose.'</p>
+
+<p>'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I understand the German.'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced
+from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change
+the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Matvy Ilyitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. He has come to&mdash;&mdash;to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig
+now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us
+again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'No; are you?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself
+over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. <i>Mathieu</i> wants to show himself
+in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him
+homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed,
+a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on
+in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now.
+Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's
+arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother.
+'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of
+that.'</p>
+
+<p>A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came
+into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and
+determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy;
+but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule,
+Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was
+how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour,
+and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was
+all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten
+aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in
+Petersburg.</p>
+
+<p>'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were
+trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and
+"aristocrat" the same meaning?'</p>
+
+<p>'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip
+of tea.</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats
+as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do
+not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for
+a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that
+reason, I respect aristocrats&mdash;real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir'
+(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel
+Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony&mdash;'the
+English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and
+for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the
+performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform
+their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and
+maintains it for her.'</p>
+
+<p>'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what
+are you trying to prove by that?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he
+intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew
+very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this
+fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the
+times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions
+when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as
+much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we
+are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of
+scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense
+of personal dignity, without self-respect&mdash;and these two sentiments are
+well developed in the aristocrat&mdash;there is no secure foundation for the
+social ... <i>bien public</i> ... the social fabric. Personal character,
+sir&mdash;that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm
+as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for
+instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my
+refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of
+self-respect, from a sense of duty&mdash;yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the
+country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the
+dignity of man in myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect
+yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does
+that do to the <i>bien public?</i> If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do
+just the same.'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's
+absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with
+folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to
+tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but
+immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to
+Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so,
+Nikolai?'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying
+meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless
+words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we
+shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come&mdash;the
+logic of history demands ...'</p>
+
+<p>'But what's that logic to us? We can get on without that too.'</p>
+
+<p>'How do you mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your
+mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to
+us?'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I
+don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles,
+rules! By virtue of what do you act then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,'
+put in Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed
+Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of
+all&mdash;and we deny&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Everything?'</p>
+
+<p>'Everything!'</p>
+
+<p>'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady
+fairly blushed with delight.</p>
+
+<p>'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or,
+speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must
+construct too, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.'</p>
+
+<p>'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with
+dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no
+right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.'</p>
+
+<p>This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of
+philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called
+philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to
+correct his young disciple.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing
+to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that
+you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No;
+the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds
+sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready
+to agree that in that you're right.'</p>
+
+<p>'But if I am right ...'</p>
+
+<p>'And, all the same, that proves nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a
+practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move
+on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it.</p>
+
+<p>'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You
+must be going against the people then?'</p>
+
+<p>'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when
+it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot.
+What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian;
+but am I not Russian too?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't
+acknowledge you as Russian.'</p>
+
+<p>'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty
+pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us&mdash;you or me&mdash;he'd more
+readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to
+talk to them.'</p>
+
+<p>'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude,
+but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a
+product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war
+on it?'</p>
+
+<p>'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!'</p>
+
+<p>'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you
+suppose you're not a useless person.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai
+Petrovitch, getting up.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder,
+forced him to sit down again.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through
+that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our
+friend&mdash;our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again
+to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty?
+That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more
+than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...'</p>
+
+<p>'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel
+vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the
+first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you do, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our
+officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real
+justice ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I see, you are reformers&mdash;that's what that's called, I fancy. I
+too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk,
+about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to
+nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men,
+so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy
+ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious
+creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what
+all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat,
+while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our
+enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men
+enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's
+busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to
+rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all
+this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.'</p>
+
+<p>'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He
+suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so
+expansive before this gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>'But to confine yourselves to abuse?'</p>
+
+<p>'To confine ourselves to abuse.'</p>
+
+<p>'And that is called nihilism?'</p>
+
+<p>'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with
+peculiar rudeness.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he
+observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our
+woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse
+others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one
+else?'</p>
+
+<p>'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered
+between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel
+Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without
+even knowing why?'</p>
+
+<p>'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing
+himself up.</p>
+
+<p>'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of
+maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise
+what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the
+patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in
+the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is
+civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't
+tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, <i>un
+barbouilleur</i>, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an
+evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives
+of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves
+advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's
+hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only
+four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you
+trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk
+over you!'</p>
+
+<p>'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an
+open question. We are not so few as you suppose.'</p>
+
+<p>'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole
+people?'</p>
+
+<p>'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered
+Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule&mdash;that, that's
+what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the
+inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you,
+ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady
+turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I
+have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican.
+Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an
+authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and
+unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a
+Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They
+are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?'</p>
+
+<p>'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing;
+and they're no better than he.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought
+to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they
+fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't
+want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked
+it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is
+foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be
+sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned
+nihilists.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked
+Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes
+were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it
+short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added,
+getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present
+mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for
+complete and unqualified destruction.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel
+Petrovitch&mdash;'millions! Well&mdash;the Mir, for instance.'</p>
+
+<p>A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he
+commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I
+should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact&mdash;its common
+guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.'</p>
+
+<p>'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried
+Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not
+to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head
+of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel
+Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not
+likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and
+think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel
+Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the
+present, gentlemen!'</p>
+
+<p>The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first
+they only looked at one another.</p>
+
+<p>'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of
+this generation are! They are like that&mdash;our successors!'</p>
+
+<p>'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile.
+He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done
+nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you
+know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our
+poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to
+her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two
+different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought,
+"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow
+it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us,
+"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."'</p>
+
+<p>'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied
+Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are
+far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps
+express ourselves in old-fashioned language, <i>vieilli</i>, and have not
+the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men
+nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my
+custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn
+as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at
+the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the
+drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there.</p>
+
+<p>'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai
+Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said <i>'bon
+soir'</i> to him abruptly, and went away to his study.</p>
+<br><a name="chap11"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XI</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his
+favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the
+first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he
+foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then,
+had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the
+newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in
+vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in
+their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought,
+'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further
+from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is
+something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is
+it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in
+there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand
+over his face.</p>
+
+<p>'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for
+art, for nature ...'</p>
+
+<p>And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible
+to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was
+hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile
+from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still
+fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow
+path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even
+to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the
+horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side
+fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a
+warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their
+leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky,
+faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind
+had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the
+lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary
+branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!'
+thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his
+lips; he remembered Arkady's <i>Stoff und Kraft</i>&mdash;and was silent, but
+still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful
+consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country
+life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had
+been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station,
+and what a change already since that day; their relations that were
+then undefined, were defined now&mdash;and how defined! Again his dead wife
+came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many
+years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a
+slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on
+her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first
+time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of
+his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to
+apologise, and could only mutter, <i>'Pardon, monsieur,'</i> while she
+bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at
+the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a
+serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the
+half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and
+yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all
+vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are
+happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one
+not live an eternal, undying life in them?'</p>
+
+<p>He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that
+he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory;
+he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her
+warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him....</p>
+
+<p>'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him;
+'where are you?'</p>
+
+<p>He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the
+possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was
+sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought
+back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality....</p>
+
+<p>The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just
+rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken&mdash;and vanished.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the
+traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped
+into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he
+noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been
+dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had
+glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go
+home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at
+once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking
+at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky
+where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he
+was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of
+yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh,
+how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing
+within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man
+forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding
+tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the
+violoncello.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to
+go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him
+so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to
+tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh
+air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving.</p>
+
+<p>At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the
+matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a
+ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and
+moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too
+grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in
+his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the
+stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and
+sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of
+dreaming....</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've
+got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an
+invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let
+us be off to X&mdash;&mdash;; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see
+what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll
+have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you'll come back here again?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five
+miles from X&mdash;&mdash;. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother
+too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me,
+especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.'</p>
+
+<p>'And will you be long with them?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you'll come to us on your way back?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?'</p>
+
+<p>'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly.</p>
+
+<p>In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but
+he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for
+nothing!</p>
+
+<p>The next day he set off with Bazarov to X&mdash;&mdash;. The younger part of the
+household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ...
+but the old folks breathed more easily.</p>
+<br><a name="chap12"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The town of X&mdash;&mdash; to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction
+of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a
+despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first
+year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the
+marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open
+house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The
+feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the
+ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted
+personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The
+choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of
+the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once
+found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had
+not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming
+a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast&mdash;one, to be
+sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor,
+whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a
+progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the
+majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity
+knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened
+condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first
+acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On
+important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make
+his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then,
+<i>'l'énergie est la première qualité d'un homme d'état;'</i> and for all
+that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official
+could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great
+respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he
+did not belong to the class of <i>routiniers</i> and high-and-dry
+bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed
+unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He
+even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development
+of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of
+small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality,
+Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days
+of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame
+Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were
+different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite,
+and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no
+intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no
+one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the
+principal thing.</p>
+
+<p>Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call
+it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He
+was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited
+had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer
+fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent
+velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a
+discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated
+attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from
+prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But,
+having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further
+attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their
+subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that
+end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great
+vogue, <i>'is quite a favourite,'</i> as the English say; a high official
+suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total
+deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?'</p>
+
+<p>He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.'</p>
+
+<p>'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with
+intense attention.</p>
+
+<p>'To-day's Friday, your Ex&mdash;s&mdash;s&mdash;lency.'</p>
+
+<p>'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?'</p>
+
+<p>'Friday, your Ex&mdash;s&mdash;s&mdash;s&mdash;lency, the day of the week.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was
+reckoned a liberal.</p>
+
+<p>'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to
+Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere
+to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to
+authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow;
+besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society
+here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the
+day after to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly.
+'Do you dance?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I dance, but not well.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a
+young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any
+old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies
+in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, <i>il a fait son temps.'</i></p>
+
+<p>'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...'</p>
+
+<p>'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my
+wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll
+find it warm, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of
+the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his
+mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day,
+when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from
+every little flower.' Arkady withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long
+while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's
+no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by
+halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!'</p>
+
+<p>The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to
+sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss
+and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an
+excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever
+making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and
+within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as
+brothers, and calling them Kisarov.</p>
+
+<p>They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short
+man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was
+passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along
+on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?'</p>
+
+<p>'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap,
+he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My
+father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and
+so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already
+been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their
+room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name
+of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic
+characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?'</p>
+
+<p>'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch,
+introduce me to your ... to the ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping.</p>
+
+<p>'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking,
+and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard
+so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may
+say&mdash;his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of
+excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of
+his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a
+fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy&mdash;a sort of short,
+wooden laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the
+first time said before me that it was not right to accept any
+authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened!
+Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is
+really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a
+real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly.</p>
+
+<p>'Kukshina, <i>Eudoxie</i>, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature,
+<i>émancipée</i> in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you
+know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two
+steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not
+lunched yet?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; not yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her
+husband; she is not dependent on any one.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in.</p>
+
+<p>'N-no, one couldn't say that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?'</p>
+
+<p>'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of
+champagne.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is
+your father still in the gin business?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh.
+'Well? Will you come?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't really know.'</p>
+
+<p>'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must
+come too; we can't go without you.'</p>
+
+<p>'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?'</p>
+
+<p>'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!'</p>
+
+<p>'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.'</p>
+
+<p>'What with?'</p>
+
+<p>'My own head.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.'</p>
+<br><a name="chap13"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XIII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya
+Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the
+streets of X&mdash;&mdash;, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known
+that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door,
+above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to
+be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly
+a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap&mdash;unmistakable tokens of
+the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired
+whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that you, <i>Victor?'</i> sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining
+room. 'Come in.'</p>
+
+<p>The woman in the cap disappeared at once.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and
+Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared
+something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket.</p>
+
+<p>'No matter,' answered the voice. <i>'Entrez.'</i></p>
+
+<p>The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a
+working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of
+Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty
+tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a
+leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair
+hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy,
+heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head.
+She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed
+with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly,
+'Good-morning, <i>Victor,'</i> and pressed Sitnikov's hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of
+round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I
+know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person
+of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a
+disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her,
+'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a
+fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air.
+She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she
+obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all
+the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just
+what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say,
+done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the
+habit&mdash;peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies&mdash;of calling men by
+their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you
+have a cigar?'</p>
+
+<p>'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in
+an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're
+awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of
+champagne.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the
+gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a
+Sybarite?'</p>
+
+<p>'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That
+does not prevent my being a Liberal.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions,
+however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm
+persuaded you share my opinion.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of
+bread even from the chemical point of view.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a
+new sort of composition myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'A composition? You?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that
+they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not
+quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read
+Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the <i>Moscow Gazette?</i> Read it
+please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the
+schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected
+negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their
+nurses.</p>
+
+<p>'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing
+nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you
+know, I'm very angry with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'What for?'</p>
+
+<p>'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A
+retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with
+Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything.
+She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these
+days&mdash;what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her
+hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that
+subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of
+the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on
+the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why so? Allow me to ask.'</p>
+
+<p>'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes!
+why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a
+country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my
+bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder;
+something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's
+an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?'</p>
+
+<p>'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly.</p>
+
+<p>'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to
+spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur
+Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I
+don't know&mdash;it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad;
+last year I was on the point of setting off.'</p>
+
+<p>'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'To Paris and to Heidelberg.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why to Heidelberg?'</p>
+
+<p>'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!'</p>
+
+<p>To this Bazarov could find no reply.</p>
+
+<p><i>'Pierre</i> Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I don't.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not know <i>Pierre</i> Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know her either.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent;
+I've no children.... What was that I said: <i>thank God!</i> It's no matter
+though.'</p>
+
+<p>Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown
+with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began
+smoking. The maid came in with a tray.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the
+bottle; that's in your line.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to
+the same convulsive laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a
+third glass.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed
+creatures. <i>Mon amie,</i> Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a
+pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though,
+but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all
+that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a
+great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.'</p>
+
+<p>'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to
+despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The
+possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable
+sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never
+suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing
+before his wife merely because she had been born a princess
+Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of
+understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken
+of by serious men like us!'</p>
+
+<p>'But there's not the least need for them to understand our
+conversation,' observed Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya.</p>
+
+<p>'Pretty women.'</p>
+
+<p>'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I
+have my own.'</p>
+
+<p>'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of
+expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired.</p>
+
+<p>'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ...</p>
+
+<p>'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the
+silly hussies?'</p>
+
+<p>'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn
+to defend to the last drop of my blood.'</p>
+
+<p>'Damn!'&mdash;but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said.</p>
+
+<p>'No, I see you're a Slavophil.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal
+despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!'</p>
+
+<p>'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the
+last drop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya.</p>
+
+<p>'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne&mdash;not of
+your blood.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya.
+'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read
+Michelet's book, <i>De l'amour</i>. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk
+of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled
+sofa cushion.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said
+Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was
+what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?'</p>
+
+<p>'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you.
+Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she
+ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, <i>Evdoxie!</i>
+Let us clink glasses! <i>Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc,
+et tin-tin-tin!!!'</i></p>
+
+<p>'Victor, you're a wretch.'</p>
+
+<p>The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was
+followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered
+without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the
+question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men
+were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in.
+Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk,
+tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano,
+and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then
+Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a
+scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words&mdash;</p>
+
+<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem2">
+	<tr><td><small>'And thy lips to mine<br>
+		&nbsp;In burning kiss entwine.'</small></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something
+like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put
+in an ironical word in the conversation&mdash;he paid more attention to the
+champagne&mdash;gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their
+hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed
+them.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously
+from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable
+personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own
+way, an expression of the highest morality.'</p>
+
+<p>'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the
+highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which
+they were passing at that instant.</p>
+
+<p>Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of
+his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at
+Bazarov's unexpected familiarity.</p>
+<br><a name="chap14"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XIV</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch
+was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared
+to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while
+the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly
+motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy
+Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was
+gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a
+shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles <i>'en vrai chevalier
+français'</i> before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a
+hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He
+slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed
+Bazarov&mdash;who was attired in a rather old evening coat&mdash;a sidelong
+glance in passing&mdash;absent but condescending&mdash;and an indistinct but
+affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and
+'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head
+already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the
+ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her
+hair, he said <i>'enchanté.'</i>. There were crowds of people, and no lack of
+dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along
+the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them
+who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring
+interjections of the kind of&mdash;<i>'zut,' 'Ah, fichtr-re,' 'pst, pst,
+mon bibi,'</i> and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine
+Parisian <i>chic,</i> and at the same time he said <i>'si j'aurais'</i> for <i>'si
+j'avais,' 'absolument'</i> in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed
+himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French
+ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak
+French like angels, <i>'comme des anges.'</i></p>
+
+<p>Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at
+all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined
+himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his
+face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about
+him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face
+changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of
+embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at
+the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her
+bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some
+light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping
+shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging
+white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression&mdash;tranquil it was
+precisely, not pensive&mdash;and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible
+smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov.</p>
+
+<p>'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Please ... after this quadrille.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.'</p>
+
+<p>After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to
+Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with
+her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in
+some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she
+heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of
+Nikolai Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,'
+she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.'</p>
+
+<p>At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a
+quadrille. She consented.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too
+old?'</p>
+
+<p>'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for
+a mazurka.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she
+looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married
+sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older
+than Arkady&mdash;she was twenty-nine&mdash;but in her presence he felt himself a
+schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them
+seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a
+majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still
+watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the
+quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand
+official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly.
+Her nose&mdash;like almost all Russian noses&mdash;was a little thick; and her
+complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all
+that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could
+not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her
+dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest&mdash;more
+gracefully and amply&mdash;and her movements were distinguished by a
+peculiar smoothness and naturalness.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the
+mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to
+enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through
+his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and
+agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon
+him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her
+freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the
+country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy,
+slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when
+partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She
+came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even
+heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled
+through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her,
+looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever
+face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from
+some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had
+already felt and thought much....</p>
+
+<p>'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov
+brought you to me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid
+face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail,
+and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and
+looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a
+close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly
+an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time
+continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he
+ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down
+by that feeling.</p>
+
+<p>The music stopped. <i>'Merci,'</i> said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You
+promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be
+very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was
+ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went
+away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low,
+looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the
+greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has
+forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his
+soul.</p>
+
+<p>'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the
+corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to
+me about that lady; he said, "She's&mdash;oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the
+fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?&mdash;oh, fie! fie!'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my! What innocence!'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame
+Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and
+severely, that....'</p>
+
+<p>'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it
+piquancy. You like ices, I expect?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She
+wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see
+her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me.
+Whatever she may be&mdash;whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or
+"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion&mdash;any way she's got a pair of
+shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but&mdash;as often happens&mdash;he
+reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ...</p>
+
+<p>'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a
+low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers
+among women are frights.'</p>
+
+<p>The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went
+away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously
+malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her
+vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any
+attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at
+four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with
+Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final
+event of the Governor's ball.</p>
+<br><a name="chap15"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XV</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov
+said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the
+hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something
+wrong here.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov,
+clinging to the narrow morality, which ...'</p>
+
+<p>'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly.
+'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my
+dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you
+tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though,
+to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to
+do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of
+the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says,
+that it's well-grounded.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A
+young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room,
+badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with
+flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning
+dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine.
+Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he
+seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil,
+as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of
+being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!&mdash;frightened
+of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an
+easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease,
+while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev,
+notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling
+propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for
+fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself
+completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where,
+however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two
+daughters&mdash;Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their
+mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes&mdash;the H&mdash;&mdash;s&mdash; had
+died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position
+after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education
+she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with
+the cares of domestic life and economy,&mdash;for an obscure existence in
+the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and
+there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all
+contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they
+despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and
+promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna
+H&mdash;&mdash;, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in
+her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use,
+scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk
+even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a
+threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a
+three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims,
+gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed,
+already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the
+wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to
+be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric
+hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not
+ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She
+consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on
+his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in
+the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad
+with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and
+came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty
+miles from the town of X&mdash;&mdash;. There she had a magnificent, splendidly
+furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late
+husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna went
+very rarely to the town, generally only on
+business, and even then she did not stay long. She was not liked in the
+province; there had been a fearful outcry at her marriage with
+Odintsov, all sorts of fictions were told about her; it was asserted
+that she had helped her father in his cardsharping tricks, and even
+that she had gone abroad for excellent reasons, that it had been
+necessary to conceal the lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?'
+the indignant gossips would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,'
+was said of her; to which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And
+through all the other elements?' All this talk reached her; but she
+turned a deaf ear to it; there was much independence and a good deal of
+determination in her character.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with
+folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good
+deal, and obviously trying to interest her&mdash;again a surprise for
+Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his
+object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what
+impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression,
+gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention,
+but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her
+unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a
+discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that
+even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no
+one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet
+with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a
+clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she
+had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have
+no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about
+medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that Madame
+Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a good many
+excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She turned the
+conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not appreciate
+art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though Arkady was just
+launching into a discourse upon the significance of national melodies.
+Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a younger brother; she
+seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful simplicity&mdash;and that
+was all. For over three hours, a lively conversation was kept up,
+ranging freely over various subjects.</p>
+
+<p>The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna
+looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both,
+and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful
+smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me
+at Nikolskoe.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness
+happiness ...'</p>
+
+<p>'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he
+noticed that his friend was blushing.</p>
+
+<p>'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same
+opinion&mdash;that she's ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a
+brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal
+personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.'</p>
+
+<p>'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be
+hard up!'</p>
+
+<p>'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it
+on the dissecting-table.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go
+to stay with her.'</p>
+
+<p>'When?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink
+champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal
+dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too&mdash;my
+father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the
+S&mdash;&mdash; road, isn't it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a
+splendid body!'</p>
+
+<p>Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to
+Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek
+posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited
+tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June,
+my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day
+they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can
+go on expecting.... What does it matter!'</p>
+<br><a name="chap16"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XVI</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed
+hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof,
+white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing
+the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the
+foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially
+conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village
+stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above
+the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the
+church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too
+was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a
+pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both
+buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not
+endure&mdash;as he expressed it&mdash;idle and arbitrary innovations. The house
+was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an
+avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance.</p>
+
+<p>Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of
+them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black
+dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase
+covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were
+already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was
+clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean,
+everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in
+the reception rooms of ministers.</p>
+
+<p>'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward
+announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?'</p>
+
+<p>'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to
+trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he
+withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked.</p>
+
+<p>'What <i>grand genre!'</i> remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in
+your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.'</p>
+
+<p>'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she
+invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village
+sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a
+sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause,
+contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh,
+doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a
+little nervousness.</p>
+
+<p>Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the
+drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously
+but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in
+the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with
+cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered
+the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit
+merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a
+faded light-haired man&mdash;and it seemed to look with displeasure at the
+visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady,
+and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at
+that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barège
+dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish
+expression to her pure and fresh face.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a little
+while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to my
+sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference to
+you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond of
+music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one of
+our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all our
+circle. And now let us sit down.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar
+precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to
+Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had
+even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady
+began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell
+to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking
+to himself.</p>
+
+<p>A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room,
+tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of
+eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but
+pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket
+filled with flowers.</p>
+
+<p>'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion
+of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her
+sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was
+Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and
+thrusting his cold nose into their hands.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' answered Katya.</p>
+
+<p>'Is auntie coming to tea?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and
+candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous
+severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the
+voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white
+palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing
+and getting out of breath.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from
+politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest
+you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion
+about something.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for
+discussion?' he said.</p>
+
+<p>'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.'</p>
+
+<p>'You?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and
+one must be impulsive to be argumentative.'</p>
+
+<p>'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first
+place, I am impatient and obstinate&mdash;you should ask Katya; and
+secondly, I am very easily carried away.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so
+you are inclined for a discussion&mdash;by all means. I was looking through
+the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that
+that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have
+no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might
+be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of
+the mountains, for instance.'</p>
+
+<p>'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a
+book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.'</p>
+
+<p>'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages
+in a book.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little.</p>
+
+<p>'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting
+her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face
+nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and
+in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth
+the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each
+of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called
+moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no
+importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by.
+People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying
+each individual birch-tree.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely
+fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting
+his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna
+Sergyevna shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is
+no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the
+good-natured and ill-natured?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy.
+The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as
+yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know
+approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come
+from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed
+with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short,
+reform society, and there will be no diseases.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while
+thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to
+me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes
+strayed about the room.</p>
+
+<p>'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is
+reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?'</p>
+
+<p>'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be
+absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.'</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely so, madam.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady
+Nikolaevitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered.</p>
+
+<p>Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids.</p>
+
+<p>'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have
+more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare
+her.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H&mdash;&mdash;, a thin little woman with a
+pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring
+ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely
+bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair,
+upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a
+footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even
+look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost
+covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had
+bright yellow ribbons.</p>
+
+<p>'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing
+Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried,
+'Ss&mdash;&mdash;ss!'</p>
+
+<p>Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him.</p>
+
+<p>Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a
+walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching
+and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out....</p>
+
+<p>'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?'</p>
+
+<p>The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out
+of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A
+little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table,
+an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she
+sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup
+emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her
+cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with
+sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything),
+and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan
+write?'</p>
+
+<p>No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they
+paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov....</p>
+
+<p>After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but
+it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of
+the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted
+card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish,
+greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be
+amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov,
+asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the
+old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he
+ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a
+country doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and
+I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady
+Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly
+was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that
+Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man
+at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his
+heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano,
+and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'What am I to play you?'</p>
+
+<p>'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing
+her attitude.</p>
+
+<p>'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you like Mozart?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I like Mozart.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very
+well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and
+immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly
+compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair
+came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part
+in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody,
+the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break
+in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference
+to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady
+doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.'</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from
+the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not
+venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he
+asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had
+recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she
+withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to
+her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at
+such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly
+shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated
+her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last
+to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the
+head to give himself an appearance of being at home.</p>
+
+<p>Katya set to work again upon her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in
+masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the
+game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not
+altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the
+conversation on botany.</p>
+
+<p>'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you
+to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.'</p>
+
+<p>'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Order is needed in everything,' she answered.</p>
+
+<p>'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was
+alone with his friend in the room assigned to them.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen
+life too.'</p>
+
+<p>'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch!
+I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid
+is not her, but her sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, that little dark thing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy
+and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and
+developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the
+other's&mdash;a stale loaf.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with
+rather singular thoughts in his head.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked
+Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply
+defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not
+chanced to meet before, and she was curious.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of
+any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went
+out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she
+had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely
+satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her
+intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts
+were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough
+to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would
+perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion.
+But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went
+on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid,
+and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours
+before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away,
+and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits
+of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then
+her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful,
+tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and
+enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the
+sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with
+sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would
+blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into
+herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one
+thing she cared for at that instant&mdash;to get away from that horrid
+draught.</p>
+
+<p>Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something,
+without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing;
+but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly
+endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives,
+though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she
+had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret
+repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as
+slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once,
+somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous
+expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a
+powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going
+back to Russia.</p>
+
+<p>'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious
+bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had inherited
+from her father a little of his inclination for splendour. She had
+fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had idolised
+her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she were an
+equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her mother she
+scarcely remembered.</p>
+
+<p>'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched,
+smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two
+pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book&mdash;and fell asleep, all
+pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov
+directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not
+go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored
+with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day
+before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught
+sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came
+through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing
+and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw
+hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a
+light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons
+of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her,
+self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face,
+cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering
+between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while
+Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each
+other already to-day!'</p>
+<br><a name="chap17"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XVII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls
+like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not
+even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way
+Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good
+order she had established in her house and in her life partly
+contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself,
+and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done
+at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the
+party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did
+what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the
+estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper.
+Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the
+evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna
+Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following
+day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat
+ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he
+pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards,
+offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so
+far, one might as well dine in the English style at once&mdash;in tail-coats
+and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna
+Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his
+mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was,
+'From your point of view, you are right&mdash;and perhaps, in that respect,
+I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without
+order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own
+way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and
+Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on
+rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men
+since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna
+Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him,
+began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily
+put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and
+could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by
+some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind
+conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to
+yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent
+him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into
+friendly, affectionate terms with her. <i>'She</i> does not appreciate me?
+So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he
+thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous
+emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of
+consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the
+innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did
+not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always
+shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as
+befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the
+object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was
+conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame
+Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and
+she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With
+Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her
+condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her
+by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without
+noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too.
+Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at
+his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually
+came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together,
+went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya
+adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to
+acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent
+to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two
+friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them
+began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame
+Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is
+true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her
+sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry,
+and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to
+avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself.</p>
+
+<p>The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in
+Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him,
+and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and
+cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the
+possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love
+for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he
+expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable
+imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the
+nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his
+wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not
+been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used
+to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't&mdash;well, turn your back
+on her&mdash;there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had
+taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of
+her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his
+favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and
+to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his
+power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he
+could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking
+root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always
+jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna
+Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for
+everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he
+recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and
+walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his
+way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get
+into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try
+to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always
+succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands
+twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his
+kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness&mdash;yes, with
+tenderness&mdash;on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for
+an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself
+in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a
+devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking
+place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression
+of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point
+he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame
+Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal
+about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for
+his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she
+liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even
+when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She
+was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself.</p>
+
+<p>One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a
+surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon....
+She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a
+pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the
+meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of
+putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never
+'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his
+father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child,
+Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and
+astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny
+tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov,
+in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip
+of leather, and in tarred boots.</p>
+
+<p>'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he
+smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered
+with wrinkles.</p>
+
+<p>'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered
+the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.)
+'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your
+honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say&mdash;to have a look
+at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to
+the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no
+answer. 'Is my father well?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God, yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'And my mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.'</p>
+
+<p>'They are expecting me, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>The little old man held his tiny head on one side.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it
+does really.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with
+both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went
+off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own
+room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening
+to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she
+could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff
+lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she
+made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before
+her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov
+was well aware of all this.</p>
+
+<p>'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your
+promise?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov started. 'What promise?'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.'</p>
+
+<p>'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer.
+However, you can read Pelouse et Frémy, <i>Notions générales de Chimie;</i>
+it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you
+need in it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of
+... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you
+remember?'</p>
+
+<p>'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her
+easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom.
+She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a
+perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its
+soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen.</p>
+
+<p>'And why stay?' answered Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not
+enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed
+here?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure of it.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that.
+But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov
+still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being
+missed, and I less than most.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why so?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing
+in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her
+shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated.</p>
+
+<p>'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.'</p>
+
+<p>'What makes you suppose that?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular
+routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such
+unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness
+or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.'</p>
+
+<p>'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I
+have ordered my life with such regularity?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike
+ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may
+stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud
+crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands
+were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its
+almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance
+of the pure open air.</p>
+
+<p>'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a
+talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you
+never talk about yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you,
+about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud,
+'especially for you; we are obscure people....'</p>
+
+<p>'And you regard me as an aristocrat?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness.</p>
+
+<p>She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that
+all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will
+tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right;
+perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid
+society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to
+stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty,
+live in the country?'</p>
+
+<p>'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With
+my ... beauty?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I
+don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?'</p>
+
+<p>'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some
+way?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because
+you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease,
+and very indifferent to everything else.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe
+that I am capable of being carried away by anything?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows.</p>
+
+<p>'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just
+like me, you see.'</p>
+
+<p>'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark,
+luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and
+there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard
+its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single
+limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion.</p>
+
+<p>It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he
+was alone with a young and lovely woman....</p>
+
+<p>'Where are you going?' she said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>He answered nothing, and sank into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went
+on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I
+know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.'</p>
+
+<p>'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle
+gossip?'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a
+meaning to her words.</p>
+
+<p>'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too
+proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no
+desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think
+that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a
+velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call
+comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain
+that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your
+eyes.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich;
+what more would you have? What do you want?'</p>
+
+<p>'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very
+tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am
+old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare
+arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me
+I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then
+poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in
+due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me,
+before me&mdash;a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each
+syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in
+something....'</p>
+
+<p>'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't
+love; that's where your unhappiness lies.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it true I can't love?' she said.</p>
+
+<p>'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On
+the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mischance, what?'</p>
+
+<p>'Falling in love.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how do you come to know that?'</p>
+
+<p>'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily.</p>
+
+<p>'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want
+of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it
+were being torn to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole
+frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take
+mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else
+better have nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so
+far you ... have not found what you wanted.'</p>
+
+<p>'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to
+anything whatever?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to
+yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without
+reflection is very easy.'</p>
+
+<p>'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need
+my devotion?'</p>
+
+<p>'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is
+my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,'
+she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.'</p>
+
+<p>'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not
+in my line.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you could devote yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the
+piano floated up to them from the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to
+bed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov;
+it seemed as though she were examining him attentively.</p>
+
+<p>He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said
+'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was
+gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and
+suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with
+rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov
+back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray.
+Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again,
+and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark
+coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna
+Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from
+time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet
+with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the
+writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the
+throat.</p>
+
+<p>'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked
+Arkady, not answering him.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with
+Katya Sergyevna.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears
+were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his
+sarcastic friend.</p>
+<br><a name="chap18"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XVIII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea,
+Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced
+up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and
+he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She
+quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It
+rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a
+walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up
+the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess,
+as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though
+he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he
+paid no attention to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want
+to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...'</p>
+
+<p>She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an
+expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and
+again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances
+with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed
+her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the
+delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame
+Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the
+previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before.</p>
+
+<p>'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Pelouse et Frémy, <i>Notions générales,'</i> answered Bazarov. 'I might
+though recommend you also Ganot, <i>Traité élémentaire de physique
+éxpérimentale</i>. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in
+general it's a text-book.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg
+your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I
+wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so
+suddenly.... It will not bore you ...'</p>
+
+<p>'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about
+last night?'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By
+the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even
+when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a
+conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of
+some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual
+happiness&mdash;such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is
+it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?'</p>
+
+<p>'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied
+Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I
+certainly never have such ideas come into my head.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; but they don't come into my head.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think
+about?'</p>
+
+<p>'What? I don't understand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to
+tell you&mdash;you are conscious of it yourself&mdash;that you are not an
+ordinary man; you are still young&mdash;all life is before you. What are you
+preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to
+say&mdash;what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to?
+What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?'</p>
+
+<p>'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying
+natural science, and who I ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, who are you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district
+doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might
+answer me in that way, but not you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, in what is Arkady ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble
+career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't
+believe in medicine? You&mdash;with your ambition&mdash;a district doctor! You
+answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in
+me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you;
+I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps
+through the same trials as you.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ...
+I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a
+rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...'</p>
+
+<p>'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat?
+No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to you
+...'</p>
+
+<p>'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to
+talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not
+depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something&mdash;so much the
+better; and if it doesn't turn up&mdash;at least one will be glad one didn't
+gossip idly about it beforehand.'</p>
+
+<p>'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you
+consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise
+us all.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your
+disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking
+place within you now ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of
+government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and
+besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in
+him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in
+your heart.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can <i>you?'</i> asked Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went
+on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for
+nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this&mdash;what should I
+say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.'</p>
+
+<p>'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the
+reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within
+me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at
+the time understand.</p>
+
+<p>'And you will not be angry?'</p>
+
+<p>'No.'</p>
+
+<p>'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then
+that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it
+out of me.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning
+with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard;
+his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of
+youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that
+possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and
+painful&mdash;passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame
+Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious
+tenderness in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both
+her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast.</p>
+
+<p>She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant
+later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at
+Bazarov. He rushed at her ...</p>
+
+<p>'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It
+seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov
+bit his lips, and went out.</p>
+
+<p>Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it
+consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till
+to-morrow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why should you go? I did not understand you&mdash;you did not understand
+me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did
+not understand myself either.'</p>
+
+<p>She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro
+in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the
+looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on
+which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what
+had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether
+she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but
+I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed
+crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at
+her....</p>
+
+<p>'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back
+her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown
+back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and
+lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself
+was confused....</p>
+
+<p>'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to;
+he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the
+world.'</p>
+
+<p>Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a
+few tears once though she could not have said why&mdash;certainly not for
+the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined
+to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the
+sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself
+to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and
+had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or
+revolting.</p>
+<br><a name="chap19"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XIX</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to
+every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the
+dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however.
+Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he
+had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them
+that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to
+wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed
+on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and
+diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a
+grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not
+stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding,
+with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every
+feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went
+with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted
+to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went
+up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame
+Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.'</p>
+
+<p>'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position,
+you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go
+away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be
+gone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Why am I going away?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I didn't mean to say that.'</p>
+
+<p>'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound
+to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only
+conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition
+will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you
+never will love me, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed
+through her brain.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and
+he went back into the house.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she
+took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did
+not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all
+accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and
+looked on at her as all young people look on&mdash;that's to say, he was
+constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut
+himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna
+longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to
+address him....</p>
+
+<p>An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward
+announced the arrival of Sitnikov.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the
+young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with
+his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the
+country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited
+him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such
+talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless
+trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the
+apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he
+muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to
+inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too,
+having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he
+faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down
+on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna
+Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon
+recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the
+commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained
+tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by
+recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance
+everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more
+solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual.</p>
+
+<p>'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to
+Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are
+you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.'
+For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had
+sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable
+sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised,
+and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that
+why you're sad?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'What about Anna Sergyevna?'</p>
+
+<p>'I mean, will she let you go?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not her paid man.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face
+to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>'Well?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will leave with you to-morrow too.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as
+Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be
+delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of
+being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of
+course?'</p>
+
+<p>'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning
+round.</p>
+
+<p>'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?'
+thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he
+pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his
+own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He
+felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so
+accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something
+has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it
+be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm
+losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna
+Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely
+image of the young widow.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which
+a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and
+said aloud&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the
+following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are
+indispensable to us. I&mdash;do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's
+not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'...</p>
+
+<p>'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the
+fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I
+gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the
+next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed.
+Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as
+to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it.
+Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only
+just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this
+occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the
+man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with
+him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a
+few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse,
+and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he
+proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him.</p>
+
+<p>'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man,
+turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take
+your coach, so it will be even more convenient.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my
+place.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business
+in that direction.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh
+as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he
+muttered; 'and there will be room for all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly.</p>
+
+<p>The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov,
+Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet
+again, shan't we?'</p>
+
+<p>'As you command,' answered Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, we shall.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's
+carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have
+killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady
+waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the
+horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to
+Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his
+carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these words;
+while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage, took his
+seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former
+fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was
+soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his
+coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the
+off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two
+passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town,
+where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's,
+he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.'</p>
+
+<p>When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand
+warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though
+Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence.
+He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had
+eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner,
+stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to
+his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I
+say, is my tongue yellow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.'</p>
+
+<p>'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother&mdash;my
+mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and
+eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's
+known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added,
+and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the
+box, a labourer of Fedot's.</p>
+
+<p>But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know&mdash;miles hereabout aren't
+measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for
+'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an
+instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a
+thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must
+go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his
+life.'</p>
+
+<p>'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both
+behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've
+noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his
+illness&mdash;he's sure to get over it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought
+you had nothing to complain of.'</p>
+
+<p>'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this&mdash;to my
+mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman
+have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all
+...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word,
+'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't
+believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine
+society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that
+is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man
+hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says
+an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he
+added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box&mdash;'you've a wife?'</p>
+
+<p>The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face.</p>
+
+<p>'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you beat her?'</p>
+
+<p>'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good
+reason!'</p>
+
+<p>'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?'</p>
+
+<p>The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say,
+sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended.</p>
+
+<p>'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's
+what comes of being educated people.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open
+his mouth again the whole journey.</p>
+
+<p>The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the
+slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's
+parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small
+house with a thatched roof.</p>
+
+<p>Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each
+other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking
+pig.'</p>
+
+<p>'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other.</p>
+
+<p>'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and
+the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's
+peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming
+out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he;
+it's he&mdash;I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor
+chap!'</p>
+<br><a name="chap20"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XX</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out
+behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the
+little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a
+thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was
+standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his
+eyes to keep the sun out of them.</p>
+
+<p>The horses stopped.</p>
+
+<p>'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though
+the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get
+out; get out; let me hug you.'</p>
+
+<p>He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a
+trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway
+was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short
+striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen,
+had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly
+twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there
+was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.</p>
+
+<p>Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever.</p>
+
+<p>'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said,
+exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach,
+while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at
+all necessary, please give over.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear
+one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew
+her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little
+away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking
+eyes, and again fell on his neck.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented
+Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come
+with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and
+scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well,
+a mother's heart ...'</p>
+
+<p>His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering
+... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost
+indifferent.</p>
+
+<p>'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled
+old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he
+once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is
+done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm
+yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill
+of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your
+father's I haven't the honour of knowing....'</p>
+
+<p>'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her
+nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one
+eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should
+die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of
+thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at
+the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water&mdash;on a tray, do you
+hear?&mdash;and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned
+playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.'</p>
+
+<p>'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna.
+Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but he's a man, as the saying is, <i>ommfay</i>. And now I hope, Arina
+Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn
+your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because,
+as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.'</p>
+
+<p>The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the
+samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I
+have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is
+that nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while
+you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay
+his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old
+dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.'</p>
+
+<p>And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping
+with his slippers trodden down at heel.</p>
+
+<p>His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them&mdash;the one to
+which he led our friends&mdash;was called the study. A thick-legged table,
+littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust
+as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two
+windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps,
+some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in
+hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa,
+torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge
+cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds,
+jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner
+stood a broken galvanic battery.</p>
+
+<p>'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch,
+'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....'</p>
+
+<p>'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted.
+'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no
+butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge;
+he will be very comfortable there.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you had a lodge put up then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch.</p>
+
+<p>'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's
+summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements;
+and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I
+shall of course offer my study. <i>Suum cuique.'</i></p>
+
+<p>'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,'
+remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a
+queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.'</p>
+
+<p>'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give
+us.'</p>
+
+<p>'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?'
+observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box.</p>
+
+<p>'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the
+moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.'</p>
+
+<p>'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I
+remember.'</p>
+
+<p>'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure.</p>
+
+<p>The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared.
+'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried
+triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is
+your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come
+in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair
+of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I
+repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great
+things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?'</p>
+
+<p>'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but
+in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.'</p>
+
+<p>'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd
+much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in
+face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider,
+and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his
+coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and
+gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a
+kind of nonchalant immobility.</p>
+
+<p>'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine,
+Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by
+making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain
+that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far
+as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk
+handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's
+room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now
+alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not
+inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and
+given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty;
+common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors
+do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I see you have here <i>The Friend of Health</i> for 1855,' remarked
+Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch
+made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of
+phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to
+Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided
+into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and
+Rademacher.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked
+Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course,
+gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here
+to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a
+Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism&mdash;they
+seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great
+men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of
+Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years
+it will be his turn to be laughed at.'</p>
+
+<p>'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that nowadays
+we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any one.'</p>
+
+<p>'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little
+smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps&mdash;I am not going
+to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, <i>volla-too;</i> now fate has
+made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he
+addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights
+in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into
+contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you
+now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They
+were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here
+Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but
+my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything
+else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real
+soldier.'</p>
+
+<p>'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of
+course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving
+along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little
+garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and
+raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young
+gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: <i>in herbis
+verbis et lapidibus</i>.... I've retired from practice, you know, of
+course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought
+back to my old work. They come for advice&mdash;I can't drive them away.
+Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are
+no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired
+major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question,
+"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he
+does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What
+do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!'</p>
+
+<p>'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely.</p>
+
+<p>'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily
+Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had
+gone <i>ad patres;</i> the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no
+longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and
+asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he
+hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back
+again. Ha! ha! ha!'</p>
+
+<p>The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his
+face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way
+for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out
+to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and
+clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must
+be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife
+will give you more satisfaction.'</p>
+
+<p>The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even
+abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost
+black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known
+merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were
+a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them
+away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch
+had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger
+generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a
+high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke
+down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband
+had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears
+herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate
+anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago.
+Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the
+first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and
+one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper,
+poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down
+during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively
+beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at
+Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina
+Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat;
+leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the
+little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple
+good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take
+her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to
+know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him.</p>
+
+<p>'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After
+the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned
+with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we
+do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive
+occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass,
+proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off
+his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her
+wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for
+preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his
+duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly
+made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once
+smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and
+cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to
+admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he
+whispered to Arkady&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a
+recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some
+of the trees beloved of Horace.'</p>
+
+<p>'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh ... acacias.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov began to yawn.</p>
+
+<p>'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,'
+observed Vassily Ivanovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea.
+It is time, certainly.'</p>
+
+<p>As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead,
+while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her
+blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room,
+and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.'
+And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was
+a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each
+other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's
+room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was
+looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him
+away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With
+wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories
+of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had
+time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina
+Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long,
+long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her
+mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a
+mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and
+wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a
+wave of his hand gave it up in despair.</p>
+
+<p>Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times;
+she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days.
+She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling,
+charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the
+prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in
+unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate
+specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of
+the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights
+did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of
+buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked
+on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where
+there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his
+breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of
+leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats,
+of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and
+dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese,
+asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut
+water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she
+could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating&mdash;and fasted
+rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four&mdash;and never went to
+bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had
+never read a single book except <i>Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest;</i>
+she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in
+housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she
+never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her
+place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all
+stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it
+is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them&mdash;and so
+she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but
+she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a
+single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one,
+though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had
+played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of
+many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against
+her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son
+she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of
+the property to Vassily Ivanovitch&mdash;and now did not interfere in
+anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her
+eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began
+to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was
+apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began
+to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are
+not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!</p>
+<br><a name="chap21"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXI</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met
+his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt
+round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging
+in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his
+spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?'</p>
+
+<p>'Capitally,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for
+late turnips. The time has come now&mdash;and thank God for it!&mdash;when every
+one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to
+reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean
+Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman,
+you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant
+woman, who complained of looseness&mdash;that's how they express it, but in
+our language, dysentery&mdash;I ... how can I express it best? I
+administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an
+anæsthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do
+<i>gratis</i>&mdash;<i>anamatyer (en amateur).</i> I'm used to it, though; you see,
+I'm a plebeian, <i>homo novus</i>&mdash;not one of the old stock, not like my
+spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to
+breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady went out to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a
+military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I
+know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones
+of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage
+roof.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great
+ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite
+simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the
+world too&mdash;I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a
+psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I
+will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to
+grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I
+tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I
+observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he
+usually does&mdash;no doubt you are aware of it&mdash;very early, and went a
+ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire&mdash;have you known my
+son long?'</p>
+
+<p>'Since last winter.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed. And permit me to question you further&mdash;but hadn't we better
+sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your
+opinion of my Yevgeny?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady
+answered emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were
+suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>'And so you expect,' he began ...</p>
+
+<p>'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future
+before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of
+that ever since I first met him.'</p>
+
+<p>'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort.
+His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave
+it.</p>
+
+<p>'Would you like me to tell you how we met?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes ... and altogether....'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater
+warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he
+danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his
+handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat,
+ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down
+to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly
+happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ...
+idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of&mdash;we all know what mothers
+are!&mdash;but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't
+like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many
+people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and
+regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him
+ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here,
+for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a
+constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never
+from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help,
+that's God's truth!'</p>
+
+<p>'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady
+Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that
+some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son
+of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his
+greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old
+man's voice broke.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady pressed his hand.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short
+silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the
+celebrity you anticipate for him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be
+one of the leading scientific men.'</p>
+
+<p>'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie.</p>
+
+<p>'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka,
+coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the
+raspberries?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some
+more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a
+visit to your friend; but you were too late, <i>amice,</i> and we have
+already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea,
+mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'What about?'</p>
+
+<p>'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus....</p>
+
+<p>'You mean jaundice?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed
+him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him
+soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more
+decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you
+can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come
+in to tea.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed
+from <i>Robert le Diable</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem3">
+	<tr><td><small>'The rule, the rule we set ourselves,<br>
+		&nbsp;To live, to live for pleasure!'</small></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window.</p>
+
+<p>It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken
+whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks
+crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one
+who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere,
+high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk.
+Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under
+themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and
+fragrant grass.</p>
+
+<p>'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows
+at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those
+days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a
+peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not
+understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now
+I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.'</p>
+
+<p>'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life,
+wandering from town to town for the most part.'</p>
+
+<p>'And has this house been standing long?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. My grandfather built it&mdash;my mother's father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who was he&mdash;your grandfather?'</p>
+
+<p>'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always
+telling stories about the crossing of the Alps&mdash;inventions probably.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like
+these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned;
+and there's always a special sort of scent about them.'</p>
+
+<p>'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the
+flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with
+you when you were a child?'</p>
+
+<p>'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am, Arkady.'</p>
+
+<p>'How fond they are of you!'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?'
+he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head.</p>
+
+<p>'No. What is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty
+is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring
+people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants&mdash;having a
+festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful
+of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to
+think of herself; while I ...'</p>
+
+<p>'While you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so
+infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am
+not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in
+which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I
+have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical
+point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting
+something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?'</p>
+
+<p>'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now&mdash;my
+parents, I mean&mdash;are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their
+own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing
+but weariness and anger.'</p>
+
+<p>'Anger? why anger?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?'</p>
+
+<p>'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right
+to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all
+modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the
+hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough
+of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned
+over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a
+half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her
+resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the
+sentiment of pity&mdash;make the most of it&mdash;not like us conscientious
+self-destructive animals!'</p>
+
+<p>'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I
+haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over!
+You shall not hear another word from me about it.'</p>
+
+<p>Both the friends lay for some time in silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side
+view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here,
+one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are
+acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not,
+you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only
+to abuse them.'</p>
+
+<p>'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of
+significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively.</p>
+
+<p>'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one
+could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness,
+pettiness, that's what's insufferable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.'</p>
+
+<p>'What? What do you mean by that term?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial,
+that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a
+common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to
+say, but in reality it's one and the same.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the truth is&mdash;where, which side?'</p>
+
+<p>'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?'</p>
+
+<p>'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't
+stand so many raspberries either.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's
+asleep.'</p>
+
+<p>'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real
+man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey
+or hate.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how
+could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself
+much.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have
+you a high opinion of yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he
+said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of
+myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our
+bailiff Philip's cottage&mdash;it's the one that's so nice and clean&mdash;well,
+you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a
+house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it
+about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this
+Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and
+who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why,
+suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing
+out of me,&mdash;well what do I gain by it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to
+agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.'</p>
+
+<p>'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles&mdash;you've not
+made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on
+them.'</p>
+
+<p>'How so?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my
+sensations; I like to deny&mdash;my brain's made on that plan, and that's
+all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?&mdash;by
+virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men
+will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I
+shan't tell you so another time.'</p>
+
+<p>'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should rather think so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ...</p>
+
+<p>'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother.
+If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your
+own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the
+silence of sleep," said Pushkin.'</p>
+
+<p>'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have&mdash;and ought to have said
+it. By the way, he must have been a military man.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pushkin never was a military man!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's
+honour!"'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.'</p>
+
+<p>'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me
+with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he
+deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.'</p>
+
+<p>'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation.</p>
+
+<p>'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them
+slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men.
+Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another
+in silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is
+falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's
+flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay&mdash;like brightness and life.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat
+of you; no fine talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An
+idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's
+positively indecent.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what is decent? Abuse?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's
+footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had
+heard you!'</p>
+
+<p>'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.'</p>
+
+<p>'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've
+noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up
+everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his
+brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief&mdash;that's too
+much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine&mdash;and
+no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least
+family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a
+sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't
+judge of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I
+bow down before him and say no more.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once
+in earnest....'</p>
+
+<p>'But then perhaps we should end by ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic
+surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't
+matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a
+minute.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and
+prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck
+him as so vindictive&mdash;there was such menace in grim earnest in the
+smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt
+instinctively afraid.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch
+was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared
+before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a
+straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere
+for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're
+excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you
+know, there's a special significance in that?'</p>
+
+<p>'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled
+Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he
+interrupted us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's
+hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks.</p>
+
+<p>'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying
+meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather
+cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a
+top,&mdash;'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much
+strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents!
+Positively, a Castor and Pollux!'</p>
+
+<p>'Get along with you&mdash;going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You
+can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to
+remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose&mdash;didn't you?'</p>
+
+<p>'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.'</p>
+
+<p>'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man.
+'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you
+compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to
+you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare
+you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you
+know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother
+wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must
+not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving&mdash;it is
+over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...'</p>
+
+<p>'The village parson?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not
+anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came
+about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna
+... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.'</p>
+
+<p>'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I
+spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I,
+an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not
+dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service.
+He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much
+wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's
+no objection even to cards, and he sometimes&mdash;but this is between
+ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.'</p>
+
+<p>'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean
+him out.'</p>
+
+<p>'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush.</p>
+
+<p>'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to
+acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I
+have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you.
+I shan't be in your way, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your
+present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military
+bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a
+haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many,
+many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will
+tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.'</p>
+
+<p>'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we
+know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily
+Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked
+off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague.
+'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing
+to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on
+aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.'</p>
+
+<p>Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed
+hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared
+to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the
+first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding
+beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself
+in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own
+dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at
+the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small
+glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but
+did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The
+only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly
+raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his
+face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the
+green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms,
+and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper
+money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of
+Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did
+not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she
+only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to
+caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her
+caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to
+'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,'
+he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that
+day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the
+bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and
+crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the
+peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly
+on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was
+to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be
+seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression
+of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some
+short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently
+laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?'</p>
+
+<p>'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were
+compassionately, and he stroked his beard.</p>
+
+<p>'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch, leading an ace.</p>
+
+<p>'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he
+trumped the ace.</p>
+
+<p>'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina
+Vlasyevna.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm
+bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place
+again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at
+any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study
+is at your disposal&mdash;nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time
+he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself
+away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing
+the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to
+say to her.'</p>
+
+<p>'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall come back again to them.'</p>
+
+<p>'When?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.'</p>
+
+<p>'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny.
+She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This
+morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly,
+interestingly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?'</p>
+
+<p>'We didn't talk only about you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's
+conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.'</p>
+
+<p>'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always
+making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day;
+he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite
+right too&mdash;yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror&mdash;he did
+quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father
+had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was
+greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever....
+Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could
+make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At
+last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he
+observed, with a feigned yawn&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our
+horses to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and I'm going with him.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ...
+only ... only.... How is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again
+later.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his
+handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground.
+'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with
+us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather
+little; rather little, Yevgeny!'</p>
+
+<p>'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to
+go.'</p>
+
+<p>'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in
+readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this.
+She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to
+decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention
+that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch,
+standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with
+trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged
+him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to
+eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men
+liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I
+don't want to hamper you ... not ...'</p>
+
+<p>He suddenly ceased, and made for the door.</p>
+
+<p>'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.'</p>
+
+<p>But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand
+and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed,
+and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up.
+She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being
+comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your
+travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our
+feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have
+mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice.
+Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell
+her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was
+dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands;
+even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots.
+Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to
+put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but
+his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his
+son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and
+could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent
+two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after
+repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's
+time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took
+his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was
+ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer
+any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch,
+all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room;
+when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed
+suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the
+steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He
+has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was
+dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina
+Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey
+head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece
+cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his
+pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we
+sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you
+unchanged for ever, as you for me.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife,
+his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted
+him in his grief.</p>
+<br><a name="chap22"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our
+friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased
+with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that
+causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The
+coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired,
+'To the right or to the left?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there
+home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter?
+It's not the first time.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at
+last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having
+resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent
+than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured.</p>
+
+<p>Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house,
+the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving
+way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected.
+They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the
+drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them
+with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return;
+and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures
+and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce
+that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the
+town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation,
+begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The
+princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even
+more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her
+room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see
+Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in
+insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both
+listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that
+her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive.</p>
+
+<p>'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay
+attention to that, and come again&mdash;I say this to both of you&mdash;before
+long.'</p>
+
+<p>Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats
+in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home
+to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following
+day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other
+even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular,
+scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away
+from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity.</p>
+
+<p>At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The
+prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch
+uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa,
+dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and
+informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel
+Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and
+smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers.
+Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper,
+which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up
+some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and
+partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he
+kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the
+servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down
+like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr
+was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a
+Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and
+plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small
+preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts;
+nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and
+poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on
+the farm sprang up every day&mdash;senseless, distressing difficulties. The
+troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked
+for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while
+others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses
+fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work
+was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from
+Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was
+ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt
+down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with
+a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true,
+maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan
+of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer
+suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat
+when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch
+in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a
+half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was
+generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did
+not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber;
+almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows
+of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch
+would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after
+the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their
+returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling
+among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their
+wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the
+squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the
+whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the
+master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and
+judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the
+women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the
+contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while
+that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were
+not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the
+most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for
+a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most
+shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the
+corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with
+the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded
+prompt payment, in full, of interest due....</p>
+
+<p>'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair.
+'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my
+principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them
+without the fear of punishment!'</p>
+
+<p><i>'Du calme, du calme,'</i> Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but
+even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his
+moustache.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not
+for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival
+at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his
+chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the
+contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to
+make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing,
+and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted
+upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any
+aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the
+land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady,
+to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former
+days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told
+him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov&mdash;and
+that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get
+away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use.
+In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai
+Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by
+Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he
+got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in
+twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these
+half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though
+he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go.
+'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering&mdash;she had
+added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled
+the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and
+timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the
+secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without
+the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten
+days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying
+the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again,
+and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission,
+he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both
+frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The
+great thing is&mdash;one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His
+driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public
+house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when
+he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the
+familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through
+Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses
+galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now
+the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue
+of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of
+a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under
+the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she
+recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses,
+leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried,
+gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the
+garden; she will be pleased to see you.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a
+particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she
+were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no
+steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight
+of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing
+footsteps, she turned slowly round.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him
+at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing
+voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and
+wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you
+certainly don't expect.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.'</p>
+<br><a name="chap23"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXIII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to
+understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object
+of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was
+overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel
+Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively
+aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more
+in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel
+Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the <i>nihilist</i> on the subject
+of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the
+Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking
+with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I,
+at least, have not the honour of understanding you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding
+anything&mdash;how the æther vibrates, and what's going on in the sun&mdash;but
+how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's
+incapable of understanding.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and
+he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's
+experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the
+very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria
+swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort
+of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited
+Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as
+he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken
+off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific
+researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and
+look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet
+question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the
+conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other
+topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if
+not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai
+Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less.
+An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The
+cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the
+neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself.
+In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms.
+He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's
+skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question,
+'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but
+scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said
+yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov
+went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in
+Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his
+heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the
+garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her,
+and she had only once been to his door to inquire&mdash;ought she to let
+Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him,
+that she was not afraid of him&mdash;she was positively freer and more at
+her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch
+himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because
+she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all
+that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he
+was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her
+baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly
+attacked with giddiness and headache&mdash;she took a spoonful of medicine
+from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a
+distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but
+from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more
+afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would
+suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth
+behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face,
+and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on
+one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in
+response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the
+least suspicion of the fact, had become the <i>cruel tyrant</i> of her
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively
+transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind
+expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of
+jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There
+is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand
+and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka.
+Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and
+whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she
+could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and
+ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected
+in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work;
+her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at
+all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic
+helplessness.</p>
+
+<p>'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had
+made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which
+had not yet quite disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's
+utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no
+shade in the garden.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing
+his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk,
+came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering,
+but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and
+had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a
+whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good
+morning to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her
+kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare
+to the elbow.</p>
+
+<p>'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are
+you making a nosegay?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!'</p>
+
+<p>'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out.
+One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm
+really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.'</p>
+
+<p>'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for
+the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs.
+'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, God forbid!' she cried.</p>
+
+<p>'Why? Don't you want a long life?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five
+years old&mdash;and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and
+coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a
+dreadful life!'</p>
+
+<p>'So it's better to be young?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, isn't it?'</p>
+
+<p>'But why is it better? Tell me!'</p>
+
+<p>'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do
+everything&mdash;go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for
+anything.... What can be better?'</p>
+
+<p>'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.'</p>
+
+<p>'How do you mean&mdash;it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to
+me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...'</p>
+
+<p>'That always depends on you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity
+on me.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's
+this book you have?' she asked after a short pause.</p>
+
+<p>'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.'</p>
+
+<p>'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know
+everything already I should say.'</p>
+
+<p>'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka,
+taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it's Russian.'</p>
+
+<p>'All the same, I shan't understand anything.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look
+at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little
+nose moves so nicely.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article
+on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ...
+it slipped from the seat on to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense!'</p>
+
+<p>'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she
+commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you
+care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world
+are not worth your little elbow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov picked the book up from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?'</p>
+
+<p>'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you
+know, ever since you gave me those drops&mdash;do you remember?&mdash;Mitya has
+slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good,
+really.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors,
+you know yourself, are grasping people.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish
+reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov.
+She did not know whether he was joking or not.</p>
+
+<p>'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai Petrovitch
+...'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want
+money from you.'</p>
+
+<p>'What then?' asked Fenitchka.</p>
+
+<p>'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!'</p>
+
+<p>'A likely person I am to guess!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing
+Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt
+flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her.</p>
+
+<p>'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she
+began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have&mdash;a red one or a
+white one?'</p>
+
+<p>'Red, and not too large.'</p>
+
+<p>She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her
+outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of
+the arbour, then listened.</p>
+
+<p>'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid
+of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...'</p>
+
+<p>'What?'</p>
+
+<p>'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.'
+Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose.</p>
+
+<p>'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?'</p>
+
+<p>'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember,
+you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was
+about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel
+Petrovitch about.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you
+stand up for me?'</p>
+
+<p>'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it
+liked.'</p>
+
+<p>'What hand?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you
+gave me.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to
+the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders;
+her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible.</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent
+down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips.</p>
+
+<p>She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but
+pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss.</p>
+
+<p>A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly
+moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed
+himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious
+mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered
+up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you,
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of
+genuine reproach in her whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and
+contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically
+congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay
+Lothario,' and went off to his own room.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with
+deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and
+when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously
+whether he were quite well&mdash;his face looked so gloomy.</p>
+
+<p>'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered
+tranquilly.</p>
+<br><a name="chap24"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXIV</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door.</p>
+
+<p>'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he
+began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both
+hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked
+without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five
+minutes of your time ... no more.'</p>
+
+<p>'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face
+there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch
+crossed the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single
+question to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'A question? What is it about?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement
+of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure
+of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many
+subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my
+presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general
+broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge
+of the table and folded his arms.</p>
+
+<p>'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling
+is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now&mdash;it's quite a different
+matter.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever
+your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow
+yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?'</p>
+
+<p>'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me
+from a state of incertitude.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ...
+am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable
+necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Undoubtedly.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what for, pray?'</p>
+
+<p>'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I
+prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is
+superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not
+enough for you ...'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing.</p>
+
+<p>'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a
+whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this
+pleasure, but&mdash;so be it!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and
+may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to
+resort to violent measures.'</p>
+
+<p>'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov
+remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for
+you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding.
+You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a
+gentleman.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in
+the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of
+our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it
+necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might
+serve as a pretext for my challenge?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; it's better without formalities.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the
+real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more
+is necessary?'</p>
+
+<p>'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically.</p>
+
+<p>'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall
+have no seconds&mdash;for where could we get them?'</p>
+
+<p>'Exactly so; where could we get them?'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you:
+The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind
+the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....'</p>
+
+<p>'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.'</p>
+
+<p>'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'We might.'</p>
+
+<p>'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter
+in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a
+slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very
+plausible.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur
+a suspicion of murder?'</p>
+
+<p>'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful
+reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.'</p>
+
+<p>'And whom, allow me to inquire?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Piotr.'</p>
+
+<p>'What Piotr?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of
+contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the
+<i>comilfo (comme il faut)</i> necessary in such cases.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you are joking, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced
+that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle
+under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting
+manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.'</p>
+
+<p>'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up
+from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I
+have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is
+arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?'</p>
+
+<p>'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five
+years now since I shot with them.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's a very consoling piece of news.'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only
+remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have
+the honour to take leave of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said
+Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute
+before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how
+fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained
+dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the
+question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov
+turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at
+once)&mdash;'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He
+went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the
+composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught
+sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on
+his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it&mdash;a kiss? There
+must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her
+himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a
+complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job,
+look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet
+through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ...
+and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an
+awfully bad job.'</p>
+
+<p>The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka
+gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse
+in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard
+that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in
+particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one,
+even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his
+father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table.</p>
+
+<p>'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to
+die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He
+gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning
+directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to
+Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he
+was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in
+them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with
+black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel
+Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to
+fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went
+out with him.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in
+little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on
+the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs;
+the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from
+the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov
+walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only
+then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him.
+The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the
+assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and
+look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And
+meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to
+play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a
+birch-tree, looking green with terror.</p>
+
+<p>The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it,
+untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov
+unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of
+grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!'
+The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked
+at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid.</p>
+
+<p>The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came
+into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses
+hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather
+strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed
+Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,'
+thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light
+check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the
+road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth.</p>
+
+<p>'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed,
+bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at
+that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I
+was unwilling to wake my man.'</p>
+
+<p>'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived
+ourselves.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's
+no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us proceed.'</p>
+
+<p>'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I don't.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols
+out of the box.</p>
+
+<p>'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,'
+added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as
+though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther
+off.'</p>
+
+<p>'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may
+get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your
+eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ...
+eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel
+Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?'</p>
+
+<p>'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground
+with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how
+many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important
+question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both
+pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is
+singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our
+second.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch.
+'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to
+warn you that I intend to fight seriously. <i>A bon entendeur, salut!'</i></p>
+
+<p>'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each
+other; but why not laugh too and unite <i>utile dulci?</i> You talk to me in
+French, while I talk to you in Latin.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he
+walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from
+the barrier, and stood still.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Perfectly.'</p>
+
+<p>'We can approach one another.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand
+thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle
+of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov,
+'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable
+sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.'</p>
+
+<p>Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant
+there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,'
+had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and
+without taking aim, pressed the spring.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A
+stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you
+wounded?' he said.</p>
+
+<p>'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel
+Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement,
+each of us has the right to one more shot.'</p>
+
+<p>'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov,
+catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale.
+'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your
+wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got
+to?'</p>
+
+<p>'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch
+declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at
+his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost
+consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried
+unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a
+look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood,
+and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he
+muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle,
+<i>vastus externus,</i> grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!...
+And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what
+a delicate skin!'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good
+fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.'</p>
+
+<p>But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did
+not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!'
+whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself.</p>
+
+<p>'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded
+gentleman with a forced smile.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'No need.... It was a momentary <i>vertigo</i>.... Help me to sit up ...
+there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch,
+and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The
+duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved
+honourably ... to-day, to-day&mdash;observe.'</p>
+
+<p>'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards
+the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about
+that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your
+leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop
+bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky.</p>
+
+<p>'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him;
+'don't dream of informing him.'</p>
+
+<p>Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two
+antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried
+not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any
+case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was
+ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt
+it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate,
+there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for
+that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing
+and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the
+other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very
+unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is
+impossible either to have things out or to separate.</p>
+
+<p>'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last.</p>
+
+<p>'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a
+brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have
+to tell him we quarrelled over politics.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all
+anglomaniacs.'</p>
+
+<p>'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us
+now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had
+driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel,
+and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of
+the 'gentlefolk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing.
+The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs.
+Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't
+understand himself!'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he
+cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother
+galloping up to us!'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who
+was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped,
+and rushed up to his brother.</p>
+
+<p>'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for
+nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay
+for it a little.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what was it all about, mercy on us!'</p>
+
+<p>'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert
+Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all
+this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting
+is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get
+into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite
+well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining
+where he was....</p>
+
+<p>'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to
+him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel
+Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The
+whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and
+joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric
+night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the
+blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of
+being kept from food.</p>
+
+<p>Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The
+doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to
+his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the
+whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in
+to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to
+meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new
+doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's
+assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his
+brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded,
+'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on
+the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often
+happens, to be sure.'</p>
+
+<p>No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the
+latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, <i>Couchez-vous,</i> and
+asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a
+glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank
+off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased
+a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered
+incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his
+brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you
+think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?'</p>
+
+<p>'What Nellie, Pavel dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'How can you ask? Princess R&mdash;&mdash;. Especially in the upper part of the
+face. <i>C'est de la même famille.'</i></p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the
+persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to
+the surface,' he thought.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch,
+clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any
+insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes later.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these
+words referred.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He
+had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects,
+and birds.</p>
+
+<p>'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting
+up to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of
+course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that
+he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you
+could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained
+by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai
+Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is
+a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that
+it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid
+publicity.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov
+remarked casually.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry
+your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the
+more distressing to me through Arkady's ...'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom
+'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a
+feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to
+him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off
+without waiting for the end of his sentence.</p>
+
+<p>When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire
+to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as
+ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous.
+He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged
+glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking
+dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But
+who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however,
+was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him
+by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha
+was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The
+originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and
+when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm,
+with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and
+muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a
+week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though
+he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with
+eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals;
+Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled
+eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went
+into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every
+one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only
+person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day
+used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they
+used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence.</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented
+at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel
+Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back
+was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant
+inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more
+charming.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;the incident took place in the morning&mdash;Pavel Petrovitch felt
+better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch,
+having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the
+threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it
+down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch
+detained her.</p>
+
+<p>'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began;
+'are you busy?'</p>
+
+<p>'... I have to pour out tea.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor
+invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have
+long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?'</p>
+
+<p>'I?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at
+rest.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her
+as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly.</p>
+
+<p>'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her.</p>
+
+<p>'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is
+not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something
+incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I love him.'</p>
+
+<p>'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?'</p>
+
+<p>'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.'</p>
+
+<p>'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called
+her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai
+Petrovitch&mdash;I shouldn't care to live after that.'</p>
+
+<p>'And will you never give him up for any one?'</p>
+
+<p>'For whom could I give him up?'</p>
+
+<p>'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away
+from here?'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me
+for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'...</p>
+
+<p>'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I
+saw ...'</p>
+
+<p>'What did you see?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, there ... in the arbour.'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame
+for that?' she articulated with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at
+all?'</p>
+
+<p>'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall
+always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat
+seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful
+day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for
+it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a
+thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.'</p>
+
+<p>But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel
+Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him,
+and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his
+eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large
+solitary tear was rolling down his cheek.</p>
+
+<p>'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my
+brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to
+any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be
+loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!'</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was
+her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel
+Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into
+it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to
+time....</p>
+
+<p>'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'...</p>
+
+<p>At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him.</p>
+
+<p>The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed
+her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door
+opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy.
+Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little
+shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his
+rough country coat with his little bare toes.</p>
+
+<p>Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son
+together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai
+Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka,
+had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person.</p>
+
+<p>'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her
+Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel
+Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on
+the contrary, I am much better.'</p>
+
+<p>'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you
+going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she
+had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young
+hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried
+him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between
+you, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said
+why himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will
+carry out my one request.'</p>
+
+<p>'What request? Tell me.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea,
+depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over
+what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an
+honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you
+are setting&mdash;you, the best of men!'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean, Pavel?'</p>
+
+<p>'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you
+say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined
+opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has
+simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so
+rightly call my duty?'</p>
+
+<p>'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch
+responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in
+accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry
+ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are
+old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds.
+Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness that
+way into the bargain.'</p>
+
+<p>Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother.</p>
+
+<p>'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always
+declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and
+now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the
+leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been
+fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter;
+Fenitchka is to be my ... <i>belle soeur.'</i></p>
+
+<p>'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?'</p>
+
+<p>'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is
+against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will
+be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions <i>au
+dix-neuvième siècle?'</i></p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be
+careful.'</p>
+
+<p>The brothers embraced each other.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?'
+queried Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any
+conversation between you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Conversation between us? <i>Quelle idée!'</i></p>
+
+<p>'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and
+meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and
+consider ...'</p>
+
+<p>'But your mind is made up, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my
+heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for
+you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God
+bless you!'</p>
+
+<p>'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when
+he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away
+directly he is married, somewhere a long way off&mdash;to Dresden or
+Florence, and will live there till I&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed
+his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining
+full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man....
+And indeed he was a dead man.</p>
+<br><a name="chap25"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXV</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat
+in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground
+near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known
+among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were
+silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was
+picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and
+throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened
+impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet.
+A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold
+flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a
+patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to
+time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the
+very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting
+together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed
+not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in
+his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last;
+Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named
+in Russian <i>yasen;</i> no other tree is so lightly and brightly
+transparent <i>(yasno)</i> against the air as it is.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady
+thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for <i>talking finely.'</i></p>
+
+<p>'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which
+Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he
+weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.'
+('Relics!' thought Arkady&mdash;'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a
+little; we shall transform you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who will transform me? You?'</p>
+
+<p>'Who?&mdash;my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up
+quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before
+yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with
+Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?'</p>
+
+<p>'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.'</p>
+
+<p>'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his
+influence now?'</p>
+
+<p>Katya did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can have no opinion about him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I
+disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have
+an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like
+him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am
+different from him ... and you too are different from him.'</p>
+
+<p>'How's that?'</p>
+
+<p>'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.'</p>
+
+<p>'Am I tame too?'</p>
+
+<p>Katya nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you
+know, that's really an insult?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, would you like to be a wild&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Not wild, but strong, full of force.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish
+for it, but he has it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya
+in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you think that?'</p>
+
+<p>'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her
+independence a great deal.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through
+his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to
+wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms,
+they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a
+whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of whom?'</p>
+
+<p>'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly.</p>
+
+<p>'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn.</p>
+
+<p>'I am too, observe I said, I am <i>too.'</i></p>
+
+<p>Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began;
+'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so
+than when you first came.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady grew thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't
+it because I brought her your mother's letters?'</p>
+
+<p>'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'I shan't say.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am.'</p>
+
+<p>'And observant.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you?
+What are you thinking of?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you
+are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do
+I really keep every one at a distance?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya.</p>
+
+<p>'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position&mdash;I
+mean in your circumstances&mdash;don't often have that faculty; it is hard
+for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, you see, I am not rich.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of
+course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the
+thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he
+commented.</p>
+
+<p>'What?'</p>
+
+<p>'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of
+it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a
+kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says
+he is poor.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I
+only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>'For instance?'</p>
+
+<p>'For instance, you&mdash;forgive the question&mdash;you wouldn't marry a rich
+man, I fancy, would you?'</p>
+
+<p>'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And
+why wouldn't you marry him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.'</p>
+
+<p>'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only
+inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can
+understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've
+had enough of that as it is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he
+went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just
+as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you
+wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however
+strong and holy it might be ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya.</p>
+
+<p>'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than
+she.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly;
+'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's
+beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch,
+ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean by "you in particular"&mdash;and what makes you suppose I
+am joking?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, you are joking.'</p>
+
+<p>'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I
+have not put it strongly enough even?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't understand you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant
+than you are.'</p>
+
+<p>'How?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few
+more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but
+she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping
+to pick them up.</p>
+
+<p>'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to
+you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your
+sister, but above every one in the world.'</p>
+
+<p>He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the
+words that had fallen from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap,
+and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a
+crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not
+smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet
+undefined, feeling.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I
+thought you came into the garden with Arkady.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately
+dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the
+tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his
+room.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you been reading together?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up.</p>
+
+<p>'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand.</p>
+
+<p>'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to
+suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for.
+They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I
+noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think
+enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are
+nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your
+little feet. But you're not vain.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her
+beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with
+her, went away too&mdash;but not to try on her shoes.</p>
+
+<p>'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted
+the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the
+sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at
+them.'</p>
+
+<p>But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly
+upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken
+him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here
+long?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce
+him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running
+hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of
+Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very
+probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though
+still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over
+his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he
+did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations
+on his neck.</p>
+
+<p>'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating,
+bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes
+to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home;
+every one's well, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov.
+'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and
+listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty
+vigorous sentences.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel
+Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he
+did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his
+uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that
+it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave
+a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were
+ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with
+feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find
+yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my
+father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to
+tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a
+piece of foolery. No, I turned in here&mdash;the devil only knows why. You
+see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the
+scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed;
+that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more
+look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some
+emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him.</p>
+
+<p>'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me <i>you</i> have given me
+up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna
+Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By
+the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell
+me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage
+of discretion?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you,
+I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you
+needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A
+sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to
+part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny ...'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much
+more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say
+good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a
+loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the
+governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the
+horses out.'</p>
+
+<p>'Upon my word, this is too much!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last
+degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you're mistaken there.'</p>
+
+<p>'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what
+are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on
+her account yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.'</p>
+
+<p>But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a
+summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going
+to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able
+to get it out easily.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so
+unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She
+held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an
+involuntary sense of tension.</p>
+
+<p>'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I
+must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come
+to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his
+follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will
+allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but
+cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me
+with repugnance.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high
+mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand
+a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure.</p>
+
+<p>'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so
+because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for
+flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was
+a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?'</p>
+
+<p>'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely
+imaginary feeling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really? I am very glad to hear that.'</p>
+
+<p>So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they
+were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in
+their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could
+the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as
+though they completely believed one another.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been
+doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his
+duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought
+that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and
+answered that he had been at work all the time.</p>
+
+<p>'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first,
+goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then
+it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into
+my old routine, and took up my real part again.'</p>
+
+<p>'What part is that, may I ask?'</p>
+
+<p>'The character of aunt, guardian, mother&mdash;call it what you like. By the
+way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship
+with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I
+have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's
+young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me,
+Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she
+went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to
+avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's
+more friends with Katya.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he
+thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly
+smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with
+you?'</p>
+
+<p>'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips.</p>
+
+<p>'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you
+didn't know it, and I've told you something new?'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And
+don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much
+importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined
+to exaggeration.'</p>
+
+<p>'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into
+another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had
+told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she
+was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was
+jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So
+people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world
+as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch
+occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at
+once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm,
+betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began
+to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at
+last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess
+and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the
+house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an
+hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden
+himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin
+propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They
+were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna
+Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as
+once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to
+be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something.</p>
+<br><a name="chap26"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXVI</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated
+'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up
+in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the
+fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall
+at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for
+statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These
+statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy,
+Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her
+finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day
+some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of
+the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as
+the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still
+to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood
+many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women.
+The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick
+bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense
+green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna
+had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake
+there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of
+the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to
+read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect
+peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in
+the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that
+flows for ever both around us and within us.</p>
+
+<p>The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite
+stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought
+her to come with him to the 'temple.'</p>
+
+<p>There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had
+already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the
+expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her
+sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room,
+and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a
+little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with
+Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to
+attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this,
+even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and
+Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of
+some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said
+to herself that it was for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since
+I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have
+discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one,
+very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched
+upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed
+here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance
+Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and
+you know that better than any one else&mdash;you to whom I really owe this
+change.'</p>
+
+<p>'I?... Me?...' said Katya.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went
+on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be
+useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer
+look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much
+closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself
+tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately,
+thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but
+I hope you understand me.'</p>
+
+<p>Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while
+above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of
+the birch&mdash;'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those
+... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him,
+and so I ... I resolved ...'</p>
+
+<p>But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread,
+stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did
+not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up
+to in all this, and to be waiting for something.</p>
+
+<p>'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself
+together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates
+in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you
+remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with
+the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking
+further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the
+hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed
+... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it;
+and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!'
+Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn
+her head.) 'If I could hope ...'</p>
+
+<p>'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the
+clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes
+that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking
+along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but
+they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very
+breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood
+still just opposite the temple.</p>
+
+<p>'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are
+both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are
+tired; we are both&mdash;why affect not to know it?&mdash;clever; at first we
+interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...'</p>
+
+<p>'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however,
+it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point;
+there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We
+did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...'</p>
+
+<p>'So you need him?' queried Bazarov.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me,
+and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his
+aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think
+more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special
+charm ...'</p>
+
+<p>'The word <i>fascination</i> is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov
+interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his
+choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with
+me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a
+serious symptom.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and
+I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such
+intimacy between them.'</p>
+
+<p>'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov
+brought out, drawling.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a
+strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I
+should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at
+the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.'</p>
+
+<p>'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second
+place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am
+good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a
+corpse.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began;
+but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried
+away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a
+brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated
+... everything was still.</p>
+
+<p>Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her
+head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking
+voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever
+and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this,
+to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am
+not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me?
+You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these
+last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that
+everything&mdash;understand me&mdash;everything else has vanished long ago and
+left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you
+... believe me!'</p>
+
+<p>Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long
+hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina
+Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you
+believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her
+large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to
+his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat,
+'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling
+gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the
+eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and
+gratitude, a man may be happy on earth.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon
+Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded
+sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her
+sister's hand.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control
+himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was
+instantaneously aflame in his breast.</p>
+
+<p>'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday
+imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you
+intending to do now?'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt
+anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she
+had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's
+a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's
+the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to
+thwart him.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed
+and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ...
+I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I
+will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him.
+But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you
+we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what
+amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head
+away.</p>
+
+<p>'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and
+he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I
+hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and
+I will rejoice from a distance.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why
+should you not stay <i>now?</i> Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ...
+one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid,
+but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering
+opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been
+moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold
+out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the
+water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a
+bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity
+for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a
+poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck
+to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna
+Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture.</p>
+
+<p>'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away.</p>
+
+<p>'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day
+to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a
+capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected
+something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took
+you by surprise yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered
+Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital
+thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm
+doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting
+hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up
+with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you
+remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina
+Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can
+sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it
+so well that she'll have you under her thumb&mdash;to be sure, though,
+that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from
+the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive
+ourselves&mdash;we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you
+have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely
+existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of
+youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get
+beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good.
+You won't fight&mdash;and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps&mdash;but we
+mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud
+would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're
+admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but
+we're sick of that&mdash;we want something else! we want to smash other
+people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for
+all that&mdash;<i>ay volla-too,</i> as my parent is fond of saying.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady
+mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other
+things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's
+sentimentalism&mdash;that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as
+you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content.
+They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha!
+I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every
+one.... What now? embracing, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and
+the tears fairly gushed from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I
+rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll
+console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into
+the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by
+side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that
+example.'</p>
+
+<p>'What does that mean?' asked Arkady.</p>
+
+<p>'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that
+the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!...
+Good-bye!'</p>
+
+<p>The cart creaked and rolled away.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady
+completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow
+her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He
+was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch.
+Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young
+people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by
+themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess
+out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful
+frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna
+was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to
+herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did
+not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna
+Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov
+was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity,
+and love of ease, and egoism ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely
+imaginary feeling?'</p>
+
+<p>But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with
+her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard
+haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest;
+and it was not difficult for her&mdash;she had set her own mind at rest.</p>
+<br><a name="chap27"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXVII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's
+arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly
+excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that
+Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of
+her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike
+appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece
+of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head
+round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on,
+then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly
+noiseless chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him.
+'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!'
+answered Vassily Ivanovitch.</p>
+
+<p>He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study,
+he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all
+superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my
+dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser
+this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small
+compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now
+absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say
+sometimes&mdash;and before he had time to look round, she was nervously
+fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never
+mind, I only&mdash;&mdash;' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch
+and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find
+out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day&mdash;cabbage-broth
+or beetroot-soup?'&mdash;'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'&mdash;'Oh, he will
+get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up; the
+fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or vague
+restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his
+movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He
+gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in
+the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily
+Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after
+Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but
+his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he
+complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or
+angry&mdash;that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful&mdash;that's what's
+so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing
+thin, he's lost his colour.'&mdash;'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the
+old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't
+allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most
+circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his
+health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and
+casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead
+up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation:
+'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's
+worse than the old one.'&mdash;'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily
+Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained
+fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning
+<i>à propos</i> of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk
+about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I
+was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead
+of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.'</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering
+tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say
+to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say
+all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch
+in history will be started by you&mdash;you give us our real language and
+our laws.'</p>
+
+<p>The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this
+sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....'</p>
+
+<p>'You explain to me what your <i>mir</i> is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it
+the same <i>mir</i> that is said to rest on three fishes?'</p>
+
+<p>'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the
+peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal,
+simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the
+<i>mir,</i> we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our
+fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the
+peasant.'</p>
+
+<p>After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders
+contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly
+homewards.</p>
+
+<p>'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and
+surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been
+following his conversation with Bazarov.&mdash;'Arrears? eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there
+was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary,
+there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he
+clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a
+bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?'</p>
+
+<p>'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking
+back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to
+deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging
+his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants
+(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in
+his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the
+while something of the nature of a buffooning clown.</p>
+
+<p>He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily
+Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old
+man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son
+helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his
+practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at
+the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make
+use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily
+Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy
+dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his
+pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more
+malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted
+father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to
+repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for
+instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason,
+reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his
+son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that
+expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered
+to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover,
+the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him
+with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's
+cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of
+Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking
+God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you
+will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you
+know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no
+better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that
+she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words
+she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and
+rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a
+towel.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and
+though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved
+it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father
+Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar
+seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it
+up!'</p>
+
+<p>'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what
+answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man.</p>
+
+<p>One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to
+Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a
+truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he
+had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his
+regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and
+declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his
+brother home again; he died in the cart.</p>
+
+<p>Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if
+he had any caustic.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; what do you want it for?'</p>
+
+<p>'I must have some ... to burn a cut.'</p>
+
+<p>'For whom?'</p>
+
+<p>'For myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where
+they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to
+open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of
+that sort for a long while.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without
+uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once
+with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go
+away.</p>
+
+<p>'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one.
+Do I hurt?'</p>
+
+<p>'Press harder; don't be afraid.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be
+better to burn it with hot iron?'</p>
+
+<p>'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless,
+really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.'</p>
+
+<p>'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the
+words.</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district
+doctor no caustic?'</p>
+
+<p>'No.'</p>
+
+<p>'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable
+thing as that!'</p>
+
+<p>'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily
+Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's
+room; and though far from referring to the cut&mdash;he even tried to talk
+about the most irrelevant subjects&mdash;he looked so persistently into his
+face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience
+and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to
+bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course,
+he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not
+sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself
+in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept
+watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear
+it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a
+single dish.</p>
+
+<p>'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of
+the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely
+cooked.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it
+ache?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Of course, it aches.'</p>
+
+<p>Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't
+you let me feel your pulse?'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm
+feverish.'</p>
+
+<p>'Has there been any shivering?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can
+send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina
+Vlasyevna.</p>
+
+<p>'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away.</p>
+
+<p>Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction
+of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and
+clutched at his hair in silent desperation.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in
+heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening
+his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's
+pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged
+his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the
+cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did
+not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very
+little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,'
+and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his
+motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint
+consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with
+giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily
+Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and
+asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the
+wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she
+bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed
+suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a
+shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to
+comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to
+the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various
+questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his
+armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He
+went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as
+though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of
+amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his
+son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at
+last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with
+him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in
+reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself
+taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a
+doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he
+should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed
+dull look on his father, and asked for drink.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his
+forehead. It seemed on fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way;
+I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.'</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow
+at his legs.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you!
+You've caught cold!'</p>
+
+<p>'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to
+talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!'</p>
+
+<p>'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed
+his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror.</p>
+
+<p>'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's
+something like ... infection ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Pyæmia,' put in his son.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...'</p>
+
+<p>'Pyæmia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten
+your text-books?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well&mdash;as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die
+so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and
+mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's
+the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want
+to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control.
+To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation.
+I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly.
+While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running
+round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a
+woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?'</p>
+
+<p>'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.'</p>
+
+<p>'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to
+comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...'</p>
+
+<p>'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man.</p>
+
+<p>'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh,
+yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be
+surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame
+Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?'
+(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his
+greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die,
+Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?'</p>
+
+<p>'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll
+go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and
+nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.'</p>
+
+<p>He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch
+went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom,
+simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures.</p>
+
+<p>'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.'</p>
+
+<p>The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived,
+and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a
+cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of
+recovery.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state <i>not</i> set off for
+Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy
+table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away.
+'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here
+still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned
+from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will
+disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a
+short pause&mdash;'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her
+exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do
+believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a
+Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?'</p>
+
+<p>'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly
+streamed down his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as
+is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not
+lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still
+struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his
+fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten
+from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one
+possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing
+nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ...
+mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an
+effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him,
+ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe
+and something 'warming and strengthening'&mdash;that's to say, brandy. Arina
+Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time
+to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of
+her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen
+of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone
+off to Madame Odintsov's.</p>
+
+<p>The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high
+fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina
+Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of
+tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at
+hand!'</p>
+
+<p>'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's
+found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding
+thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for
+instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a
+clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved
+Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.</p>
+
+<p>'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were
+clapping his hands.</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov smiled mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?'</p>
+
+<p>'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered
+Vassily Ivanovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you
+remember? did you send?'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure I did.'</p>
+
+<p>The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its
+onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as
+though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was
+several times on the point of speaking&mdash;and could not.</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!'</p>
+
+<p>This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He
+turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the
+load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it,
+father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before
+Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him.
+'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make
+use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a
+Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but
+still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little,
+what ...'</p>
+
+<p>The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's
+face, though he still lay with closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at
+last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say
+yourself I am better.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's
+hands, and in doing the duty ...'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the
+crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament
+to men who're unconscious, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny, I beg.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.'
+And he laid his head back on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and,
+clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ...</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is
+peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon
+his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the
+neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up
+and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his
+little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed
+abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush
+of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in
+livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a
+black mantle was getting out of it ...</p>
+
+<p>'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living?
+You are his father? I have a doctor with me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he
+pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna
+Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped
+very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is
+living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven
+has come to us....'</p>
+
+<p>'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of
+the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in
+the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments
+like a mad woman.</p>
+
+<p>'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did
+not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an
+angel!'</p>
+
+<p><i>'Wo ist der Kranke?</i> and where is the patient?' said the doctor at
+last, with some impatience.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me,
+würdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna
+Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and
+she herself is here.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?'</p>
+
+<p>'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a
+doctor, to you.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with
+the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since
+Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone,
+and we will have a little consultation.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in
+Latin; you see, I know the meaning of <i>jam moritur.'</i></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein</i>,' began the new
+follower of Æsculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Ich</i> ... <i>gabe</i> ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation
+began.</p>
+
+<p>Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch,
+came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it
+was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly
+was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face,
+with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a
+sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not
+have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously
+through her brain.</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of
+mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.'</p>
+
+<p>'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ...</p>
+
+<p>'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy,
+now?'</p>
+
+<p>With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame.</p>
+
+<p>Vassily Ivanovitch went out.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they
+say, visit the dying too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm
+under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the
+future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far
+I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's
+all up!&mdash;&mdash;' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to you
+... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less than
+ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking up.
+Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so beautiful
+...'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder.</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to
+me; you know, my illness is catching.'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair
+near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.</p>
+
+<p>'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh,
+and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long,
+that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time.
+You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing
+still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I
+wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a
+giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently,
+though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm
+not going to turn tail.'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna
+Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing
+her breath timorously.</p>
+
+<p>'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the
+living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's
+nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort
+the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't
+to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a
+candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed.
+And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the
+butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm
+getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...'</p>
+
+<p>Bazarov put his hand to his brow.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...'</p>
+
+<p>He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their
+last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you
+then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ...
+darkness ...'</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in
+a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not
+fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness,
+and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites
+of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction,
+when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as
+though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking
+censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror
+passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his
+last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily
+Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he
+shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his
+fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I
+rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both
+fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related
+afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like
+lambs at noonday ...'</p>
+
+<p>But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then,
+too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the
+weary and heavy laden....</p>
+<br><a name="chap28"></a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII</h4>
+<br>
+
+<p>Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel
+stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the
+rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke
+above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when
+they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung
+by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day
+was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in
+the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There
+were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch
+in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid
+the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two
+weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses&mdash;Arkady
+and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day
+Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was
+going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also
+directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome
+presents to the young people.</p>
+
+<p>Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was
+placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade.
+Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the
+'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had
+changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better
+looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an
+elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And
+Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet
+head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with
+deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything
+surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your
+pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone&mdash;all the others smiled,
+and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little
+sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with
+humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a
+sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked
+confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was
+already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his
+glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began;
+'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I
+... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it
+is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.'</p>
+
+<p>'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say,
+let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as
+quickly as you can!'</p>
+
+<p>Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not
+excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which
+she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass
+which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be
+happy, my friends! <i>Farewell!'</i> This English finale passed unnoticed;
+but all were touched.</p>
+
+<p>'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as
+she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in
+response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud.</p>
+
+<p>The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care
+to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the
+present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him.</p>
+
+<p>Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good
+sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a
+lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and
+remarkable fluency&mdash;still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They
+live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain
+complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K&mdash;&mdash; is dead,
+forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at
+Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become
+zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a
+fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the
+mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works
+with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district;
+delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants
+ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought
+to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of
+the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete
+satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with <i>chic,</i> or
+depression of the <i>emancipation</i> (pronouncing it as though it were
+French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the
+damned <i>'mancipation.'</i> He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina
+Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and
+talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and
+Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the
+latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her
+side.</p>
+
+<p>A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity
+and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry
+with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had
+refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while
+Piotr had not only a watch&mdash;he had a pair of kid shoes.</p>
+
+<p>In the Brühl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock&mdash;the most
+fashionable time for walking&mdash;you may meet a man about fifty, quite
+grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome,
+elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by
+moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel
+Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and
+has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English
+and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost
+modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect
+him for being, as they say, <i>'a perfect gentleman.'</i> With Russians he
+is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of
+himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability,
+negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known
+that in the highest society this is regarded as <i>très distingué!</i> He
+reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver
+ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after
+by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary
+opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom,
+however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one
+can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for
+the theatre, and such things as <i>der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff</i>. He does
+everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise
+in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society
+lion;&mdash;but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he
+suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church,
+when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and
+remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then
+suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing
+himself....</p>
+
+<p>Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now
+studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to
+her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises
+with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural
+science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who,
+astounding the naïve German professors at first by the soundness of
+their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the
+sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company
+with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from
+nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too,
+with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also
+getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the
+'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a
+beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article,
+hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who
+beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as
+before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man.</p>
+
+<p>There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of
+Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched
+appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the
+grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted
+gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were
+pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty
+shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is
+one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it
+and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young
+fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried
+in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite
+feeble old people come to visit it&mdash;a husband and wife. Supporting one
+another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing,
+fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep,
+and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is
+lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the
+stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot
+tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their
+son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their
+tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not
+all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the
+heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at
+us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone,
+of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal
+reconciliation and of life without end.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fathers and Children, by Ivan Sergeevich
+Turgenev, Translated by Constance Clara Garnett
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Fathers and Children
+
+
+Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev
+
+
+
+Release Date: December 21, 2009  [eBook #30723]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Ron Swanson from page images generously made available
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+(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
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+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+
+
+[Frontispiece: AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE]
+
+
+The Harvard Classics
+Shelf of Fiction
+[From Vol. 19]
+Selected by Charles W. Eliot Ll.D.
+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+
+by
+
+IVAN TURGENEV
+
+Translated by Constance Garnett
+
+Edited with Notes and Introductions by William Allan Neilson Ph.D.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+P. F. Collier & Son
+New York
+
+Published under special arrangement with
+The Macmillan Company
+
+Copyright, 1917
+By P. F. Collier & Son
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
+
+CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS:
+   I. BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGUE
+  II. BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+ III. BY K. WALISZEWSKI
+  IV. BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE
+   V. BY MAURICE BARING
+
+LIST OF CHARACTERS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+
+BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
+
+
+Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility.
+He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a
+hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was
+begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of
+Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St.
+Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the
+compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he
+returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the
+students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the
+Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests
+turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies,
+read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the
+critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable
+temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so,
+when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval
+by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself
+by the profession he had chosen.
+
+Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the
+woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A
+Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The
+first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left
+Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom
+he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained
+relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly
+in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged
+to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences
+were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He
+found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself
+under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A
+Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was
+arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years
+kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by
+the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him
+again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the
+head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates
+were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a
+wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent
+specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome,
+the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the
+stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her
+and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France
+after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near
+Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on
+September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering
+from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg
+and was buried with national honors.
+
+The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are
+characteristic in their concern with social and political questions,
+and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action.
+Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the
+universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian
+character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without
+unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian;
+yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of
+western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means,
+condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he
+surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House
+of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best.
+
+W. A. N.
+
+
+
+
+CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS
+
+
+
+
+I
+BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGUE
+
+
+Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of
+Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward;
+and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few
+modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the
+peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who
+does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not
+stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the
+intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two
+generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of
+respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience
+of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of
+life.
+
+The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His
+intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into
+Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor
+in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish
+something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for
+the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels.
+Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others.
+
+The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the
+brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally
+this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of
+feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full
+of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of
+the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate.
+It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will
+have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the
+condition of his dependents.
+
+The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of
+their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how
+to go to work to accomplish it.
+
+In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has
+little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of
+some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single
+exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or
+grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young
+girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is
+the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of
+country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is
+conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less
+intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an
+irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will.
+
+Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes,
+which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain
+from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!"
+which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of
+works of the imagination.--From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists,"
+translated by J. L. Edmands (1887).
+
+
+
+
+II
+BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+
+
+Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and
+freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame
+in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French
+novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner
+and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic
+punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the
+personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of
+peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable
+always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I
+had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with
+mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American
+horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient,
+agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me
+through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are
+passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn
+from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own
+most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air
+drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on
+the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle
+sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As
+for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and
+civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal
+human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his
+own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch.
+
+I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart
+some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had
+been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly
+content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev
+surpasses the art of Bjornson; I think Bjornson is quite as fine and
+true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances
+for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has
+to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his
+scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway,
+it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the
+actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many
+times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of
+years I read them again and again without much caring for other
+fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once
+more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less
+than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had
+reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was
+impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now
+aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always
+present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.--From "My Literary
+Passions" (1895).
+
+
+
+
+III
+BY K. WALISZEWSKI
+
+
+The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a
+storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to
+understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"--thus baptized
+by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success--is
+merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had
+been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The
+epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiejdine
+applied it to Pushkin, Polevoi, and some other subverters of the
+classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new
+interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of
+"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in
+Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to
+look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a
+figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being.
+Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest
+way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of
+insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his
+model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the
+Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his
+first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he
+is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the
+character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin,
+at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no
+educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max
+Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke
+and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual
+_Ego_. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were
+destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest
+symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev.
+
+Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in
+word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know
+what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and
+indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal
+tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of
+fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the
+first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more
+general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so
+general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev--he
+has admitted it himself--felt as if he were drawing his own portrait;
+and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so
+sympathetic.--From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900).
+
+
+
+
+IV
+BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE
+
+
+But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn
+to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and
+Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem--Has
+personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this
+figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike
+weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other
+philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion,
+and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing
+himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is
+a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but
+himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions
+of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our
+power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing
+intellect--he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of
+gigantic will--he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a
+man of intense life--he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of
+death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of
+determination against fate, of personality against impersonality.
+Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury
+by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the
+creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm,
+aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all
+the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to
+play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the
+most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others
+linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest
+of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the
+self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding
+his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding
+his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further
+examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived
+character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic
+moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that
+capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of
+life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of
+theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear
+an inward soliloquy.--From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The
+Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910).
+
+
+
+
+V
+BY MAURICE BARING
+
+
+Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English
+literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all
+Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise.
+Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a
+master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production
+since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered
+Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness
+of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first
+time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to
+paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian
+soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for
+the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed
+of praise than he was perhaps entitled to.
+
+In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's
+Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but
+universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece
+"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary
+elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a
+libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers
+and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody.
+He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia
+to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian
+criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so
+terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did
+not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and
+an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political
+struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a
+Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either
+the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in
+England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated
+opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion
+against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture
+of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far
+as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr.
+Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from
+which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on
+increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that
+was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste....
+
+"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of
+Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a
+touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word;
+the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all
+the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov
+stands out like Lucifer, the strongest--the only strong character--that
+Turgenev created, the first Nihilist--for if Turgenev was not the first
+to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense.
+
+Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and
+again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek,
+humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an
+anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man
+who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions,
+knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to
+nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is
+the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and
+
+  "not cowardly puts off his helmet,"
+
+and he dies "valiantly vanquished."
+
+In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water
+mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly
+pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than
+the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English
+novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong,
+piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more
+reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets,
+of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as
+has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The
+revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries
+a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as
+Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the
+type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists
+of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the
+fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....--From "An Outline
+of Russian Literature" (1914).
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF CHARACTERS
+
+
+NIKOLAI PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, a landowner.
+
+PAVEL PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, his brother.
+
+ARKADY (ARKASHA) NIKOLAEVITCH (_or_ NIKOLAITCH), his son.
+
+YEVGENY (ENYUSHA) VASSILYEVITCH (_or_ VASSILYITCH) BAZAROV, friend of
+Arkady.
+
+VASSILY IVANOVITCH (_or_ IVANITCH), father of Bazarov.
+
+ARINA VLASYEVNA, mother of Bazarov.
+
+FEDOSYA (FENITCHKA) NIKOLAEVNA, second wife of Nikolai.
+
+ANNA SERGYEVNA ODINTSOV, a wealthy widow.
+
+KATYA SERGYEVNA, her sister.
+
+PORFIRY PLATONITCH, her neighbor.
+
+MATVY ILYITCH KOLYAZIN, government commissioner.
+
+EVDOKSYA (_or_ AVDOTYA) NIKITISHNA KUKSHIN, an emancipated lady.
+
+VIKTOR SITNIKOV, a would-be liberal.
+
+PIOTR (_pron. P-yotr_), servant to Nikolai.
+
+PROKOFITCH, head servant to Nikolai.
+
+DUNYASHA, a maid servant.
+
+MITYA, infant of Fedosya.
+
+TIMOFEITCH, manager for Vassily.
+
+
+
+
+FATHERS AND CHILDREN
+A NOVEL
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the
+20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and
+checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of
+the posting station at S----. He was addressing his servant, a chubby
+young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre
+eyes.
+
+The servant, in whom everything--the turquoise ring in his ear, the
+streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his
+movements--indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced
+with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer:
+
+'No, sir; not in sight.'
+
+'Not in sight?' repeated his master.
+
+'No, sir,' responded the man a second time.
+
+His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce
+him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing
+thoughtfully round.
+
+His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the
+posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he
+expressed it--since he had arranged the division of his land with the
+peasants, and started 'a farm'--of nearly five thousand acres. His
+father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse,
+half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in
+harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a
+division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of
+his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was
+born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more
+hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by
+cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual
+regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a
+girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna
+Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of
+the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling
+silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she
+talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in
+the morning, and gave them her blessing at night--in fact, she got
+everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's
+son--though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even
+deserved to be called 'a funk'--was intended, like his brother Pavel,
+to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news
+of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a
+slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad
+job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg
+directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother
+happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The
+young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote
+supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an
+official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his
+wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper,
+scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets
+stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr
+Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the
+university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put
+on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to
+Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the
+Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died
+suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed
+him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she
+was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment.
+Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and
+to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter
+of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and,
+as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles
+in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the
+term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his
+father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with
+his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute,
+afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a
+draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled
+finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The
+young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever
+apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano;
+she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes
+went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and
+grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream.
+In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a
+few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if
+possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He
+returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged
+period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the
+management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university;
+he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out
+anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young
+companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we
+have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather
+bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he
+had taken it himself.
+
+The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious
+to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking
+a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the
+crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him,
+treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an
+unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was
+scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an
+odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son
+... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came
+round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else,
+and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife....
+'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue
+pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near
+the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had
+already caught the sound of approaching wheels.
+
+'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in
+from the gateway.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage
+appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage
+he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar
+outline of a dear face.
+
+'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A
+few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty,
+sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from
+travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to
+his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.'
+
+'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling
+tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own
+greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look
+at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with
+hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this
+way; and horses at once.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a
+little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him.
+
+'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov,
+about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to
+promise to stay with us.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a
+long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the
+carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did
+not at once hold out to him.
+
+'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind
+intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and
+turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch
+his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose
+flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and
+drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil
+smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence.
+
+'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,'
+continued Nikolai Petrovitch.
+
+Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply,
+but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the
+prominent bumps on his head.
+
+'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son,
+'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?'
+
+'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.'
+
+'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get
+things ready, my good boy; look sharp.'
+
+Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's
+hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the
+gateway.
+
+'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your
+coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some
+water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the
+station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver,
+who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the
+carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ...
+
+'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must
+not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so
+simple--you will see.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round.
+
+'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver.
+
+'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his
+hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what
+the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.'
+
+Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated
+shaft-horse.
+
+'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch;
+'there'll be something to drink our health with!'
+
+In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were
+installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov
+jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather
+cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said
+Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the
+knee. 'At last!'
+
+'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the
+genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as
+possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace
+channel.
+
+'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for
+some reason or other he gave up the idea.'
+
+'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady.
+
+'Oh, about five hours.'
+
+'Dear old dad!'
+
+Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss
+on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle.
+
+'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And
+your room has been fresh papered.'
+
+'And is there a room for Bazarov?'
+
+'We will find one for him too.'
+
+'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his
+friendship.'
+
+'Have you made friends with him lately?'
+
+'Yes, quite lately.'
+
+'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he
+study?'
+
+'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next
+year he wants to take his doctor's degree.'
+
+'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he
+was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand,
+'aren't those our peasants driving along?'
+
+Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with
+unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each
+cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned.
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr.
+
+'Where are they going,--to the town?'
+
+'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously,
+turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to
+him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old
+stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation.
+
+'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued
+Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent.
+What is one to do?'
+
+'But do you like your hired labourers?'
+
+'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set
+against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They
+spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When
+things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an
+interest in farming now?'
+
+'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering
+the last question.
+
+'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,'
+observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open
+air.'
+
+'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all
+nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy
+there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And
+the sky too.'
+
+Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and
+said no more.
+
+'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so
+everything is bound to strike you in a special----'
+
+'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.'
+
+'Still----'
+
+'No; it makes absolutely no difference.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage
+went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed
+between them.
+
+'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch,
+'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.'
+
+'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?'
+
+'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't
+find many changes at Maryino.'
+
+'Have you still the same bailiff?'
+
+'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about
+me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to
+intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced
+towards Piotr.) '_Il est libre, en effet_,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch
+in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a
+bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred
+and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his
+forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication
+with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would
+not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my
+duty to prepare you, though....'
+
+He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French.
+
+'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the
+first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have
+always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son.
+Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In
+short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard
+already ...'
+
+'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please....
+Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house
+... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.'
+
+'Goodness, daddy, what for?'
+
+'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...'
+
+'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.'
+
+'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so
+horrid--that's the worst of it.'
+
+'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I
+wonder you're not ashamed.'
+
+'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch,
+flushing more and more.
+
+'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately.
+'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart
+was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind,
+soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please,
+stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a
+consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand
+with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in
+his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it.
+
+'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence.
+
+'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.'
+
+'Why did you sell it?'
+
+'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.'
+
+'Who don't pay you their rent?'
+
+'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.'
+
+'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look
+about him.
+
+The country through which they were driving could not be called
+picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very
+horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some
+places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low,
+scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the
+old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little
+streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and
+little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down
+roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping
+doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some
+brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with
+crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart
+sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in
+tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks
+stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along
+the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger,
+were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as
+though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of
+some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved
+beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white
+phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts,
+and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it
+does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on
+like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry
+them out, how is one to begin?'
+
+Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the
+spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all--trees,
+bushes, grass--shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft
+breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling
+music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the
+low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the
+rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out
+black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already
+whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its
+grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly
+fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his
+father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him
+another hug.
+
+'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to
+get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on
+together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate,
+if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now,
+and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!'
+
+'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!'
+
+'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness.
+Though I agree with Pushkin--do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin--
+
+  'To me how sad thy coming is,
+   Spring, spring, sweet time of love!
+   What ...'
+
+'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've
+nothing to light my pipe with.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to
+him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a
+silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr.
+
+'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again.
+
+'Thanks,' answered Arkady.
+
+Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a
+thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing
+about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that
+Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was
+forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of
+wounding his son.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps
+of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was
+Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it,
+Poverty Farm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen;
+a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her
+there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a
+coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel
+Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the
+carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch
+with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall,
+from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's
+face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style.
+
+'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and
+shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper
+and rest.'
+
+'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching,
+and he dropped on to a sofa.
+
+'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch
+with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right
+moment comes Prokofitch.'
+
+A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a
+cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink
+neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to
+the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him.
+
+'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to
+us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?'
+
+'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he
+quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he
+said impressively.
+
+'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch?'
+
+'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box
+to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his
+frieze overcoat.
+
+'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with
+an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and
+holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady,
+are you going to your room for a minute?'
+
+'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the
+door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of
+medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low
+cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about
+forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like
+new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally
+regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate
+chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his
+clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle,
+with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth
+and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most
+part is lost after the twenties are past.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with
+its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite
+from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal,
+and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the
+European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is
+to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches,
+and said, 'Welcome.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted
+him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile,
+but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket.
+
+'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a
+musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he
+showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.'
+
+'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as
+hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back
+directly.'
+
+'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly
+from the sofa. Both the young men went out.
+
+'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.'
+
+'Is he going to stay with us?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That unkempt creature?'
+
+'Why, yes.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy
+Arkady _s'est degourdi_,' he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.'
+
+At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said
+nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various
+incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the
+impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the
+necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly
+up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at
+a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather
+exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from
+Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that
+awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to
+be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to
+regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite
+unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes
+replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his
+teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far
+more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did
+not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they
+all separated at once.
+
+'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his
+dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such
+style in the country! His nails, his nails--you ought to send them to
+an exhibition!'
+
+'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell
+in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was
+very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.'
+
+'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a
+pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at
+his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved
+simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?'
+
+'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.'
+
+'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his
+time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a
+good-hearted fellow.'
+
+'My father's a man in a thousand.'
+
+'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?'
+
+Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous.
+
+'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists,
+they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance
+is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but
+the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged--an English
+washstand stands for progress!'
+
+Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady.
+Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed,
+under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands,
+those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and
+sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no
+prayer.
+
+Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were
+awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He
+lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped
+on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long
+after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace,
+on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch
+was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid
+shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of _Galignani_,
+but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish
+flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where
+his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past
+only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is
+not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small
+back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing
+jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She
+was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the
+open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular
+breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of
+the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place
+isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land
+with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four
+acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices,
+and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells;
+but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected
+in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of
+lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and
+dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little
+paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable,
+routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set
+off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for
+frogs.
+
+'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him.
+
+'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special
+faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he
+never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall
+cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as
+you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I
+shall know what's going on inside us too.'
+
+'And what do you want to know that for?'
+
+'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure
+you.'
+
+'Are you a doctor then?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as
+frogs, that's funny!'
+
+'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as
+white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up
+collar.
+
+'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?'
+
+'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov.
+
+Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see
+Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the
+terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the
+table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling.
+A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at
+the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she
+said--
+
+'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders
+to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she
+send Dunyasha?'
+
+'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch
+hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with
+lemon?'
+
+'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered
+interrogatively, 'Daddy?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son.
+
+'Well?' he said.
+
+Arkady dropped his eyes.
+
+'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began,
+'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open
+... you will not be angry ...?'
+
+'Go on.'
+
+'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't
+the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away.
+
+'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.'
+
+Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father.
+
+'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my
+views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly,
+could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing?
+Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed
+her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in
+any case, a son cannot judge his father,--least of all, I, and least of
+all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in
+anything.'
+
+Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself
+magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering
+something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of
+one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought
+out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis.
+
+'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers
+again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are
+just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a
+frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but
+you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your
+presence, especially the first day of your return.'
+
+'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of
+magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to
+her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch too got up.
+
+'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not
+told you yet ...'
+
+But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai
+Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by
+confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the
+inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son?
+Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect
+if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself
+for weakness?--it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him,
+but in the state of sensations--and vague sensations--while the flush
+did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed.
+
+There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the
+terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a
+kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya
+Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little
+later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed
+him last night, as I have kissed him just now.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and
+open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck.
+
+'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch
+behind them.
+
+Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant;
+there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to
+escape as soon as possible.
+
+'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily.
+'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to
+get a good look at him since yesterday.'
+
+'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not
+indisposed to be embracing him myself.'
+
+Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his
+perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an
+elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his
+head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a
+suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his
+shirt--not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning
+dress--stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin.
+
+'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady.
+
+'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off
+somewhere. The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he
+doesn't like ceremony.'
+
+'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading
+butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?'
+
+'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.'
+
+'And where does his father live?'
+
+'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property
+there. He was formerly an army doctor.'
+
+'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard
+that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division
+there was a surgeon Bazarov?'
+
+'I believe there was.'
+
+'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel
+Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov
+himself?' he asked, deliberately.
+
+'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell
+you what he really is?'
+
+'If you will be so good, nephew.'
+
+'He's a nihilist.'
+
+'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a
+knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained
+motionless.
+
+'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady.
+
+'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, _nihil_,
+_nothing_, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who
+accepts nothing?'
+
+'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to
+work on the butter again.
+
+'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed
+Arkady.
+
+'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down
+before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith,
+whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.'
+
+'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people
+will suffer for it.'
+
+'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people;
+we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's
+no taking a step, no breathing. _Vous avez change tout cela_. God give
+you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to
+look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?'
+
+'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly.
+
+'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall
+see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please,
+brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of
+Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young
+woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and
+eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore
+a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump
+shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before
+Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood
+rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face.
+She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the
+very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of
+having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch
+looked embarrassed.
+
+'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth.
+
+'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with
+a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went
+gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that
+suited her.
+
+For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch
+sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist
+coming towards us,' he said in an undertone.
+
+Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the
+flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud;
+clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in
+his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was
+moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good
+morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I
+must just put these captives away.'
+
+'What have you there--leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No, frogs.'
+
+'Do you eat them--or keep them?'
+
+'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the
+house.
+
+'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no
+faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.'
+
+Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged
+his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his
+epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new
+bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a
+labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an
+Aesop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested
+himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll
+walk off in a huff like a fool.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking
+tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily
+watched first his father and then his uncle.
+
+'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last.
+
+'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some
+half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.'
+
+'Aren't you a sportsman then?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired.
+
+'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.'
+
+'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.'
+
+'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly.
+
+The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with
+ironical intention; none noticed it however.
+
+'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch,
+with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret
+irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute
+nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave
+abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was
+something churlish, almost insolent.
+
+'The scientific men there are a clever lot.'
+
+'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a
+flattering opinion, I dare say?'
+
+'That is very likely.'
+
+'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared,
+drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this?
+Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no
+authorities? Don't you believe in _them_?'
+
+'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me
+the truth, I agree, that's all.'
+
+'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his
+face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had
+withdrawn to some cloudy height.
+
+'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not
+care to continue the discussion.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him,
+'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again,
+not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans.
+Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of
+creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In
+former days there were some here and there; they had--well, Schiller,
+to be sure, Goethe ... my brother--he takes a particularly favourable
+view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists
+...'
+
+'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in
+Bazarov.
+
+'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling
+asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art
+then, I suppose?'
+
+'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with
+a contemptuous laugh.
+
+'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt?
+Granted. Then you believe in science only?'
+
+'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and
+what is science--science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there
+are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.'
+
+'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in
+human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?'
+
+'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it
+his duty to interpose in the conversation.
+
+'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day,
+dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own.
+For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences.
+I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the
+amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my
+agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.'
+
+'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our
+heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we
+haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.'
+
+'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch.
+'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud.
+'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk
+with the bailiff.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat.
+
+'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live
+five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You
+turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been
+taught, but--in a snap!--they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you
+that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and
+that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be
+done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away;
+Nikolai Petrovitch went after him.
+
+'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly
+the door had closed behind the two brothers.
+
+'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You
+have hurt his feelings.'
+
+'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why,
+it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his
+career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him!
+I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, _Dytiscus
+marginatus_; do you know it? I will show you.'
+
+'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady.
+
+'The story of the beetle?'
+
+'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the
+sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.'
+
+'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?'
+
+'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.'
+
+'How does that follow?'
+
+'No; listen ...'
+
+And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the
+following chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger
+brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was
+distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident,
+somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to
+please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his
+commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he
+indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave
+himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of
+their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly
+jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same
+apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not
+at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small,
+pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and
+thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and
+was timid in society.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself
+on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion
+among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six
+French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant
+career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed.
+
+At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman
+who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R----. She had a
+well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children.
+She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led
+an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a
+frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of
+pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom
+she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while
+at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often
+paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat,
+pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again
+into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply
+flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the
+slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair
+coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one
+would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point
+was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good--they were grey, and not
+large--but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of
+audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy--an enigmatic
+glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even
+while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed
+with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a
+mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single
+rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed
+to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object,
+but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was
+in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom,
+even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there
+seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which
+none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul--God knows! It
+seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces,
+incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will;
+her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her
+whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters
+which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a
+man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an
+element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased
+to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look
+of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this
+bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like
+expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting
+her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once,
+as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that
+heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure.
+
+'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He
+once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone.
+
+'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?'
+
+'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.'
+
+'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him.
+'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless
+smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R---- loved him; but when
+she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went
+out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no
+peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of
+her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the
+entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and
+followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one
+time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her.
+He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit
+... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost
+meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At
+Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as
+though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it
+was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went
+out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to
+remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was
+possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily
+avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former
+life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered
+from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society;
+he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of
+two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much
+of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and
+grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and
+arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him--a bad sign, as
+we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years
+passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless--and
+quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in
+prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club,
+Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R----. She had died
+at Paris in a state bordering on insanity.
+
+He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of
+the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go
+home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed
+to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn
+lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that
+the solution of the enigma--was the cross.
+
+This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when
+Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife.
+Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had
+settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had
+coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance
+with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him
+with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in
+sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in
+standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two
+brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less;
+Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his
+memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her.
+But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son
+was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary
+bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets
+that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth
+is over, while old age has not yet come.
+
+This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in
+losing his past, he lost everything.
+
+'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him
+one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his
+wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you
+would be bored to death.'
+
+'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then
+I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will
+let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.'
+
+For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half
+passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his
+mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the
+country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters
+which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to
+read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in
+the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the
+election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally
+annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal
+sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger
+generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up';
+and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for
+his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very
+well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for
+the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with
+Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took
+everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath;
+for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form'
+scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and
+always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible
+honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not
+cultivate ladies' acquaintance....
+
+'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how
+unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than
+once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money--the
+property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided--he's glad to help any
+one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's
+true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ...
+
+'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid.
+What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard
+to relations with women.'
+
+'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!'
+
+'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me;
+it's a sin to despise him.'
+
+'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a
+fellow who stakes his whole life on one card--a woman's love--and when
+that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for
+nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to
+know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced
+that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads
+that wretched _Galignani_, and once a month saves a peasant from a
+flogging.'
+
+'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed
+Arkady.
+
+'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as
+I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on
+it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all
+shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these
+mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know
+what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does
+the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all
+romantic, nonsensical, aesthetic rot. We had much better go and look at
+the beetle.'
+
+And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already
+pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of
+cheap tobacco.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview
+with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and
+knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered,
+'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and
+drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed
+system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel,
+warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood.
+Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was
+gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his
+money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel
+Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once,
+seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to
+turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his
+hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, '_mais je
+puis vous de l'argent_,' and gave him money; but to-day he had none
+himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural
+management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai
+Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in
+the right way, though he would not have been able to point out
+precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not
+practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.'
+Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel
+Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a
+soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say;
+'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see
+through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel
+Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother.
+
+Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor,
+which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had
+reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his
+moustaches, he knocked at it.
+
+'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice.
+
+'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door.
+
+Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her
+baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him
+out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily.
+
+'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at
+her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town
+to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.'
+
+'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?'
+
+'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change
+here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided
+over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing
+she did not understand him.
+
+'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a
+present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.'
+
+'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is
+very nice here.'
+
+'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka.
+
+'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to
+have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest
+smile.
+
+'Certainly, it's more comfortable.'
+
+'Who has been put in your place now?'
+
+'The laundry-maids are there now.'
+
+'Ah!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but
+he did not go, and she stood before him motionless.
+
+'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at
+last. 'I love children; let me see him.'
+
+Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid
+of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her.
+
+'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did
+not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must
+have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door.
+
+'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out
+quickly.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with
+special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself
+was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of
+camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought
+by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a
+little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with
+a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a
+big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg
+hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's
+breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully
+tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had
+written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was
+particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a
+cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping
+and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while
+hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above
+a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai
+Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer;
+there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute
+failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy
+frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General
+Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian
+mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins
+which fell right on to his brows.
+
+Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next
+room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book,
+an odd volume of Masalsky's _Musketeer_, and turned over a few
+pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her
+arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the
+collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing
+heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the
+air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock
+obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in
+every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too
+in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have
+remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more
+captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her
+arms?
+
+'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he
+tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his
+forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled.
+
+'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and
+slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a
+smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it.
+
+'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.'
+
+'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some
+timidity.
+
+'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the
+chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all
+his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her
+face away.
+
+'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka.
+
+'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself;
+'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost
+mournfully, at Fenitchka.
+
+'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time.
+
+'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai
+Petrovitch.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother
+looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help
+responding to his smile.
+
+'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch,
+'I came in here to speak about some tea.'
+
+And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once
+went out of the room.
+
+'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka.
+
+'Yes; he knocked and came in.'
+
+'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?'
+
+'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.'
+
+'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his
+forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he
+said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on
+the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's
+hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock.
+
+'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her
+eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her
+eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled
+tenderly and a little foolishly.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following
+manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an
+inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness
+of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the
+woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him;
+but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed,
+of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered
+into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai
+Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not
+wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for
+wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small
+number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her
+to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented.
+Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter,
+Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new
+housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed
+herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a
+successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for
+Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and
+scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on
+Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side
+place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed
+thus.
+
+One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she
+asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark
+from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home
+people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide.
+He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much
+frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she
+followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took
+her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and
+swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at
+once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it
+ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then
+was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai
+Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed
+her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well
+again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not
+pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate,
+timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair,
+and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly
+teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch
+her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation
+with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the
+approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she
+ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood,
+so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head
+through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out
+like a little animal, and called affectionately to her--
+
+'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.'
+
+'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush.
+
+By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in
+his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What
+was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for
+order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone.
+Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's
+needless to relate the rest....
+
+'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her.
+'He knocked and came in?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.'
+
+And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to
+the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the
+mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his
+little bare legs.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls
+covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a
+variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture,
+upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a _renaissance_ bookcase of
+old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table,
+with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands
+behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face
+almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the
+very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other
+reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw
+himself on the sofa.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was
+walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of
+the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well.
+
+'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and
+spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there
+has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're
+accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But
+there's some one in here.'
+
+In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov
+stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend.
+
+'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a
+pretty girl!'
+
+'Whom are you speaking of?'
+
+'You know; only one of them was pretty.'
+
+Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who
+Fenitchka was.
+
+'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I
+like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make
+friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour.
+
+'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about,
+for mercy's sake.'
+
+'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself--I'm
+not a booby.'
+
+Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap.
+
+'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a
+harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.'
+
+Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without
+speaking.
+
+'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises
+have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed?
+Is he cutting his teeth?'
+
+'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums
+are swollen again.'
+
+'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.'
+
+Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment
+both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was
+not frightened.
+
+'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will
+have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you
+quite well yourself?'
+
+'Quite, thank God.'
+
+'Thank God, indeed--that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning
+to Dunyasha.
+
+Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside
+the gates, only giggled in answer.
+
+'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.'
+
+Fenitchka received the baby in her arms.
+
+'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone.
+
+'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way
+with them.'
+
+'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha.
+
+'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to
+some people for anything.'
+
+'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance
+for some time, had gone up to the arbour.
+
+He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back
+and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion.
+
+'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady
+indulgently, and the two friends walked away.
+
+'What's her name?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady.
+
+'And her father's name? One must know that too.'
+
+'Nikolaevna.'
+
+'_Bene_. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some
+people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What
+is there to embarrass her? She's a mother--she's all right.'
+
+'She's all right,' observed Arkady,--'but my father.'
+
+'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'Well, no, I don't think so.'
+
+'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?'
+
+'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted
+Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of
+view; I think he ought to marry her.'
+
+'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows
+we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect
+that of you.'
+
+The friends walked a few paces in silence.
+
+'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began
+again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the
+buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers;
+while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite
+found out which yet.'
+
+'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.'
+
+'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead
+certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will
+cheat God Himself."'
+
+'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have
+a poor opinion of Russians.'
+
+'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his
+having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that
+two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.'
+
+'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the
+bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of
+the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky.
+
+'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a
+temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.'
+
+At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to
+them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's _Expectation_ with
+much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with
+honey sweetness through the air.
+
+'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement.
+
+'It's my father.'
+
+'Your father plays the violoncello?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And how old is your father?'
+
+'Forty-four.'
+
+Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter.
+
+'What are you laughing at?'
+
+'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a _paterfamilias_ in this
+out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!'
+
+Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time
+Arkady did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed
+course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked.
+Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners,
+and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far
+at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had
+convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual,
+he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand
+Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of
+his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar;
+he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a
+contempt for him--him, Pavel Kirsanov!
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was
+doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was
+glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and
+chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and
+busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to
+him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was
+one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle
+with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when
+she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last
+degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose
+whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out
+a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat--even he
+smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the
+boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old
+man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the
+dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an
+upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a
+pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an
+aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+The best days of the year had come--the first days of June. The weather
+kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was
+threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get
+used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for
+two or three miles, not for a walk--he couldn't bear walking without an
+object--but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he
+took Arkady with him.
+
+On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually
+vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion.
+
+One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet
+them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the
+quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the
+other side of the arbour, and could not see him.
+
+'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady.
+
+'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times;
+his day is done.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer.
+
+The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole
+slowly home.
+
+'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was
+continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly
+use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And
+what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something
+sensible to read.'
+
+'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Oh, I think Buchner's _Stoff und Kraft_ to begin with.'
+
+'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, '_Stoff und Kraft_ is
+written in popular language....'
+
+'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his
+brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our
+day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I
+confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to
+such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left
+behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.'
+
+'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us
+already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and
+mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head.
+I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm
+convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in
+medicine.'
+
+'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his
+subject.'
+
+'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in
+again.
+
+'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no
+doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into
+account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I
+have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I
+am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I
+study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the
+day--and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it
+is.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I
+remember, it happened to be _The Gipsies_ ... all of a sudden Arkady
+came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on
+his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me,
+and laid another before me--a German book ... smiled, and went away,
+carrying Pushkin off with him.'
+
+'Upon my word! What book did he give you?'
+
+'This one here.'
+
+And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Buchner, in the
+ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady
+Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try
+reading it?'
+
+'Yes, I tried it.'
+
+'Well, what did you think of it?'
+
+'Either I'm stupid, or it's all--nonsense. I must be stupid, I
+suppose.'
+
+'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Oh, I understand the German.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced
+from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent.
+
+'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change
+the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.'
+
+'Matvy Ilyitch?'
+
+'Yes. He has come to----to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig
+now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us
+again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.'
+
+'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'No; are you?'
+
+'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself
+over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. _Mathieu_ wants to show himself
+in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him
+homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed,
+a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on
+in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now.
+Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.'
+
+'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's
+arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh.
+
+'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother.
+'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of
+that.'
+
+A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came
+into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and
+determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy;
+but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule,
+Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was
+how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour,
+and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was
+all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last.
+
+The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten
+aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in
+Petersburg.
+
+'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were
+trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and
+"aristocrat" the same meaning?'
+
+'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip
+of tea.
+
+'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats
+as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do
+not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for
+a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that
+reason, I respect aristocrats--real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir'
+(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel
+Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony--'the
+English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and
+for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the
+performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform
+their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and
+maintains it for her.'
+
+'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what
+are you trying to prove by that?'
+
+'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he
+intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew
+very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this
+fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the
+times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions
+when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as
+much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we
+are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of
+scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense
+of personal dignity, without self-respect--and these two sentiments are
+well developed in the aristocrat--there is no secure foundation for the
+social ... _bien public_ ... the social fabric. Personal character,
+sir--that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm
+as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for
+instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my
+refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of
+self-respect, from a sense of duty--yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the
+country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the
+dignity of man in myself.'
+
+'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect
+yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does
+that do to the _bien public_? If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do
+just the same.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's
+absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with
+folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to
+tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but
+immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to
+Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so,
+Nikolai?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head.
+
+'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying
+meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless
+words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.'
+
+'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we
+shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come--the
+logic of history demands ...'
+
+'But what's that logic to us? We call get on without that too.'
+
+'How do you mean?'
+
+'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your
+mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to
+us?'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror.
+
+'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I
+don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles,
+rules! By virtue of what do you act then?'
+
+'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,'
+put in Arkady.
+
+'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed
+Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of
+all--and we deny----'
+
+'Everything?'
+
+'Everything!'
+
+'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...'
+
+'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady
+fairly blushed with delight.
+
+'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or,
+speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must
+construct too, you know.'
+
+'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.'
+
+'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with
+dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no
+right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.'
+
+This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of
+philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called
+philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to
+correct his young disciple.
+
+'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing
+to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that
+you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No;
+the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds
+sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...'
+
+'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready
+to agree that in that you're right.'
+
+'But if I am right ...'
+
+'And, all the same, that proves nothing.'
+
+'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a
+practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move
+on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it.
+
+'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You
+must be going against the people then?'
+
+'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when
+it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot.
+What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian;
+but am I not Russian too?'
+
+'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't
+acknowledge you as Russian.'
+
+'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty
+pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us--you or me--he'd more
+readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to
+talk to them.'
+
+'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.'
+
+'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude,
+but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a
+product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war
+on it?'
+
+'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!'
+
+'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you
+suppose you're not a useless person.'
+
+'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai
+Petrovitch, getting up.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder,
+forced him to sit down again.
+
+'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through
+that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our
+friend--our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again
+to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty?
+That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more
+than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...'
+
+'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel
+vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the
+first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.'
+
+'What do you do, then?'
+
+'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our
+officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real
+justice ...'
+
+'Oh, I see, you are reformers--that's what that's called, I fancy. I
+too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...'
+
+'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk,
+about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to
+nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men,
+so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy
+ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious
+creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what
+all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat,
+while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our
+enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men
+enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's
+busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to
+rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.'
+
+'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all
+this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.'
+
+'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He
+suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so
+expansive before this gentleman.
+
+'But to confine yourselves to abuse?'
+
+'To confine ourselves to abuse.'
+
+'And that is called nihilism?'
+
+'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with
+peculiar rudeness.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he
+observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our
+woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse
+others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one
+else?'
+
+'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered
+between his teeth.
+
+'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?'
+
+Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel
+Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself.
+
+'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without
+even knowing why?'
+
+'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed.
+
+'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing
+himself up.
+
+'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of
+maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise
+what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the
+patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in
+the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is
+civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't
+tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, _un
+barbouilleur_, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an
+evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives
+of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves
+advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's
+hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only
+four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you
+trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk
+over you!'
+
+'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an
+open question. We are not so few as you suppose.'
+
+'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole
+people?'
+
+'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered
+Bazarov.
+
+'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule--that, that's
+what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the
+inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you,
+ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady
+turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I
+have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican.
+Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an
+authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and
+unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a
+Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They
+are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?'
+
+'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing;
+and they're no better than he.'
+
+'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought
+to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they
+fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't
+want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked
+it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is
+foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be
+sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned
+nihilists.'
+
+'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked
+Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes
+were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it
+short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added,
+getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present
+mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for
+complete and unqualified destruction.'
+
+'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel
+Petrovitch--'millions! Well--the Mir, for instance.'
+
+A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he
+commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I
+should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact--its common
+guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.'
+
+'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried
+Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not
+to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head
+of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel
+Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not
+likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and
+think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...'
+
+'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel
+Petrovitch.
+
+'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the
+present, gentlemen!'
+
+The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first
+they only looked at one another.
+
+'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of
+this generation are! They are like that--our successors!'
+
+'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile.
+He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done
+nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you
+know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our
+poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to
+her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two
+different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought,
+"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow
+it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us,
+"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."'
+
+'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied
+Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are
+far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps
+express ourselves in old-fashioned language, _vieilli_, and have not
+the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men
+nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my
+custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn
+as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....'
+
+'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at
+the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the
+drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there.
+
+'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai
+Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said '_bon
+soir_' to him abruptly, and went away to his study.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his
+favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the
+first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he
+foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then,
+had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the
+newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in
+vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in
+their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought,
+'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further
+from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is
+something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is
+it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in
+there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand
+over his face.
+
+'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for
+art, for nature ...'
+
+And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible
+to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was
+hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile
+from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still
+fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow
+path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even
+to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the
+horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side
+fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a
+warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their
+leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky,
+faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind
+had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the
+lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary
+branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!'
+thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his
+lips; he remembered Arkady's _Stoff und Kraft_--and was silent, but
+still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful
+consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country
+life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had
+been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station,
+and what a change already since that day; their relations that were
+then undefined, were defined now--and how defined! Again his dead wife
+came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many
+years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a
+slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on
+her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first
+time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of
+his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to
+apologise, and could only mutter, '_Pardon, monsieur_,' while she
+bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at
+the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a
+serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the
+half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and
+yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all
+vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are
+happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one
+not live an eternal, undying life in them?'
+
+He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that
+he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory;
+he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her
+warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him....
+
+'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him;
+'where are you?'
+
+He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the
+possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was
+sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought
+back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality....
+
+The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just
+rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken--and vanished.
+
+'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the
+traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped
+into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he
+noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been
+dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had
+glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go
+home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at
+once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking
+at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky
+where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he
+was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of
+yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh,
+how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing
+within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man
+forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding
+tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the
+violoncello.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to
+go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him
+so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to
+tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh
+air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving.
+
+At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the
+matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a
+ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and
+moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too
+grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in
+his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the
+stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and
+sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of
+dreaming....
+
+'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've
+got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an
+invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let
+us be off to X----; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see
+what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll
+have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.'
+
+'And you'll come back here again?'
+
+'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five
+miles from X----. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother
+too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me,
+especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.'
+
+'And will you be long with them?'
+
+'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.'
+
+'And you'll come to us on your way back?'
+
+'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?'
+
+'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly.
+
+In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but
+he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for
+nothing!
+
+The next day he set off with Bazarov to X----. The younger part of the
+household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ...
+but the old folks breathed more easily.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The town of X---- to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction
+of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a
+despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first
+year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the
+marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open
+house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The
+feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the
+ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted
+personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The
+choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of
+the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once
+found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had
+not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming
+a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast--one, to be
+sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor,
+whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a
+progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the
+majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity
+knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened
+condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first
+acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On
+important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make
+his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then,
+'_l'energie est la premiere qualite d'un homme d'etat_;' and for all
+that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official
+could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great
+respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he
+did not belong to the class of _routiniers_ and high-and-dry
+bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed
+unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He
+even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development
+of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of
+small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality,
+Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days
+of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame
+Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were
+different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite,
+and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no
+intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no
+one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the
+principal thing.
+
+Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call
+it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He
+was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited
+had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer
+fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent
+velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a
+discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated
+attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from
+prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But,
+having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further
+attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their
+subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that
+end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great
+vogue, '_is quite a favourite_,' as the English say; a high official
+suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total
+deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?'
+
+He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.'
+
+'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with
+intense attention.
+
+'To-day's Friday, your Ex--s--s--lency.'
+
+'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?'
+
+'Friday, your Ex--s--s--s--lency, the day of the week.'
+
+'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?'
+
+Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was
+reckoned a liberal.
+
+'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to
+Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere
+to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to
+authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow;
+besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society
+here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the
+day after to-morrow.'
+
+'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady.
+
+'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly.
+'Do you dance?'
+
+'Yes; I dance, but not well.'
+
+'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a
+young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any
+old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies
+in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, _il a fait son temps_.'
+
+'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...'
+
+'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my
+wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll
+find it warm, eh?'
+
+A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of
+the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his
+mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day,
+when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from
+every little flower.' Arkady withdrew.
+
+He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long
+while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's
+no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by
+halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!'
+
+The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to
+sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss
+and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an
+excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever
+making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and
+within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as
+brothers, and calling them Kisarov.
+
+They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short
+man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was
+passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov.
+
+'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along
+on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?'
+
+'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap,
+he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My
+father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and
+so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already
+been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their
+room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name
+of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic
+characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?'
+
+'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.'
+
+'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch,
+introduce me to your ... to the ...'
+
+'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping.
+
+'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking,
+and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard
+so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may
+say--his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....'
+
+Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of
+excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of
+his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a
+fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy--a sort of short,
+wooden laugh.
+
+'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the
+first time said before me that it was not right to accept any
+authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened!
+Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is
+really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a
+real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?'
+
+'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly.
+
+'Kukshina, _Eudoxie_, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature,
+_emancipee_ in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you
+know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two
+steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not
+lunched yet?'
+
+'No; not yet.'
+
+'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her
+husband; she is not dependent on any one.'
+
+'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in.
+
+'N-no, one couldn't say that.'
+
+'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?'
+
+'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of
+champagne.'
+
+'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is
+your father still in the gin business?'
+
+'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh.
+'Well? Will you come?'
+
+'I don't really know.'
+
+'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone.
+
+'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must
+come too; we can't go without you.'
+
+'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?'
+
+'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!'
+
+'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.'
+
+'What with?'
+
+'My own head.'
+
+'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya
+Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the
+streets of X----, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known
+that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door,
+above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to
+be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly
+a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap--unmistakable tokens of
+the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired
+whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home.
+
+'Is that you, _Victor_?' sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining
+room. 'Come in.'
+
+The woman in the cap disappeared at once.
+
+'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and
+Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared
+something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket.
+
+'No matter,' answered the voice. '_Entrez_.'
+
+The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a
+working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of
+Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty
+tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a
+leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair
+hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy,
+heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head.
+She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed
+with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly,
+'Good-morning, _Victor_,' and pressed Sitnikov's hand.
+
+'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov.
+
+'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of
+round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I
+know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too.
+
+Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person
+of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a
+disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her,
+'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a
+fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air.
+She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she
+obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all
+the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just
+what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say,
+done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally.
+
+'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the
+habit--peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies--of calling men by
+their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you
+have a cigar?'
+
+'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in
+an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're
+awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of
+champagne.'
+
+'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the
+gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a
+Sybarite?'
+
+'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That
+does not prevent my being a Liberal.'
+
+'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions,
+however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne.
+
+'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm
+persuaded you share my opinion.'
+
+'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of
+bread even from the chemical point of view.'
+
+'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a
+new sort of composition myself.'
+
+'A composition? You?'
+
+'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that
+they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not
+quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read
+Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the _Moscow Gazette_? Read it
+please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the
+schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?'
+
+Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected
+negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their
+nurses.
+
+'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing
+nothing.'
+
+Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you
+know, I'm very angry with you.'
+
+'What for?'
+
+'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A
+retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with
+Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything.
+She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these
+days--what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her
+hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that
+subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of
+the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on
+the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.'
+
+'Why so? Allow me to ask.'
+
+'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes!
+why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a
+country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my
+bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder;
+something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's
+an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?'
+
+'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly.
+
+'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to
+spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur
+Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I
+don't know--it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad;
+last year I was on the point of setting off.'
+
+'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'To Paris and to Heidelberg.'
+
+'Why to Heidelberg?'
+
+'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!'
+
+To this Bazarov could find no reply.
+
+'_Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Not know _Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.'
+
+'I don't know her either.'
+
+'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent;
+I've no children.... What was that I said: _thank God!_ It's no matter
+though.'
+
+Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown
+with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began
+smoking. The maid came in with a tray.
+
+'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the
+bottle; that's in your line.'
+
+'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to
+the same convulsive laugh.
+
+'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a
+third glass.
+
+'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed
+creatures. _Mon amie_, Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a
+pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though,
+but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all
+that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a
+great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.'
+
+'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to
+despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The
+possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable
+sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never
+suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing
+before his wife merely because she had been born a princess
+Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of
+understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken
+of by serious men like us!'
+
+'But there's not the least need for them to understand our
+conversation,' observed Bazarov.
+
+'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya.
+
+'Pretty women.'
+
+'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?'
+
+Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I
+have my own.'
+
+'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of
+expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired.
+
+'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ...
+
+'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the
+silly hussies?'
+
+'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn
+to defend to the last drop of my blood.'
+
+'Damn!'--but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said.
+
+'No, I see you're a Slavophil.'
+
+'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...'
+
+'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal
+despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!'
+
+'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the
+last drop.'
+
+'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya.
+
+'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne--not of
+your blood.'
+
+'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya.
+'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read
+Michelet's book, _De l'amour_. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk
+of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled
+sofa cushion.
+
+A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said
+Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was
+what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?'
+
+'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you.
+Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she
+ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, _Evdoxie!_
+Let us clink glasses! _Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc,
+et tin-tin-tin!!!_'
+
+'Victor, you're a wretch.'
+
+The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was
+followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered
+without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the
+question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men
+were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in.
+Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk,
+tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano,
+and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then
+Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a
+scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words--
+
+  'And thy lips to mine
+   In burning kiss entwine.'
+
+Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something
+like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put
+in an ironical word in the conversation--he paid more attention to the
+champagne--gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their
+hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed
+them.
+
+'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously
+from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable
+personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own
+way, an expression of the highest morality.'
+
+'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the
+highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which
+they were passing at that instant.
+
+Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of
+his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at
+Bazarov's unexpected familiarity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch
+was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared
+to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while
+the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly
+motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy
+Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was
+gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a
+shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles '_en vrai chevalier
+francais_' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a
+hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He
+slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed
+Bazarov--who was attired in a rather old evening coat--a sidelong
+glance in passing--absent but condescending--and an indistinct but
+affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and
+'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head
+already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the
+ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her
+hair, he said '_enchante_.' There were crowds of people, and no lack of
+dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along
+the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them
+who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring
+interjections of the kind of--'_zut_,' '_Ah, fichtr-re_,' '_pst, pst,
+mon bibi_,' and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine
+Parisian _chic_, and at the same time he said '_si j'aurais_' for '_si
+j'avais_,' '_absolument_' in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed
+himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French
+ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak
+French like angels, '_comme des anges_.'
+
+Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at
+all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined
+himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his
+face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about
+him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face
+changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of
+embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!'
+
+Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at
+the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her
+bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some
+light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping
+shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging
+white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression--tranquil it was
+precisely, not pensive--and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible
+smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face.
+
+'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov.
+
+'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?'
+
+'Please ... after this quadrille.'
+
+Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov.
+
+'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.'
+
+After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to
+Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with
+her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in
+some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she
+heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of
+Nikolai Petrovitch.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,'
+she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.'
+
+At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a
+quadrille. She consented.
+
+'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully.
+
+'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too
+old?'
+
+'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for
+a mazurka.'
+
+Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she
+looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married
+sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older
+than Arkady--she was twenty-nine--but in her presence he felt himself a
+schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them
+seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a
+majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still
+watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the
+quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand
+official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly.
+Her nose--like almost all Russian noses--was a little thick; and her
+complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all
+that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could
+not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her
+dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest--more
+gracefully and amply--and her movements were distinguished by a
+peculiar smoothness and naturalness.
+
+Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the
+mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to
+enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through
+his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and
+agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon
+him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her
+freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the
+country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy,
+slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when
+partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She
+came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even
+heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled
+through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her,
+looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever
+face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from
+some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had
+already felt and thought much....
+
+'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov
+brought you to me?'
+
+'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid
+face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.'
+
+Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail,
+and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and
+looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a
+close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly
+an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time
+continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he
+ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down
+by that feeling.
+
+The music stopped. '_Merci_,' said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You
+promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be
+very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.'
+
+The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was
+ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went
+away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low,
+looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the
+greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has
+forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his
+soul.
+
+'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the
+corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to
+me about that lady; he said, "She's--oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the
+fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?--oh, fie! fie!'
+
+'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Oh, my! What innocence!'
+
+'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame
+Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and
+severely, that....'
+
+'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it
+piquancy. You like ices, I expect?'
+
+'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She
+wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see
+her.'
+
+'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me.
+Whatever she may be--whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or
+"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion--any way she's got a pair of
+shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.'
+
+Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but--as often happens--he
+reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ...
+
+'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a
+low voice.
+
+'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers
+among women are frights.'
+
+The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went
+away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously
+malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her
+vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any
+attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at
+four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with
+Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final
+event of the Governor's ball.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov
+said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the
+hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something
+wrong here.'
+
+'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov,
+clinging to the narrow morality, which ...'
+
+'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly.
+'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my
+dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you
+tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though,
+to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to
+do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of
+the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says,
+that it's well-grounded.'
+
+Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A
+young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room,
+badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with
+flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning
+dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine.
+Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he
+seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil,
+as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of
+being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!--frightened
+of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an
+easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease,
+while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him.
+
+Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev,
+notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling
+propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for
+fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself
+completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where,
+however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two
+daughters--Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their
+mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes--the H----s-- had
+died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position
+after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education
+she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with
+the cares of domestic life and economy,--for an obscure existence in
+the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and
+there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all
+contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they
+despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and
+promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna
+H----, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in
+her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use,
+scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk
+even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a
+threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a
+three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims,
+gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed,
+already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the
+wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to
+be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric
+hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not
+ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She
+consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on
+his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in
+the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad
+with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and
+came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty
+miles from the town of X----. There she had a magnificent, splendidly
+furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late
+husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna
+went very rarely to the town, generally only on business, and even then
+she did not stay long. She was not liked in the province; there had
+been a fearful outcry at her marriage with Odintsov, all sorts of
+fictions were told about her; it was asserted that she had helped her
+father in his cardsharping tricks, and even that she had gone abroad
+for excellent reasons, that it had been necessary to conceal the
+lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?' the indignant gossips
+would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,' was said of her; to
+which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And through all the other
+elements?' All this talk reached her; but she turned a deaf ear to it;
+there was much independence and a good deal of determination in her
+character.
+
+Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with
+folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good
+deal, and obviously trying to interest her--again a surprise for
+Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his
+object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what
+impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression,
+gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention,
+but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her
+unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a
+discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that
+even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no
+one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet
+with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a
+clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she
+had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have
+no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about
+medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that
+Madame Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a
+good many excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She
+turned the conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not
+appreciate art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though
+Arkady was just launching into a discourse upon the significance of
+national melodies. Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a
+younger brother; she seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful
+simplicity--and that was all. For over three hours, a lively
+conversation was kept up, ranging freely over various subjects.
+
+The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna
+looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both,
+and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful
+smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me
+at Nikolskoe.'
+
+'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness
+happiness ...'
+
+'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?'
+
+Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he
+noticed that his friend was blushing.
+
+'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same
+opinion--that she's ...'
+
+'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a
+brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal
+personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.'
+
+'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady.
+
+'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be
+hard up!'
+
+'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady.
+
+'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it
+on the dissecting-table.'
+
+'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.'
+
+'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go
+to stay with her.'
+
+'When?'
+
+'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink
+champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal
+dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too--my
+father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the
+S---- road, isn't it?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a
+splendid body!'
+
+Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to
+Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek
+posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited
+tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled.
+
+'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June,
+my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day
+they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can
+go on expecting.... What does it matter!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed
+hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof,
+white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing
+the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the
+foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially
+conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village
+stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above
+the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the
+church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too
+was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a
+pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both
+buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not
+endure--as he expressed it--idle and arbitrary innovations. The house
+was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an
+avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance.
+
+Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of
+them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black
+dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase
+covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were
+already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was
+clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean,
+everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in
+the reception rooms of ministers.
+
+'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward
+announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?'
+
+'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to
+trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he
+withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked.
+
+'What _grand genre_!' remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in
+your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.'
+
+'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she
+invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.'
+
+'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village
+sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a
+sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause,
+contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh,
+doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?'
+
+Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a
+little nervousness.
+
+Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the
+drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously
+but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in
+the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with
+cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered
+the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit
+merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a
+faded light-haired man--and it seemed to look with displeasure at the
+visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady,
+and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at
+that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barege
+dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish
+expression to her pure and fresh face.
+
+'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a
+little while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to
+my sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference
+to you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond
+of music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one
+of our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all
+our circle. And now let us sit down.'
+
+Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar
+precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to
+Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had
+even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady
+began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell
+to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking
+to himself.
+
+A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room,
+tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of
+eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but
+pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket
+filled with flowers.
+
+'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion
+of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her
+sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was
+Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and
+thrusting his cold nose into their hands.
+
+'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Yes,' answered Katya.
+
+'Is auntie coming to tea?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and
+candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous
+severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the
+voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white
+palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing
+and getting out of breath.
+
+Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from
+politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest
+you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion
+about something.'
+
+Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for
+discussion?' he said.
+
+'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.'
+
+'You?'
+
+'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?'
+
+'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and
+one must be impulsive to be argumentative.'
+
+'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first
+place, I am impatient and obstinate--you should ask Katya; and
+secondly, I am very easily carried away.'
+
+Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so
+you are inclined for a discussion--by all means. I was looking through
+the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that
+that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have
+no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might
+be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of
+the mountains, for instance.'
+
+'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a
+book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.'
+
+'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages
+in a book.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little.
+
+'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting
+her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face
+nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?'
+
+'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?'
+
+'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.'
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and
+in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth
+the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each
+of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called
+moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no
+importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by.
+People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying
+each individual birch-tree.'
+
+Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely
+fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting
+his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna
+Sergyevna shook her head.
+
+'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is
+no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the
+good-natured and ill-natured?'
+
+'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy.
+The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as
+yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know
+approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come
+from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed
+with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short,
+reform society, and there will be no diseases.'
+
+Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while
+thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to
+me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes
+strayed about the room.
+
+'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is
+reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?'
+
+'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be
+absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.'
+
+'Precisely so, madam.'
+
+Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady
+Nikolaevitch?'
+
+'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered.
+
+Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids.
+
+'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have
+more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare
+her.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H----, a thin little woman with a
+pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring
+ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely
+bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair,
+upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a
+footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even
+look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost
+covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had
+bright yellow ribbons.
+
+'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her
+voice.
+
+'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing
+Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried,
+'Ss----ss!'
+
+Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him.
+
+Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a
+walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching
+and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out....
+
+'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?'
+
+The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out
+of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A
+little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table,
+an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she
+sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup
+emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her
+cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with
+sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything),
+and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan
+write?'
+
+No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they
+paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully.
+
+'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov....
+
+After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but
+it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of
+the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted
+card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish,
+greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be
+amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov,
+asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the
+old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he
+ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a
+country doctor.'
+
+'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and
+I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady
+Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.'
+
+Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly
+was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that
+Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man
+at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his
+heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano,
+and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice--
+
+'What am I to play you?'
+
+'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently.
+
+'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing
+her attitude.
+
+'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice.
+
+'Do you like Mozart?'
+
+'Yes, I like Mozart.'
+
+Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very
+well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and
+immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly
+compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair
+came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow.
+
+Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part
+in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody,
+the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break
+in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference
+to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady
+doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.'
+
+When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from
+the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not
+venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he
+asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had
+recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she
+withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to
+her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at
+such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly
+shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated
+her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last
+to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the
+head to give himself an appearance of being at home.
+
+Katya set to work again upon her flowers.
+
+Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in
+masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the
+game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not
+altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the
+conversation on botany.
+
+'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you
+to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.'
+
+'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Order is needed in everything,' she answered.
+
+'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was
+alone with his friend in the room assigned to them.
+
+'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen
+life too.'
+
+'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?'
+
+'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch!
+I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid
+is not her, but her sister.'
+
+'What, that little dark thing?'
+
+'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy
+and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and
+developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the
+other's--a stale loaf.'
+
+Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with
+rather singular thoughts in his head.
+
+Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked
+Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply
+defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not
+chanced to meet before, and she was curious.
+
+Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of
+any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went
+out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she
+had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely
+satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her
+intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts
+were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough
+to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would
+perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion.
+But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went
+on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid,
+and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours
+before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away,
+and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits
+of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then
+her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful,
+tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and
+enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the
+sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with
+sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would
+blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into
+herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one
+thing she cared for at that instant--to get away from that horrid
+draught.
+
+Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something,
+without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing;
+but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly
+endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives,
+though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she
+had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret
+repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as
+slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once,
+somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous
+expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a
+powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going
+back to Russia.
+
+'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious
+bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had
+inherited from her father a little of his inclination for splendour.
+She had fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had
+idolised her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she
+were an equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her
+mother she scarcely remembered.
+
+'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched,
+smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two
+pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book--and fell asleep, all
+pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen.
+
+The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov
+directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not
+go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored
+with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day
+before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught
+sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came
+through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing
+and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw
+hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a
+light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons
+of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her,
+self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face,
+cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering
+between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while
+Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past
+him.
+
+'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each
+other already to-day!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls
+like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not
+even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way
+Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good
+order she had established in her house and in her life partly
+contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself,
+and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done
+at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the
+party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did
+what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the
+estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper.
+Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the
+evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna
+Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following
+day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat
+ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he
+pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards,
+offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so
+far, one might as well dine in the English style at once--in tail-coats
+and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna
+Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his
+mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was,
+'From your point of view, you are right--and perhaps, in that respect,
+I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without
+order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own
+way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and
+Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on
+rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men
+since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna
+Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him,
+began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily
+put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and
+could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by
+some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind
+conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to
+yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent
+him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into
+friendly, affectionate terms with her. '_She_ does not appreciate me?
+So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he
+thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous
+emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of
+consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the
+innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did
+not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always
+shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as
+befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the
+object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was
+conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame
+Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and
+she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With
+Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her
+condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her
+by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without
+noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too.
+Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at
+his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually
+came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together,
+went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya
+adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to
+acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent
+to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two
+friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them
+began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame
+Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is
+true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her
+sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry,
+and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to
+avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him.
+
+Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself.
+
+The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in
+Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him,
+and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and
+cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the
+possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love
+for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he
+expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable
+imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the
+nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his
+wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not
+been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used
+to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't--well, turn your back
+on her--there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had
+taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of
+her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his
+favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and
+to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his
+power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he
+could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking
+root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always
+jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna
+Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for
+everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he
+recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and
+walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his
+way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get
+into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try
+to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always
+succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands
+twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his
+kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness--yes, with
+tenderness--on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for
+an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself
+in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a
+devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking
+place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression
+of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point
+he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists.
+
+Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame
+Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal
+about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for
+his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she
+liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even
+when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She
+was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself.
+
+One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a
+surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon....
+She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a
+pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the
+meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of
+putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never
+'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his
+father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child,
+Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and
+astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny
+tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov,
+in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip
+of leather, and in tarred boots.
+
+'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov.
+
+'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he
+smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered
+with wrinkles.
+
+'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?'
+
+'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered
+the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.)
+'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your
+honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say--to have a look
+at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!'
+
+'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to
+the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no
+answer. 'Is my father well?'
+
+'Thank God, yes.'
+
+'And my mother?'
+
+'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.'
+
+'They are expecting me, I suppose?'
+
+The little old man held his tiny head on one side.
+
+'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it
+does really.'
+
+'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh.
+
+As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with
+both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went
+off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town.
+
+On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own
+room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening
+to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she
+could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff
+lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she
+made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before
+her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov
+was well aware of all this.
+
+'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your
+promise?'
+
+Bazarov started. 'What promise?'
+
+'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.'
+
+'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer.
+However, you can read Pelouse et Fremy, _Notions generales de Chimie_;
+it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you
+need in it.'
+
+'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of
+... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you
+remember?'
+
+'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov.
+
+'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice.
+
+He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her
+easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom.
+She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a
+perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its
+soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen.
+
+'And why stay?' answered Bazarov.
+
+Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not
+enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed
+here?'
+
+'I am sure of it.'
+
+Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that.
+But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov
+still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?'
+
+'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being
+missed, and I less than most.'
+
+'Why so?'
+
+'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.'
+
+'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'
+
+'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing
+in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?'
+
+Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief.
+
+'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.'
+
+'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her
+shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated.
+
+'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.'
+
+'What makes you suppose that?'
+
+'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular
+routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such
+unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness
+or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.'
+
+'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I
+have ordered my life with such regularity?'
+
+'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike
+ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.'
+
+'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may
+stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.'
+
+Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud
+crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands
+were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its
+almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance
+of the pure open air.
+
+'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a
+talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you
+never talk about yourself.'
+
+'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.'
+
+'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you,
+about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.'
+
+'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov.
+
+'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud,
+'especially for you; we are obscure people....'
+
+'And you regard me as an aristocrat?'
+
+Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov.
+
+'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness.
+
+She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that
+all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will
+tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.'
+
+'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right;
+perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid
+society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to
+stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty,
+live in the country?'
+
+'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With
+my ... beauty?'
+
+Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I
+don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?'
+
+'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some
+way?'
+
+'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because
+you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease,
+and very indifferent to everything else.'
+
+Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe
+that I am capable of being carried away by anything?'
+
+Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows.
+
+'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.'
+
+'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just
+like me, you see.'
+
+'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice.
+
+'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.'
+
+Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark,
+luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and
+there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard
+its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single
+limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion.
+
+It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he
+was alone with a young and lovely woman....
+
+'Where are you going?' she said slowly.
+
+He answered nothing, and sank into a chair.
+
+'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went
+on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I
+know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.'
+
+'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle
+gossip?'
+
+Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a
+meaning to her words.
+
+'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too
+proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no
+desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think
+that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a
+velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call
+comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain
+that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your
+eyes.'
+
+Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich;
+what more would you have? What do you want?'
+
+'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very
+tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am
+old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare
+arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me
+I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then
+poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in
+due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me,
+before me--a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.'
+
+'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each
+syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in
+something....'
+
+'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't
+love; that's where your unhappiness lies.'
+
+Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace.
+
+'Is it true I can't love?' she said.
+
+'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On
+the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls
+him.'
+
+'Mischance, what?'
+
+'Falling in love.'
+
+'And how do you come to know that?'
+
+'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily.
+
+'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want
+of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it
+were being torn to pieces.
+
+'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole
+frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair.
+
+'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take
+mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else
+better have nothing.'
+
+'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so
+far you ... have not found what you wanted.'
+
+'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to
+anything whatever?'
+
+'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to
+yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without
+reflection is very easy.'
+
+'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need
+my devotion?'
+
+'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is
+my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.'
+
+Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,'
+she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.'
+
+'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not
+in my line.'
+
+'But you could devote yourself?'
+
+'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.'
+
+Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the
+piano floated up to them from the drawing-room.
+
+'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov.
+
+Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to
+bed.'
+
+'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to
+you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov;
+it seemed as though she were examining him attentively.
+
+He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said
+'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was
+gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and
+suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with
+rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov
+back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray.
+Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again,
+and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark
+coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna
+Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from
+time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of
+the night.
+
+Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet
+with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the
+writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the
+throat.
+
+'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance.
+
+'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked
+Arkady, not answering him.
+
+'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with
+Katya Sergyevna.'
+
+'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears
+were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his
+sarcastic friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea,
+Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced
+up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and
+he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She
+quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It
+rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a
+walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up
+the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess,
+as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though
+he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he
+paid no attention to her.
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want
+to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...'
+
+She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an
+expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and
+again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances
+with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.
+
+Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed
+her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the
+delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame
+Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the
+previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before.
+
+'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence.
+
+'Pelouse et Fremy, _Notions generales_,' answered Bazarov. 'I might
+though recommend you also Ganot, _Traite elementaire de physique
+experimentale_. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in
+general it's a text-book.'
+
+Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg
+your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I
+wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so
+suddenly.... It will not bore you ...'
+
+'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about
+last night?'
+
+Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov.
+
+'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By
+the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even
+when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a
+conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of
+some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual
+happiness--such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is
+it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?'
+
+'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied
+Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I
+certainly never have such ideas come into my head.'
+
+'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?'
+
+'No; but they don't come into my head.'
+
+'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think
+about?'
+
+'What? I don't understand.'
+
+'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to
+tell you--you are conscious of it yourself--that you are not an
+ordinary man; you are still young--all life is before you. What are you
+preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to
+say--what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to?
+What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?'
+
+'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying
+natural science, and who I ...'
+
+'Well, who are you?'
+
+'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district
+doctor.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience.
+
+'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might
+answer me in that way, but not you.'
+
+'Why, in what is Arkady ...'
+
+'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble
+career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't
+believe in medicine? You--with your ambition--a district doctor! You
+answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in
+me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you;
+I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps
+through the same trials as you.'
+
+'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ...
+I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a
+rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...'
+
+'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat?
+No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to
+you ...'
+
+'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to
+talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not
+depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something--so much the
+better; and if it doesn't turn up--at least one will be glad one didn't
+gossip idly about it beforehand.'
+
+'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you
+consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise
+us all.'
+
+'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.'
+
+'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your
+disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking
+place within you now ...'
+
+'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of
+government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and
+besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in
+him?'
+
+'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in
+your heart.'
+
+'Can _you_?' asked Bazarov.
+
+'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation.
+
+Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went
+on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for
+nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this--what should I
+say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.'
+
+'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the
+reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within
+me?'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at
+the time understand.
+
+'And you will not be angry?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then
+that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it
+out of me.'
+
+Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning
+with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard;
+his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of
+youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that
+possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and
+painful--passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame
+Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him.
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious
+tenderness in her voice.
+
+He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both
+her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast.
+
+She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant
+later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at
+Bazarov. He rushed at her ...
+
+'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It
+seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov
+bit his lips, and went out.
+
+Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it
+consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till
+to-morrow?'
+
+'Why should you go? I did not understand you--you did not understand
+me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did
+not understand myself either.'
+
+She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro
+in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the
+looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on
+which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what
+had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether
+she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but
+I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed
+crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at
+her....
+
+'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back
+her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown
+back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and
+lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself
+was confused....
+
+'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to;
+he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the
+world.'
+
+Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a
+few tears once though she could not have said why--certainly not for
+the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined
+to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the
+sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself
+to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and
+had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or
+revolting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to
+every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the
+dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however.
+Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he
+had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them
+that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to
+wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed
+on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and
+diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a
+grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not
+stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding,
+with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every
+feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went
+with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted
+to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went
+up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely--
+
+'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with
+me.'
+
+'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame
+Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.'
+
+'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position,
+you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go
+away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be
+gone.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...'
+
+'Why am I going away?'
+
+'No; I didn't mean to say that.'
+
+'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound
+to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only
+conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition
+will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you
+never will love me, I suppose?'
+
+Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows.
+
+Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed
+through her brain.
+
+'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and
+he went back into the house.
+
+Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she
+took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did
+not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all
+accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and
+looked on at her as all young people look on--that's to say, he was
+constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut
+himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna
+longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to
+address him....
+
+An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward
+announced the arrival of Sitnikov.
+
+It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the
+young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with
+his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the
+country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited
+him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such
+talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless
+trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the
+apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he
+muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to
+inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too,
+having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he
+faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down
+on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna
+Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon
+recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the
+commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained
+tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by
+recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance
+everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more
+solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual.
+
+'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to
+Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are
+you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.'
+For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had
+sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable
+sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions.
+
+'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov.
+
+Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised,
+and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that
+why you're sad?'
+
+Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.'
+
+'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady.
+
+'What about Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'I mean, will she let you go?'
+
+'I'm not her paid man.'
+
+Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face
+to the wall.
+
+Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly.
+
+'Well?'
+
+'I will leave with you to-morrow too.'
+
+Bazarov made no answer.
+
+'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as
+Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be
+delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of
+being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of
+course?'
+
+'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning
+round.
+
+'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?'
+thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he
+pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his
+own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He
+felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so
+accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something
+has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it
+be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm
+losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna
+Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely
+image of the young widow.
+
+'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which
+a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and
+said aloud--
+
+'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?'
+
+Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the
+following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are
+indispensable to us. I--do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's
+not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'...
+
+'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the
+fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I
+gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.'
+
+Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the
+next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed.
+Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as
+to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it.
+Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only
+just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this
+occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the
+man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with
+him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a
+few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse,
+and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he
+proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him.
+
+'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man,
+turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take
+your coach, so it will be even more convenient.'
+
+'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my
+place.'
+
+'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business
+in that direction.'
+
+'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously.
+
+But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh
+as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he
+muttered; 'and there will be room for all.'
+
+'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna.
+
+Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly.
+
+The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov,
+Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet
+again, shan't we?'
+
+'As you command,' answered Bazarov.
+
+'In that case, we shall.'
+
+Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's
+carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have
+killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears.
+
+Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady
+waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the
+horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to
+Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.'
+
+'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth.
+
+Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his
+carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these
+words; while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage,
+took his seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former
+fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was
+soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his
+coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the
+off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two
+passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town,
+where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's,
+he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.'
+
+When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand
+warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though
+Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence.
+He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had
+eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner,
+stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to
+his eyebrows.
+
+'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I
+say, is my tongue yellow?'
+
+'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.'
+
+'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady.
+
+'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother--my
+mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and
+eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's
+known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added,
+and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road.
+
+'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the
+box, a labourer of Fedot's.
+
+But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know--miles hereabout aren't
+measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for
+'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down.
+
+'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an
+instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a
+thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must
+go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his
+life.'
+
+'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady.
+
+'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both
+behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've
+noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his
+illness--he's sure to get over it.'
+
+'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought
+you had nothing to complain of.'
+
+'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this--to my
+mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman
+have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all
+...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word,
+'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't
+believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine
+society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that
+is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man
+hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says
+an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he
+added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box--'you've a wife?'
+
+The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face.
+
+'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.'
+
+'Do you beat her?'
+
+'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good
+reason!'
+
+'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?'
+
+The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say,
+sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended.
+
+'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's
+what comes of being educated people.'
+
+Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open
+his mouth again the whole journey.
+
+The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the
+slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's
+parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small
+house with a thatched roof.
+
+Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each
+other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking
+pig.'
+
+'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other.
+
+'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and
+the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's
+peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming
+out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he;
+it's he--I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor
+chap!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out
+behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the
+little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a
+thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was
+standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his
+eyes to keep the sun out of them.
+
+The horses stopped.
+
+'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though
+the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get
+out; get out; let me hug you.'
+
+He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a
+trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway
+was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short
+striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen,
+had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly
+twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there
+was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.
+
+Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever.
+
+'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said,
+exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach,
+while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at
+all necessary, please give over.'
+
+'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear
+one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew
+her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little
+away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking
+eyes, and again fell on his neck.
+
+'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented
+Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come
+with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and
+scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well,
+a mother's heart ...'
+
+His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering
+... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost
+indifferent.
+
+'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled
+old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he
+once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him.
+
+'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is
+done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm
+yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill
+of you.'
+
+'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your
+father's I haven't the honour of knowing....'
+
+'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice.
+
+'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her
+nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one
+eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should
+die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.'
+
+'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of
+thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at
+the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water--on a tray, do you
+hear?--and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned
+playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.'
+
+'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna.
+Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!'
+
+'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch,
+'but he's a man, as the saying is, _ommfay_. And now I hope, Arina
+Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn
+your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because,
+as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.'
+
+The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the
+samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I
+have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is
+that nothing?'
+
+'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while
+you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay
+his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old
+dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.'
+
+And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping
+with his slippers trodden down at heel.
+
+His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them--the one to
+which he led our friends--was called the study. A thick-legged table,
+littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust
+as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two
+windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps,
+some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in
+hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa,
+torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge
+cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds,
+jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner
+stood a broken galvanic battery.
+
+'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch,
+'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....'
+
+'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted.
+'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no
+butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?'
+
+'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge;
+he will be very comfortable there.'
+
+'Have you had a lodge put up then?'
+
+'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch.
+
+'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's
+summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements;
+and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I
+shall of course offer my study. _Suum cuique_.'
+
+'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,'
+remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a
+queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.'
+
+'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give
+us.'
+
+'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?'
+observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box.
+
+'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the
+moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.'
+
+'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly.
+
+'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I
+remember.'
+
+'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure.
+
+The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared.
+'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried
+triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is
+your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come
+in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair
+of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I
+repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great
+things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?'
+
+'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady.
+
+'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but
+in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.'
+
+'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd
+much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in
+face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider,
+and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his
+coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and
+gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a
+kind of nonchalant immobility.
+
+'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine,
+Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by
+making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain
+that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far
+as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk
+handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's
+room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now
+alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not
+inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and
+given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty;
+common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors
+do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.'
+
+'Yes; I see you have here _The Friend of Health_ for 1855,' remarked
+Bazarov.
+
+'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch
+made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of
+phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to
+Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided
+into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and
+Rademacher.'
+
+'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked
+Bazarov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course,
+gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here
+to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a
+Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism--they
+seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great
+men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of
+Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years
+it will be his turn to be laughed at.'
+
+'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that
+nowadays we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any
+one.'
+
+'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?'
+
+'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little
+smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps--I am not going
+to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, _volla-too_; now fate has
+made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he
+addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights
+in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into
+contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you
+now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They
+were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here
+Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but
+my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything
+else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real
+soldier.'
+
+'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily.
+
+'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of
+course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...'
+
+'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving
+along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little
+garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and
+raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young
+gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: _in herbis
+verbis et lapidibus_.... I've retired from practice, you know, of
+course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought
+back to my old work. They come for advice--I can't drive them away.
+Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are
+no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired
+major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question,
+"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he
+does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What
+do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely.
+
+'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily
+Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had
+gone _ad patres_; the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no
+longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and
+asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he
+hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back
+again. Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his
+face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way
+for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out
+to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and
+clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must
+be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife
+will give you more satisfaction.'
+
+The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even
+abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost
+black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known
+merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were
+a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them
+away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch
+had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger
+generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a
+high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke
+down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband
+had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears
+herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate
+anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago.
+Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the
+first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and
+one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper,
+poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down
+during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively
+beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at
+Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina
+Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat;
+leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the
+little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple
+good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take
+her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to
+know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him.
+
+'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After
+the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned
+with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we
+do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive
+occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass,
+proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off
+his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her
+wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for
+preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his
+duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly
+made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once
+smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and
+cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to
+admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he
+whispered to Arkady--
+
+'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a
+recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some
+of the trees beloved of Horace.'
+
+'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing.
+
+'Oh ... acacias.'
+
+Bazarov began to yawn.
+
+'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,'
+observed Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea.
+It is time, certainly.'
+
+As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead,
+while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her
+blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room,
+and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.'
+And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was
+a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each
+other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's
+room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was
+looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him
+away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With
+wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories
+of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had
+time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina
+Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long,
+long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her
+mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a
+mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and
+wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a
+wave of his hand gave it up in despair.
+
+Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times;
+she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days.
+She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling,
+charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the
+prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in
+unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate
+specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of
+the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights
+did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of
+buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked
+on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where
+there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his
+breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of
+leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats,
+of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and
+dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese,
+asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut
+water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she
+could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating--and fasted
+rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four--and never went to
+bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had
+never read a single book except _Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest_;
+she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in
+housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she
+never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her
+place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all
+stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it
+is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them--and so
+she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but
+she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a
+single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one,
+though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had
+played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of
+many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against
+her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son
+she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of
+the property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere in
+anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her
+eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began
+to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was
+apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began
+to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are
+not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met
+his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt
+round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging
+in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his
+spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?'
+
+'Capitally,' answered Arkady.
+
+'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for
+late turnips. The time has come now--and thank God for it!--when every
+one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to
+reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean
+Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman,
+you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant
+woman, who complained of looseness--that's how they express it, but in
+our language, dysentery--I ... how can I express it best? I
+administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an
+anaesthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do
+_gratis_--_anamatyer_ (_en amateur_). I'm used to it, though; you see,
+I'm a plebeian, _homo novus_--not one of the old stock, not like my
+spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to
+breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?'
+
+Arkady went out to him.
+
+'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a
+military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I
+know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones
+of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage
+roof.'
+
+'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great
+ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.'
+
+'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite
+simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the
+world too--I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a
+psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I
+will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to
+grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I
+tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I
+observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he
+usually does--no doubt you are aware of it--very early, and went a
+ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire--have you known my
+son long?'
+
+'Since last winter.'
+
+'Indeed. And permit me to question you further--but hadn't we better
+sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your
+opinion of my Yevgeny?'
+
+'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady
+answered emphatically.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were
+suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand.
+
+'And so you expect,' he began ...
+
+'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future
+before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of
+that ever since I first met him.'
+
+'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort.
+His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave
+it.
+
+'Would you like me to tell you how we met?'
+
+'Yes ... and altogether....'
+
+Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater
+warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he
+danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his
+handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat,
+ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down
+to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly
+happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ...
+idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of--we all know what mothers
+are!--but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't
+like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many
+people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and
+regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him
+ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here,
+for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a
+constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never
+from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help,
+that's God's truth!'
+
+'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady
+Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that
+some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son
+of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his
+greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old
+man's voice broke.
+
+Arkady pressed his hand.
+
+'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short
+silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the
+celebrity you anticipate for him?'
+
+'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be
+one of the leading scientific men.'
+
+'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?'
+
+'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.'
+
+'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie.
+
+'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka,
+coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the
+raspberries?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some
+more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?'
+
+'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a
+visit to your friend; but you were too late, _amice_, and we have
+already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea,
+mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.'
+
+'What about?'
+
+'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus....
+
+'You mean jaundice?'
+
+'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed
+him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him
+soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more
+decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you
+can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come
+in to tea.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed
+from _Robert le Diable_--
+
+  'The rule, the rule we set ourselves,
+   To live, to live for pleasure!'
+
+'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window.
+
+It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken
+whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks
+crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one
+who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere,
+high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk.
+Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under
+themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and
+fragrant grass.
+
+'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows
+at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those
+days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a
+peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not
+understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now
+I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.'
+
+'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady.
+
+'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life,
+wandering from town to town for the most part.'
+
+'And has this house been standing long?'
+
+'Yes. My grandfather built it--my mother's father.'
+
+'Who was he--your grandfather?'
+
+'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always
+telling stories about the crossing of the Alps--inventions probably.'
+
+'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like
+these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned;
+and there's always a special sort of scent about them.'
+
+'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the
+flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!'
+
+'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with
+you when you were a child?'
+
+'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.'
+
+'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?'
+
+'I am, Arkady.'
+
+'How fond they are of you!'
+
+Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?'
+he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head.
+
+'No. What is it?'
+
+'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty
+is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring
+people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants--having a
+festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful
+of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to
+think of herself; while I ...'
+
+'While you?'
+
+'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so
+infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am
+not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in
+which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I
+have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical
+point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting
+something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?'
+
+'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.'
+
+'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now--my
+parents, I mean--are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their
+own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing
+but weariness and anger.'
+
+'Anger? why anger?'
+
+'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?'
+
+'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right
+to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...'
+
+'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all
+modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the
+hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough
+of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned
+over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a
+half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her
+resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the
+sentiment of pity--make the most of it--not like us conscientious
+self-destructive animals!'
+
+'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?'
+
+Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I
+haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over!
+You shall not hear another word from me about it.'
+
+Both the friends lay for some time in silence.
+
+'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side
+view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here,
+one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are
+acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not,
+you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only
+to abuse them.'
+
+'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of
+significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively.
+
+'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one
+could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness,
+pettiness, that's what's insufferable.'
+
+'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise
+it.'
+
+'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.'
+
+'What? What do you mean by that term?'
+
+'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial,
+that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a
+common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to
+say, but in reality it's one and the same.'
+
+'And the truth is--where, which side?'
+
+'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?'
+
+'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.'
+
+'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't
+stand so many raspberries either.'
+
+'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady.
+
+'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's
+asleep.'
+
+'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?'
+
+'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real
+man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey
+or hate.'
+
+'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's
+thought.
+
+'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how
+could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself
+much.'
+
+'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have
+you a high opinion of yourself?'
+
+Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he
+said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of
+myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our
+bailiff Philip's cottage--it's the one that's so nice and clean--well,
+you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a
+house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it
+about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this
+Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and
+who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why,
+suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing
+out of me,--well what do I gain by it?'
+
+'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to
+agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.'
+
+'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles--you've not
+made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on
+them.'
+
+'How so?'
+
+'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my
+sensations; I like to deny--my brain's made on that plan, and that's
+all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?--by
+virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men
+will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I
+shan't tell you so another time.'
+
+'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?'
+
+'I should rather think so.'
+
+'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ...
+
+'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother.
+If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your
+own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the
+silence of sleep," said Pushkin.'
+
+'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady.
+
+'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have--and ought to have said
+it. By the way, he must have been a military man.'
+
+'Pushkin never was a military man!'
+
+'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's
+honour!"'
+
+'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.'
+
+'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me
+with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he
+deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.'
+
+'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation.
+
+'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them
+slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men.
+Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another
+in silence.
+
+'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is
+falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's
+flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay--like brightness and life.'
+
+'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat
+of you; no fine talk.'
+
+'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An
+idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?'
+
+'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's
+positively indecent.'
+
+'And what is decent? Abuse?'
+
+'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's
+footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had
+heard you!'
+
+'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?'
+
+'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.'
+
+'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady.
+
+'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've
+noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up
+everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his
+brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief--that's too
+much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine--and
+no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.'
+
+'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least
+family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a
+sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't
+judge of it.'
+
+'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I
+bow down before him and say no more.'
+
+'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.'
+
+'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once
+in earnest....'
+
+'But then perhaps we should end by ...'
+
+'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic
+surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't
+matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a
+minute.'
+
+Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and
+prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck
+him as so vindictive--there was such menace in grim earnest in the
+smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt
+instinctively afraid.
+
+'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch
+was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared
+before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a
+straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere
+for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're
+excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you
+know, there's a special significance in that?'
+
+'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled
+Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he
+interrupted us.'
+
+'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's
+hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks.
+
+'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying
+meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather
+cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a
+top,--'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much
+strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents!
+Positively, a Castor and Pollux!'
+
+'Get along with you--going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You
+can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to
+remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose--didn't you?'
+
+'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.'
+
+'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man.
+'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you
+compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to
+you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare
+you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you
+know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother
+wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must
+not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving--it is
+over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...'
+
+'The village parson?'
+
+'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not
+anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came
+about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna
+... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.'
+
+'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!'
+
+'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I
+spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I,
+an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not
+dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service.
+He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much
+wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's
+no objection even to cards, and he sometimes--but this is between
+ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.'
+
+'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean
+him out.'
+
+'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.'
+
+'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush.
+
+'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to
+acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I
+have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you.
+I shan't be in your way, I hope?'
+
+'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your
+present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military
+bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a
+haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many,
+many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will
+tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.'
+
+'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we
+know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?'
+
+'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily
+Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked
+off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague.
+'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing
+to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on
+aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.'
+
+Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed
+hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared
+to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the
+first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding
+beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself
+in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own
+dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at
+the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small
+glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but
+did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The
+only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly
+raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his
+face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the
+green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms,
+and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper
+money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of
+Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did
+not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she
+only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to
+caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her
+caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to
+'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,'
+he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that
+day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the
+bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and
+crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the
+peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly
+on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was
+to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be
+seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness.
+
+Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression
+of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some
+short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently
+laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm.
+
+'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?'
+
+'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh.
+
+'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were
+compassionately, and he stroked his beard.
+
+'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily
+Ivanovitch, leading an ace.
+
+'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he
+trumped the ace.
+
+'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina
+Vlasyevna.
+
+Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders.
+
+'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm
+bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place
+again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at
+any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study
+is at your disposal--nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time
+he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself
+away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing
+the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to
+say to her.'
+
+'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.'
+
+'I shall come back again to them.'
+
+'When?'
+
+'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.'
+
+'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.'
+
+'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?'
+
+Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny.
+She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This
+morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly,
+interestingly.'
+
+'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?'
+
+'We didn't talk only about you.'
+
+'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's
+conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.'
+
+'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always
+making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.'
+
+'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day;
+he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite
+right too--yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror--he did
+quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father
+had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was
+greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever....
+Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!'
+
+Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could
+make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At
+last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he
+observed, with a feigned yawn--
+
+'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our
+horses to-morrow.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?'
+
+'Yes; and I'm going with him.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?'
+
+'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.'
+
+'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ...
+only ... only.... How is it?'
+
+'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again
+later.'
+
+'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his
+handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground.
+'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with
+us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather
+little; rather little, Yevgeny!'
+
+'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to
+go.'
+
+'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in
+readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this.
+She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to
+decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention
+that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch,
+standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with
+trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged
+him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to
+eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men
+liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I
+don't want to hamper you ... not ...'
+
+He suddenly ceased, and made for the door.
+
+'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.'
+
+But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand
+and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed,
+and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up.
+She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked.
+
+'Yes, mother.'
+
+'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being
+comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your
+travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our
+feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....'
+
+'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have
+mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice.
+Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell
+her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her.
+
+Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was
+dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands;
+even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots.
+Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to
+put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but
+his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his
+son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and
+could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent
+two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after
+repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's
+time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took
+his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was
+ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer
+any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch,
+all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room;
+when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed
+suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch,
+after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the
+steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He
+has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was
+dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina
+Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey
+head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece
+cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his
+pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we
+sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you
+unchanged for ever, as you for me.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife,
+his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted
+him in his grief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our
+friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased
+with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that
+causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The
+coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired,
+'To the right or to the left?'
+
+Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there
+home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's.
+
+He looked at Bazarov.
+
+'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?'
+
+Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered.
+
+'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter?
+It's not the first time.'
+
+Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at
+last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady.
+
+The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having
+resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent
+than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured.
+
+Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house,
+the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving
+way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected.
+They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the
+drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them
+with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return;
+and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures
+and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce
+that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the
+town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation,
+begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The
+princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even
+more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her
+room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see
+Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in
+insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both
+listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that
+her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive.
+
+'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay
+attention to that, and come again--I say this to both of you--before
+long.'
+
+Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats
+in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home
+to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following
+day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other
+even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular,
+scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away
+from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity.
+
+At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The
+prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch
+uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa,
+dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and
+informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel
+Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and
+smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers.
+Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper,
+which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up
+some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and
+partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he
+kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the
+servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down
+like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr
+was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a
+Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and
+plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small
+preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts;
+nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the
+world.
+
+But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and
+poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on
+the farm sprang up every day--senseless, distressing difficulties. The
+troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked
+for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while
+others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses
+fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work
+was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from
+Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was
+ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt
+down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with
+a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true,
+maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan
+of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer
+suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat
+when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch
+in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a
+half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was
+generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did
+not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber;
+almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows
+of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch
+would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after
+the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their
+returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling
+among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their
+wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the
+squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the
+whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the
+master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and
+judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the
+women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the
+contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while
+that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were
+not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the
+most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for
+a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most
+shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the
+corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with
+the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded
+prompt payment, in full, of interest due....
+
+'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair.
+'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my
+principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them
+without the fear of punishment!'
+
+'_Du calme_, _du calme_,' Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but
+even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his
+moustache.
+
+Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not
+for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival
+at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his
+chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the
+contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to
+make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing,
+and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted
+upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any
+aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the
+land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady,
+to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former
+days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told
+him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov--and
+that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get
+away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use.
+In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai
+Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by
+Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he
+got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in
+twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these
+half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though
+he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go.
+'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering--she had
+added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled
+the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and
+timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the
+secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without
+the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten
+days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying
+the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again,
+and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission,
+he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both
+frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The
+great thing is--one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His
+driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public
+house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when
+he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the
+familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through
+Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses
+galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now
+the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue
+of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of
+a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under
+the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she
+recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses,
+leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried,
+gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the
+garden; she will be pleased to see you.'
+
+Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a
+particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she
+were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no
+steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight
+of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing
+footsteps, she turned slowly round.
+
+Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him
+at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing
+voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and
+wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?'
+
+'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you
+certainly don't expect.'
+
+'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to
+understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object
+of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was
+overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel
+Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively
+aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more
+in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel
+Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the _nihilist_ on the subject
+of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the
+Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking
+with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I,
+at least, have not the honour of understanding you.'
+
+'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding
+anything--how the aether vibrates, and what's going on in the sun--but
+how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's
+incapable of understanding.'
+
+'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and
+he walked away.
+
+However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's
+experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the
+very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria
+swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort
+of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited
+Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as
+he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken
+off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific
+researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and
+look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet
+question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the
+conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other
+topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if
+not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai
+Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less.
+An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The
+cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the
+neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself.
+In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms.
+He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's
+skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question,
+'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but
+scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said
+yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov
+went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in
+Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his
+heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka.
+
+He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the
+garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her,
+and she had only once been to his door to inquire--ought she to let
+Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him,
+that she was not afraid of him--she was positively freer and more at
+her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch
+himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because
+she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all
+that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he
+was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her
+baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly
+attacked with giddiness and headache--she took a spoonful of medicine
+from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a
+distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but
+from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more
+afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would
+suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth
+behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face,
+and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on
+one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in
+response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the
+least suspicion of the fact, had become the _cruel tyrant_ of her
+heart.
+
+Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively
+transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind
+expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of
+jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There
+is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand
+and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka.
+Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and
+whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she
+could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and
+ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected
+in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work;
+her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at
+all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic
+helplessness.
+
+'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had
+made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which
+had not yet quite disappeared.
+
+'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's
+utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no
+shade in the garden.'
+
+'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing
+his forehead.
+
+One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk,
+came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering,
+but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and
+had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a
+whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good
+morning to her.
+
+'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her
+kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare
+to the elbow.
+
+'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are
+you making a nosegay?'
+
+'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.'
+
+'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!'
+
+'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out.
+One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm
+really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.'
+
+'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for
+the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs.
+'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand.
+
+'Ah, God forbid!' she cried.
+
+'Why? Don't you want a long life?'
+
+'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five
+years old--and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and
+coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a
+dreadful life!'
+
+'So it's better to be young?'
+
+'Well, isn't it?'
+
+'But why is it better? Tell me!'
+
+'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do
+everything--go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for
+anything.... What can be better?'
+
+'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.'
+
+'How do you mean--it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.'
+
+'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to
+me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...'
+
+'That always depends on you.'
+
+'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity
+on me.'
+
+Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's
+this book you have?' she asked after a short pause.
+
+'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.'
+
+'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know
+everything already I should say.'
+
+'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.'
+
+'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka,
+taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!'
+
+'Yes, it's Russian.'
+
+'All the same, I shan't understand anything.'
+
+'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look
+at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little
+nose moves so nicely.'
+
+Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article
+on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ...
+it slipped from the seat on to the ground.
+
+'Nonsense!'
+
+'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov.
+
+'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.'
+
+Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she
+commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you
+care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.'
+
+'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world
+are not worth your little elbow.'
+
+'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her
+hands.
+
+Bazarov picked the book up from the ground.
+
+'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?'
+
+'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you
+know, ever since you gave me those drops--do you remember?--Mitya has
+slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good,
+really.'
+
+'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors,
+you know yourself, are grasping people.'
+
+Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish
+reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov.
+She did not know whether he was joking or not.
+
+'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai
+Petrovitch ...'
+
+'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want
+money from you.'
+
+'What then?' asked Fenitchka.
+
+'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!'
+
+'A likely person I am to guess!'
+
+'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.'
+
+Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing
+Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt
+flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her.
+
+'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she
+began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have--a red one or a
+white one?'
+
+'Red, and not too large.'
+
+She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her
+outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of
+the arbour, then listened.
+
+'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?'
+
+'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid
+of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...'
+
+'What?'
+
+'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.'
+Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose.
+
+'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?'
+
+'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember,
+you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was
+about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.'
+
+Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel
+Petrovitch about.
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you
+stand up for me?'
+
+'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of
+you.'
+
+'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it
+liked.'
+
+'What hand?'
+
+'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you
+gave me.'
+
+Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to
+the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders;
+her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible.
+
+'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent
+down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips.
+
+She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but
+pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss.
+
+A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly
+moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed
+himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious
+mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered
+up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you,
+Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of
+genuine reproach in her whisper.
+
+Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and
+contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically
+congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay
+Lothario,' and went off to his own room.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with
+deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and
+when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously
+whether he were quite well--his face looked so gloomy.
+
+'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered
+tranquilly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door.
+
+'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he
+began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both
+hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked
+without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five
+minutes of your time ... no more.'
+
+'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face
+there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch
+crossed the threshold.
+
+'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single
+question to you.'
+
+'A question? What is it about?'
+
+'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement
+of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure
+of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many
+subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my
+presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general
+broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?'
+
+Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge
+of the table and folded his arms.
+
+'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling
+is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now--it's quite a different
+matter.'
+
+'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever
+your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow
+yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?'
+
+'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.'
+
+'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me
+from a state of incertitude.'
+
+'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.'
+
+'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ...
+am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable
+necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.'
+
+Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?'
+
+'Undoubtedly.'
+
+'But what for, pray?'
+
+'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I
+prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is
+superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not
+enough for you ...'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing.
+
+'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a
+whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this
+pleasure, but--so be it!'
+
+'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and
+may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to
+resort to violent measures.'
+
+'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov
+remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for
+you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding.
+You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a
+gentleman.'
+
+'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in
+the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of
+our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it
+necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might
+serve as a pretext for my challenge?'
+
+'No; it's better without formalities.'
+
+'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the
+real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more
+is necessary?'
+
+'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically.
+
+'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall
+have no seconds--for where could we get them?'
+
+'Exactly so; where could we get them?'
+
+'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you:
+The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind
+the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....'
+
+'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.'
+
+'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'We might.'
+
+'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter
+in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.'
+
+'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a
+slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very
+plausible.'
+
+'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur
+a suspicion of murder?'
+
+'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful
+reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.'
+
+'And whom, allow me to inquire?'
+
+'Why, Piotr.'
+
+'What Piotr?'
+
+'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of
+contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the
+_comilfo_ (_comme il faut_) necessary in such cases.'
+
+'I think you are joking, sir.'
+
+'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced
+that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle
+under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting
+manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.'
+
+'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up
+from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I
+have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is
+arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?'
+
+'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.'
+
+'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five
+years now since I shot with them.'
+
+'That's a very consoling piece of news.'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only
+remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have
+the honour to take leave of you.'
+
+'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said
+Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute
+before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how
+fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained
+dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the
+question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov
+turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at
+once)--'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He
+went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the
+composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught
+sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on
+his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it--a kiss? There
+must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her
+himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a
+complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job,
+look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet
+through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ...
+and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an
+awfully bad job.'
+
+The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka
+gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse
+in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard
+that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in
+particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one,
+even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his
+father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table.
+
+'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to
+die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He
+gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning
+directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to
+Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he
+was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in
+them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with
+black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel
+Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to
+fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went
+out with him.
+
+It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in
+little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on
+the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs;
+the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from
+the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov
+walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only
+then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him.
+The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the
+assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and
+look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And
+meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to
+play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a
+birch-tree, looking green with terror.
+
+The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it,
+untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov
+unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of
+grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!'
+The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked
+at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid.
+
+The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came
+into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses
+hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather
+strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed
+Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,'
+thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...'
+
+'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly.
+
+Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light
+check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the
+road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth.
+
+'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed,
+bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at
+that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I
+was unwilling to wake my man.'
+
+'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived
+ourselves.'
+
+'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's
+no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?'
+
+'Let us proceed.'
+
+'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols
+out of the box.
+
+'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,'
+added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as
+though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther
+off.'
+
+'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may
+get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your
+eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ...
+eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel
+Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?'
+
+'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet.
+
+'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground
+with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how
+many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important
+question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.'
+
+'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both
+pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?'
+
+'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is
+singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our
+second.'
+
+'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch.
+'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to
+warn you that I intend to fight seriously. _A bon entendeur, salut!_'
+
+'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each
+other; but why not laugh too and unite _utile dulci_? You talk to me in
+French, while I talk to you in Latin.'
+
+'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he
+walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from
+the barrier, and stood still.
+
+'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Perfectly.'
+
+'We can approach one another.'
+
+Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand
+thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle
+of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov,
+'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable
+sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.'
+
+Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant
+there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,'
+had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and
+without taking aim, pressed the spring.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A
+stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers.
+
+Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you
+wounded?' he said.
+
+'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel
+Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement,
+each of us has the right to one more shot.'
+
+'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov,
+catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale.
+'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your
+wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got
+to?'
+
+'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch
+declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at
+his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost
+consciousness.
+
+'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried
+unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a
+look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood,
+and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he
+muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle,
+_vastus externus_, grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!...
+And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what
+a delicate skin!'
+
+'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his
+back.
+
+Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good
+fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.'
+
+But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did
+not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!'
+whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself.
+
+'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded
+gentleman with a forced smile.
+
+'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov.
+
+'No need.... It was a momentary _vertigo_.... Help me to sit up ...
+there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch,
+and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The
+duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved
+honourably ... to-day, to-day--observe.'
+
+'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards
+the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about
+that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your
+leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop
+bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.'
+
+Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky.
+
+'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him;
+'don't dream of informing him.'
+
+Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two
+antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried
+not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any
+case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was
+ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt
+it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate,
+there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for
+that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing
+and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the
+other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very
+unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is
+impossible either to have things out or to separate.
+
+'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last.
+
+'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a
+brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have
+to tell him we quarrelled over politics.'
+
+'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all
+anglomaniacs.'
+
+'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us
+now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had
+driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel,
+and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of
+the 'gentlefolk.'
+
+'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing.
+The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs.
+Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't
+understand himself!'
+
+'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he
+cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother
+galloping up to us!'
+
+Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who
+was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped,
+and rushed up to his brother.
+
+'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?'
+
+'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for
+nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay
+for it a little.'
+
+'But what was it all about, mercy on us!'
+
+'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert
+Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all
+this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.'
+
+'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!'
+
+'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting
+is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get
+into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite
+well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining
+where he was....
+
+'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to
+him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.'
+
+Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel
+Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The
+whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and
+joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric
+night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the
+blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of
+being kept from food.
+
+Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The
+doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to
+his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the
+whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in
+to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to
+meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new
+doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's
+assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his
+brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded,
+'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on
+the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often
+happens, to be sure.'
+
+No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept
+going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the
+latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, _Couchez-vous_, and
+asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a
+glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank
+off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased
+a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered
+incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his
+brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you
+think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?'
+
+'What Nellie, Pavel dear?'
+
+'How can you ask? Princess R----. Especially in the upper part of the
+face. _C'est de la meme famille._'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the
+persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to
+the surface,' he thought.
+
+'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch,
+clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any
+insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes
+later.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these
+words referred.
+
+Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He
+had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects,
+and birds.
+
+'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting
+up to meet him.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of
+course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that
+he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you
+could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained
+by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai
+Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is
+a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that
+it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid
+publicity.'
+
+'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov
+remarked casually.
+
+'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry
+your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the
+more distressing to me through Arkady's ...'
+
+'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom
+'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a
+feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to
+him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.'
+
+'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off
+without waiting for the end of his sentence.
+
+When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire
+to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as
+ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous.
+He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged
+glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking
+dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But
+who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however,
+was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him
+by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha
+was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The
+originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and
+when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm,
+with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and
+muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a
+week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though
+he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with
+eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals;
+Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled
+eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went
+into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every
+one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only
+person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day
+used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they
+used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence.
+
+Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented
+at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel
+Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back
+was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant
+inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more
+charming.
+
+One day--the incident took place in the morning--Pavel Petrovitch felt
+better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch,
+having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the
+threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it
+down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch
+detained her.
+
+'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began;
+'are you busy?'
+
+'... I have to pour out tea.'
+
+'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor
+invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.'
+
+Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking.
+
+'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have
+long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?'
+
+'I?'
+
+'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at
+rest.'
+
+Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her
+as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly.
+
+'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her.
+
+'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered.
+
+'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is
+not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something
+incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?'
+
+'I love him.'
+
+'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?'
+
+'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.'
+
+'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called
+her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!'
+
+'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai
+Petrovitch--I shouldn't care to live after that.'
+
+'And will you never give him up for any one?'
+
+'For whom could I give him up?'
+
+'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away
+from here?'
+
+Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me
+for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'...
+
+'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I
+saw ...'
+
+'What did you see?'
+
+'Well, there ... in the arbour.'
+
+Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame
+for that?' she articulated with an effort.
+
+Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at
+all?'
+
+'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall
+always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat
+seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful
+day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for
+it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a
+thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.'
+
+But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel
+Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him,
+and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his
+eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large
+solitary tear was rolling down his cheek.
+
+'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my
+brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to
+any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be
+loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!'
+
+Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was
+her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel
+Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into
+it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to
+time....
+
+'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'...
+
+At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him.
+
+The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed
+her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door
+opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy.
+Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little
+shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his
+rough country coat with his little bare toes.
+
+Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son
+together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai
+Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka,
+had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person.
+
+'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her
+Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel
+Petrovitch.
+
+He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on
+the contrary, I am much better.'
+
+'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you
+going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she
+had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young
+hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried
+him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between
+you, eh?'
+
+'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly.
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said
+why himself.
+
+'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will
+carry out my one request.'
+
+'What request? Tell me.'
+
+'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea,
+depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over
+what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an
+honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you
+are setting--you, the best of men!'
+
+'What do you mean, Pavel?'
+
+'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you
+say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined
+opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has
+simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so
+rightly call my duty?'
+
+'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch
+responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in
+accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry
+ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are
+old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds.
+Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness
+that way into the bargain.'
+
+Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother.
+
+'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always
+declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and
+now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.'
+
+'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the
+leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been
+fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter;
+Fenitchka is to be my ... _belle soeur_.'
+
+'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?'
+
+'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is
+against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will
+be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions _au
+dix-neuvieme siecle_?'
+
+'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be
+careful.'
+
+The brothers embraced each other.
+
+'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?'
+queried Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any
+conversation between you?'
+
+'Conversation between us? _Quelle idee!_'
+
+'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and
+meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and
+consider ...'
+
+'But your mind is made up, I suppose?'
+
+'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my
+heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for
+you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God
+bless you!'
+
+'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when
+he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away
+directly he is married, somewhere a long way off--to Dresden or
+Florence, and will live there till I----'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed
+his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining
+full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man....
+And indeed he was a dead man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat
+in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground
+near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known
+among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were
+silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was
+picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and
+throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened
+impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet.
+A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold
+flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a
+patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to
+time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the
+very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting
+together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed
+not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in
+his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last;
+Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring.
+
+'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named
+in Russian _yasen_; no other tree is so lightly and brightly
+transparent (_yasno_) against the air as it is.'
+
+Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady
+thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for _talking finely_.'
+
+'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which
+Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he
+weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.'
+
+'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady.
+
+'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.'
+('Relics!' thought Arkady--'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a
+little; we shall transform you.'
+
+'Who will transform me? You?'
+
+'Who?--my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up
+quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before
+yesterday.'
+
+'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with
+Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?'
+
+'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.'
+
+'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his
+influence now?'
+
+Katya did not speak.
+
+'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.'
+
+'I can have no opinion about him.'
+
+'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I
+disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have
+an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.'
+
+'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like
+him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am
+different from him ... and you too are different from him.'
+
+'How's that?'
+
+'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.'
+
+'Am I tame too?'
+
+Katya nodded.
+
+Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you
+know, that's really an insult?'
+
+'Why, would you like to be a wild----'
+
+'Not wild, but strong, full of force.'
+
+'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish
+for it, but he has it.'
+
+'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya
+in a low voice.
+
+'Why do you think that?'
+
+'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her
+independence a great deal.'
+
+'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through
+his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to
+wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms,
+they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas.
+
+Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a
+whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.'
+
+'Of whom?'
+
+'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly.
+
+'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn.
+
+'I am too, observe I said, I am _too_.'
+
+Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began;
+'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so
+than when you first came.'
+
+'Really!'
+
+'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?'
+
+Arkady grew thoughtful.
+
+'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't
+it because I brought her your mother's letters?'
+
+'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'I shan't say.'
+
+'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.'
+
+'Yes, I am.'
+
+'And observant.'
+
+Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you?
+What are you thinking of?'
+
+'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you
+are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.'
+
+'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do
+I really keep every one at a distance?'
+
+Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya.
+
+'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position--I
+mean in your circumstances--don't often have that faculty; it is hard
+for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.'
+
+'But, you see, I am not rich.'
+
+Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of
+course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the
+thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he
+commented.
+
+'What?'
+
+'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of
+it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a
+kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says
+he is poor.'
+
+'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I
+only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.'
+
+'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just
+now.'
+
+'For instance?'
+
+'For instance, you--forgive the question--you wouldn't marry a rich
+man, I fancy, would you?'
+
+'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry
+him.'
+
+'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And
+why wouldn't you marry him?'
+
+'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.'
+
+'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...'
+
+'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only
+inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can
+understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've
+had enough of that as it is.'
+
+'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he
+went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just
+as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you
+wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however
+strong and holy it might be ...'
+
+'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya.
+
+'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than
+she.'
+
+'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly;
+'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's
+beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch,
+ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.'
+
+'What do you mean by "you in particular"--and what makes you suppose I
+am joking?'
+
+'Of course, you are joking.'
+
+'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I
+have not put it strongly enough even?'
+
+'I don't understand you.'
+
+'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant
+than you are.'
+
+'How?'
+
+Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few
+more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but
+she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping
+to pick them up.
+
+'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to
+you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your
+sister, but above every one in the world.'
+
+He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the
+words that had fallen from his lips.
+
+Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap,
+and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a
+crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not
+smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet
+undefined, feeling.
+
+'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I
+thought you came into the garden with Arkady.'
+
+Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately
+dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the
+tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.'
+
+'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his
+room.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Have you been reading together?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up.
+
+'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?'
+
+'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand.
+
+'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to
+suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for.
+They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I
+noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think
+enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are
+nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your
+little feet. But you're not vain.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her
+beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with
+her, went away too--but not to try on her shoes.
+
+'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted
+the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the
+sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at
+them.'
+
+But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly
+upstairs.
+
+Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken
+him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room.
+
+'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here
+long?'
+
+'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce
+him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.'
+
+'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running
+hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of
+Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very
+probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though
+still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over
+his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he
+did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations
+on his neck.
+
+'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating,
+bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes
+to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home;
+every one's well, eh?'
+
+'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov.
+'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and
+listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty
+vigorous sentences.'
+
+Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel
+Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he
+did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his
+uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that
+it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave
+a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were
+ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him.
+
+'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with
+feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find
+yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my
+father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to
+tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a
+piece of foolery. No, I turned in here--the devil only knows why. You
+see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the
+scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed;
+that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more
+look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.'
+
+'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some
+emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?'
+
+Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him.
+
+'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me _you_ have given me
+up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna
+Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.'
+
+'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?'
+
+'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By
+the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell
+me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage
+of discretion?'
+
+'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you,
+I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.'
+
+'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you
+needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A
+sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to
+part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.'
+
+'Yevgeny ...'
+
+'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much
+more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say
+good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a
+loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the
+governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the
+horses out.'
+
+'Upon my word, this is too much!'
+
+'Why?'
+
+'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last
+degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.'
+
+'Oh, you're mistaken there.'
+
+'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what
+are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on
+her account yourself?'
+
+'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.'
+
+But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a
+summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going
+to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able
+to get it out easily.
+
+Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so
+unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She
+held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an
+involuntary sense of tension.
+
+'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I
+must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come
+to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his
+follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will
+allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but
+cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me
+with repugnance.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high
+mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand
+a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure.
+
+'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so
+because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for
+flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was
+a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?'
+
+'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely
+imaginary feeling.'
+
+'Really? I am very glad to hear that.'
+
+So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they
+were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in
+their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could
+the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as
+though they completely believed one another.
+
+Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been
+doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his
+duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought
+that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and
+answered that he had been at work all the time.
+
+'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first,
+goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then
+it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into
+my old routine, and took up my real part again.'
+
+'What part is that, may I ask?'
+
+'The character of aunt, guardian, mother--call it what you like. By the
+way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship
+with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I
+have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's
+young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me,
+Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'
+
+'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she
+went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to
+avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's
+more friends with Katya.'
+
+Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he
+thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly
+smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with
+you?'
+
+'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips.
+
+'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you
+didn't know it, and I've told you something new?'
+
+Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny
+Vassilyitch.'
+
+'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And
+don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to
+himself.
+
+'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much
+importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined
+to exaggeration.'
+
+'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.'
+
+'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into
+another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had
+told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she
+was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was
+jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So
+people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world
+as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch
+occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at
+once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm,
+betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger.
+
+Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began
+to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at
+last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess
+and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the
+house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an
+hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden
+himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin
+propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They
+were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna
+Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as
+once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to
+be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated
+'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up
+in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the
+fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall
+at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for
+statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These
+statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy,
+Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her
+finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day
+some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of
+the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as
+the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still
+to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood
+many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women.
+The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick
+bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense
+green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna
+had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake
+there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of
+the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to
+read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect
+peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in
+the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that
+flows for ever both around us and within us.
+
+The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite
+stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought
+her to come with him to the 'temple.'
+
+There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had
+already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the
+expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her
+sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room,
+and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a
+little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with
+Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to
+attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this,
+even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and
+Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of
+some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said
+to herself that it was for the last time.
+
+'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since
+I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have
+discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one,
+very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched
+upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed
+here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance
+Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and
+you know that better than any one else--you to whom I really owe this
+change.'
+
+'I?... Me?...' said Katya.
+
+'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went
+on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be
+useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer
+look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much
+closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself
+tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately,
+thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but
+I hope you understand me.'
+
+Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady.
+
+'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while
+above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of
+the birch--'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those
+... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him,
+and so I ... I resolved ...'
+
+But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread,
+stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did
+not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up
+to in all this, and to be waiting for something.
+
+'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself
+together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates
+in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you
+remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with
+the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking
+further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the
+hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed
+... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it;
+and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!'
+Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn
+her head.) 'If I could hope ...'
+
+'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the
+clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.
+
+Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes
+that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking
+along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but
+they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very
+breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood
+still just opposite the temple.
+
+'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are
+both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are
+tired; we are both--why affect not to know it?--clever; at first we
+interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...'
+
+'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov.
+
+'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however,
+it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point;
+there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We
+did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...'
+
+'So you need him?' queried Bazarov.
+
+'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me,
+and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his
+aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think
+more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special
+charm ...'
+
+'The word _fascination_ is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov
+interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his
+choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with
+me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a
+serious symptom.'
+
+'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and
+I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such
+intimacy between them.'
+
+'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov
+brought out, drawling.
+
+'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a
+strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I
+should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at
+the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.'
+
+'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second
+place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am
+good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a
+corpse.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began;
+but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried
+away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a
+brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated
+... everything was still.
+
+Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her
+head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking
+voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever
+and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this,
+to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am
+not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me?
+You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these
+last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that
+everything--understand me--everything else has vanished long ago and
+left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you
+... believe me!'
+
+Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long
+hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.'
+
+Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina
+Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you
+believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...'
+
+'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her
+large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to
+his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat,
+'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling
+gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the
+eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and
+gratitude, a man may be happy on earth.
+
+The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon
+Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded
+sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her
+sister's hand.
+
+Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control
+himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was
+instantaneously aflame in his breast.
+
+'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday
+imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you
+intending to do now?'
+
+'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing.
+
+'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt
+anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she
+had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's
+a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's
+the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to
+thwart him.'
+
+Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed
+and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ...
+I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I
+will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him.
+But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you
+we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what
+amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head
+away.
+
+'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and
+he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I
+hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and
+I will rejoice from a distance.'
+
+Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why
+should you not stay _now_? Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ...
+one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid,
+but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.'
+
+'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering
+opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been
+moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold
+out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the
+water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.'
+
+Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a
+bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity
+for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy.
+
+But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a
+poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck
+to you.'
+
+'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna
+Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture.
+
+'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away.
+
+'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day
+to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a
+capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected
+something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took
+you by surprise yourself?'
+
+'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered
+Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital
+thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.'
+
+'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm
+doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting
+hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up
+with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you
+remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina
+Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can
+sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it
+so well that she'll have you under her thumb--to be sure, though,
+that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from
+the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive
+ourselves--we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you
+have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely
+existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of
+youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get
+beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good.
+You won't fight--and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps--but we
+mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud
+would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're
+admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but
+we're sick of that--we want something else! we want to smash other
+people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for
+all that--_ay volla-too_, as my parent is fond of saying.'
+
+'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady
+mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?'
+
+Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other
+things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's
+sentimentalism--that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as
+you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content.
+They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha!
+I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every
+one.... What now? embracing, eh?'
+
+Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and
+the tears fairly gushed from his eyes.
+
+'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I
+rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll
+console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into
+the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by
+side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that
+example.'
+
+'What does that mean?' asked Arkady.
+
+'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that
+the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!...
+Good-bye!'
+
+The cart creaked and rolled away.
+
+Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady
+completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow
+her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He
+was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch.
+Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young
+people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by
+themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess
+out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful
+frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna
+was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to
+herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did
+not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna
+Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov
+was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity,
+and love of ease, and egoism ...'
+
+'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely
+imaginary feeling?'
+
+But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with
+her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard
+haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest;
+and it was not difficult for her--she had set her own mind at rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's
+arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly
+excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that
+Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of
+her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike
+appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece
+of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head
+round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on,
+then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly
+noiseless chuckle.
+
+'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him.
+'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.'
+
+'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!'
+answered Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study,
+he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all
+superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my
+dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser
+this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small
+compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now
+absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say
+sometimes--and before he had time to look round, she was nervously
+fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never
+mind, I only----' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch
+and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find
+out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day--cabbage-broth
+or beetroot-soup?'--'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'--'Oh, he
+will get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up;
+the fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or
+vague restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his
+movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He
+gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in
+the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily
+Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after
+Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but
+his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he
+complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or
+angry--that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful--that's what's
+so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing
+thin, he's lost his colour.'--'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the
+old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't
+allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most
+circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his
+health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and
+casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead
+up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation:
+'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's
+worse than the old one.'--'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily
+Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained
+fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning
+_a propos_ of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk
+about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I
+was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead
+of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.'
+
+Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering
+tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say
+to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say
+all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch
+in history will be started by you--you give us our real language and
+our laws.'
+
+The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this
+sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....'
+
+'You explain to me what your _mir_ is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it
+the same _mir_ that is said to rest on three fishes?'
+
+'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the
+peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal,
+simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the
+_mir_, we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our
+fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the
+peasant.'
+
+After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders
+contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly
+homewards.
+
+'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and
+surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been
+following his conversation with Bazarov.--'Arrears? eh?'
+
+'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there
+was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary,
+there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he
+clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a
+bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?'
+
+'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking
+back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to
+deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging
+his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants
+(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in
+his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the
+while something of the nature of a buffooning clown.
+
+He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily
+Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old
+man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son
+helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his
+practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at
+the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make
+use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily
+Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy
+dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his
+pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more
+malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted
+father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to
+repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for
+instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason,
+reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his
+son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that
+expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered
+to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover,
+the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him
+with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's
+cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of
+Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking
+God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you
+will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you
+know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no
+better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that
+she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words
+she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and
+rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a
+towel.
+
+Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and
+though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved
+it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father
+Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar
+seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it
+up!'
+
+'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what
+answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man.
+
+One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to
+Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a
+truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he
+had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his
+regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and
+declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his
+brother home again; he died in the cart.
+
+Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if
+he had any caustic.
+
+'Yes; what do you want it for?'
+
+'I must have some ... to burn a cut.'
+
+'For whom?'
+
+'For myself.'
+
+'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?'
+
+'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where
+they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to
+open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of
+that sort for a long while.'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without
+uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once
+with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go
+away.
+
+'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.'
+
+Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!'
+
+'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one.
+Do I hurt?'
+
+'Press harder; don't be afraid.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be
+better to burn it with hot iron?'
+
+'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless,
+really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.'
+
+'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the
+words.
+
+'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district
+doctor no caustic?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable
+thing as that!'
+
+'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away.
+
+Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily
+Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's
+room; and though far from referring to the cut--he even tried to talk
+about the most irrelevant subjects--he looked so persistently into his
+face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience
+and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to
+bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course,
+he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not
+sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself
+in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept
+watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear
+it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a
+single dish.
+
+'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of
+the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely
+cooked.'
+
+'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.'
+
+'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it
+ache?'
+
+'Yes. Of course, it aches.'
+
+Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert.
+
+'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't
+you let me feel your pulse?'
+
+Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm
+feverish.'
+
+'Has there been any shivering?'
+
+'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can
+send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.'
+
+'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina
+Vlasyevna.
+
+'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away.
+
+Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction
+of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and
+clutched at his hair in silent desperation.
+
+Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in
+heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening
+his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's
+pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged
+his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the
+cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did
+not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very
+little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,'
+and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his
+motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint
+consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with
+giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily
+Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and
+asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the
+wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she
+bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed
+suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a
+shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to
+comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to
+the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various
+questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his
+armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He
+went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as
+though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of
+amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his
+son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at
+last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with
+him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in
+reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself
+taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a
+doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he
+should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed
+dull look on his father, and asked for drink.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his
+forehead. It seemed on fire.
+
+'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way;
+I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.'
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow
+at his legs.
+
+'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you!
+You've caught cold!'
+
+'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to
+talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.'
+
+'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!'
+
+'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed
+his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror.
+
+'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's
+something like ... infection ...'
+
+'Pyaemia,' put in his son.
+
+'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...'
+
+'Pyaemia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten
+your text-books?'
+
+'Well, well--as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!'
+
+'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die
+so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and
+mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's
+the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want
+to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control.
+To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation.
+I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly.
+While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running
+round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a
+woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?'
+
+'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.'
+
+'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to
+comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...'
+
+'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man.
+
+'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh,
+yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be
+surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame
+Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?'
+(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his
+greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?'
+
+'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die,
+Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?'
+
+'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.'
+
+'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.'
+
+'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll
+go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and
+nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.'
+
+He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch
+went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom,
+simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures.
+
+'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.'
+
+The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived,
+and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a
+cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of
+recovery.
+
+'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state _not_ set off for
+Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy
+table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away.
+'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here
+still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned
+from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will
+disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a
+short pause--'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her
+exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do
+believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a
+Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?'
+
+'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly
+streamed down his cheeks.
+
+Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as
+is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not
+lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still
+struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his
+fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten
+from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one
+possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing
+nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ...
+mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an
+effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him,
+ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe
+and something 'warming and strengthening'--that's to say, brandy. Arina
+Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time
+to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of
+her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen
+of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone
+off to Madame Odintsov's.
+
+The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high
+fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina
+Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of
+tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little.
+
+'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at
+hand!'
+
+'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's
+found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding
+thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for
+instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a
+clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying
+him.'
+
+This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved
+Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.
+
+'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were
+clapping his hands.
+
+Bazarov smiled mournfully.
+
+'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?'
+
+'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered
+Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you
+remember? did you send?'
+
+'To be sure I did.'
+
+The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its
+onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as
+though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was
+several times on the point of speaking--and could not.
+
+'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!'
+
+This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He
+turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the
+load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it,
+father?'
+
+'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before
+Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him.
+'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make
+use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a
+Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but
+still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little,
+what ...'
+
+The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's
+face, though he still lay with closed eyes.
+
+'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at
+last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say
+yourself I am better.'
+
+'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's
+hands, and in doing the duty ...'
+
+'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the
+crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament
+to men who're unconscious, you know.'
+
+'Yevgeny, I beg.'
+
+'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.'
+And he laid his head back on the pillow.
+
+The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and,
+clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ...
+
+The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is
+peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon
+his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the
+neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up
+and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his
+little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed
+abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush
+of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in
+livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a
+black mantle was getting out of it ...
+
+'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living?
+You are his father? I have a doctor with me.'
+
+'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he
+pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna
+Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped
+very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is
+living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven
+has come to us....'
+
+'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of
+the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in
+the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments
+like a mad woman.
+
+'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did
+not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an
+angel!'
+
+'_Wo ist der Kranke?_ and where is the patient?' said the doctor at
+last, with some impatience.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me,
+wurdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations.
+
+'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna
+Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and
+she herself is here.'
+
+Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?'
+
+'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a
+doctor, to you.'
+
+Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.'
+
+'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with
+the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since
+Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone,
+and we will have a little consultation.'
+
+Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in
+Latin; you see, I know the meaning of _jam moritur_.'
+
+'_Der Herr scheint des Deutschen maechtig zu sein_,' began the new
+follower of Aesculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.
+
+'_Ich_ ... _gabe_ ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man.
+
+'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation
+began.
+
+Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch,
+came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it
+was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery.
+
+She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly
+was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face,
+with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a
+sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not
+have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously
+through her brain.
+
+'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of
+mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.'
+
+'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ...
+
+'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy,
+now?'
+
+With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame.
+
+Vassily Ivanovitch went out.
+
+'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they
+say, visit the dying too.'
+
+'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope----'
+
+'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm
+under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the
+future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far
+I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's
+all up!----' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to
+you ... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less
+than ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking
+up. Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so
+beautiful ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder.
+
+'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to
+me; you know, my illness is catching.'
+
+Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair
+near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.
+
+'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh,
+and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long,
+that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time.
+You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing
+still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I
+wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a
+giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently,
+though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm
+not going to turn tail.'
+
+Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna
+Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing
+her breath timorously.
+
+'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the
+living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's
+nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort
+the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't
+to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a
+candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed.
+And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the
+butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm
+getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...'
+
+Bazarov put his hand to his brow.
+
+Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...'
+
+He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.
+
+'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their
+last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you
+then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.
+
+'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ...
+darkness ...'
+
+Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in
+a whisper.
+
+'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not
+fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness,
+and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites
+of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction,
+when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as
+though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking
+censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror
+passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his
+last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily
+Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he
+shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his
+fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I
+rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both
+fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related
+afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like
+lambs at noonday ...'
+
+But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then,
+too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the
+weary and heavy laden....
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel
+stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the
+rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke
+above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when
+they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung
+by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day
+was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in
+the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There
+were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch
+in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid
+the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two
+weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses--Arkady
+and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day
+Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was
+going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also
+directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome
+presents to the young people.
+
+Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was
+placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade.
+Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the
+'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had
+changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better
+looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an
+elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And
+Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet
+head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with
+deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything
+surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your
+pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone--all the others smiled,
+and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little
+sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with
+humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a
+sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked
+confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was
+already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his
+glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch.
+
+'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began;
+'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I
+... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it
+is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.'
+
+'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.'
+
+'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say,
+let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as
+quickly as you can!'
+
+Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not
+excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which
+she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass
+which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be
+happy, my friends! _Farewell!_' This English finale passed unnoticed;
+but all were touched.
+
+'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as
+she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in
+response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud.
+
+The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care
+to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the
+present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him.
+
+Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good
+sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a
+lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and
+remarkable fluency--still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They
+live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain
+complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K---- is dead,
+forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at
+Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become
+zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a
+fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the
+mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works
+with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district;
+delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants
+ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought
+to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of
+the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete
+satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with _chic_, or
+depression of the _emancipation_ (pronouncing it as though it were
+French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the
+damned _'mancipation_.' He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina
+Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and
+talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and
+Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the
+latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her
+side.
+
+A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity
+and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry
+with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had
+refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while
+Piotr had not only a watch--he had a pair of kid shoes.
+
+In the Bruhl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock--the most
+fashionable time for walking--you may meet a man about fifty, quite
+grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome,
+elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by
+moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel
+Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and
+has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English
+and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost
+modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect
+him for being, as they say, _'a perfect gentleman.'_ With Russians he
+is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of
+himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability,
+negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known
+that in the highest society this is regarded as _tres distingue_! He
+reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver
+ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after
+by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary
+opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom,
+however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one
+can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for
+the theatre, and such things as _der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff_. He does
+everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise
+in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society
+lion;--but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he
+suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church,
+when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and
+remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then
+suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing
+himself....
+
+Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now
+studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to
+her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises
+with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural
+science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who,
+astounding the naive German professors at first by the soundness of
+their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the
+sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company
+with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from
+nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too,
+with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also
+getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the
+'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a
+beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article,
+hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who
+beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as
+before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man.
+
+There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of
+Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched
+appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the
+grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted
+gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were
+pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty
+shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is
+one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it
+and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young
+fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried
+in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite
+feeble old people come to visit it--a husband and wife. Supporting one
+another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing,
+fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep,
+and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is
+lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the
+stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot
+tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their
+son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their
+tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not
+all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the
+heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at
+us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone,
+of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal
+reconciliation and of life without end.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***
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