Fathers and Sons
"That subsequently I grew stale in your eyes," hazarded Bazarov.
"Oh no! That that was not the cause of the situation you are well
aware. But, whatever the cause, you and I have not a _compelling need_
of one another. Therein lies the point. In other words, both of us have
in us--how shall I express it?--both of us are too mutually _akin._ We
were slow to grasp that fact. Now, Arkady---"
"Have you a 'compelling need'--of him?" put in Bazarov.
"For shame, Evgenii Vasilitch! You yourself have averred that he is
not wholly indifferent to me; and I too have long suspected that he
cherishes for me at least a measure of admiration. As we are on the
subject, I will not attempt to conceal from you that of late the fact
that I am old enough to be his aunt has not prevented me from devoting
to him more of my thoughts than I used to do. In his fresh young
sentimentality there is a certain charm."
"The term 'fascination' comes handier in such cases," said Bazarov in
the deep, quiet tone which, with him, always signified sarcasm. "As a
matter of fact, I found Arkady secretive yesterday--he made but the
scantiest of references either to you or your sister. That constitutes
an important symptom."
"Katia and he are brother and sister to one another," said Madame.
"Indeed I am pleased to see it--though perhaps I ought not to connive
at so much familiarity."
"I presume that the element speaking in you is the sister?" drawled
Bazarov.
"Of course! But need we stand here? Let us move on. We hold curious
conversations, do we not? Indeed, to think of all the things which I
now say to you! Yet I still fear you a little, even though I trust you
as being, at heart, a good man."
"I am far from good; and you only call me so because I have lost all
significance in your eyes. Ill boots it to weave chaplets for the head
of a corpse."
"Evgenii Vasilitch, we cannot always command ourselves," came the sound
of Anna Sergievna's next words; but the next moment the wind soughed,
the leaves rustled, and the rest of what she was saying was carried
away into the distance. Nothing beyond it save (after a pause) "You are
free, are you not?" on the part of Bazarov could be distinguished.
Then the sound of their footsteps died away, and once more complete
silence reigned.
Turning to Katia, Arkady saw that she was sitting as before, but with
her head more bent.
"Katerina Sergievna," he said tremulously, and with his hands clasped,
"I shall love you always, and beyond recall; nor shall I ever love
another woman. This is what I have been trying to say to you this
morning, in the hope that I might ascertain your views, and then beg
for your hand. I am not a rich man, but I would make any sacrifice for
your sake. Come, then! Will you answer me? Will you trust me? Surely
you do not think that I am speaking out of frivolity? Recall the past
few days: may you not rest assured now that my remaining self (you know
what I mean) is gone for ever? Come, look at me--look at me and speak
but a word, a single word. I love you, I love you! Do not refuse to
believe that I mean what I say."
Gravely, yet with a radiant look in her eyes, Katia raised her head,
and, after a moment's thought, said with the trace of a smile: "_Yes._"
Arkady leapt up.
"'Yes'? You have said 'Yes,' Katia! But what do mean by that word? Do
you mean that you believe in my love, or do you mean that----? No, no;
I dare not finish the sentence."
Katia repeated only the word "Yes," but this time she left no room for
misunderstanding. Arkady seized her large, but not unshapely, hands in
his, and, panting with rapture, strained her to his breast. He could
scarcely stand upon his feet--he could only keep repeating again and
again: "Katia! Katia!" Meanwhile she shed a few innocent tears at which
she smiled as they fell. The man who has not seen such tears in the
eyes of his beloved does not know the height of happiness to which,
with mingled joy and gratitude and modesty, a woman can attain.
Next morning Anna Sergievna sent for Bazarov to her boudoir; and when
he arrived she, with a forced smile, handed him a folded sheet of
notepaper. That sheet represented a letter from Arkady, a letter in
which he begged for her sister's hand.
Bazarov skimmed the epistle--then scarcely could forbear venting the
rancour which blazed for a moment in his breast.
"It is as I said, you see," he commented. "Only yesterday you were
telling me that his feeling for Katerina Sergievna was that of a
brother for a sister! And what are you going to do?"
"What would you advise me to do?" she said, still smiling.
"I presume"--he also was smiling, although he was feeling as wholly out
of spirits, as little inclined towards gaiety, as she was--"I presume
that we have no choice but to bestow our blessing upon the young
couple. In every respect it would be a good match, for his father has
a nice little property, Arkady is the only son, and the father is too
easy-going to be likely to raise any difficulty."
Madame Odintsov rose and paced the room for a moment or two--her face
alternately flushing and turning pale.
"So that is what you think?" she said. "Well, I too see no impediment.
Indeed, the affair rejoices me both for Katia's sake and for--yes, for
his. But first I must await his father's consent; and for that purpose
I will send Arkady himself to interview Nikolai Petrovitch. So I was
right yesterday, was I not? I was right when I said that you and I are
become elderly? How did I fail to foresee this? I am indeed surprised
at it!"
Again she smiled, but, in the very act of smiting, turned away.
"Our young folk are indeed cunning," remarked Bazarov. After a pause he
added:
"Good-bye now. I hope that the affair may develop Well. From a distance
I, too, shall rejoice."
She turned and faced him.
"Need you really go?" she asked. "Why not stay a little longer? Pray
stay, for I find talking to you a stimulant--it is like walking on the
edge of a precipice: at first one is afraid, then one gathers courage.
Do not go."
"I thank you for the proposal, as also for your flattering estimate of
my conversational powers," said Bazarov. "Nevertheless, I have tarried
overlong in a sphere which is alien to my personality. Only for a while
can flying fish support themselves in the air. Then they relapse into
their natural element. Allow me to flop back into mine."
Yet a bitter laugh was twisting his pale features. She saw it, and felt
sorry for him.
"The man still loves me," was her thought, and she extended a
sympathetic hand.
He understood her, however.
"No, no!" he exclaimed as he withdrew a step or two. "Though poor, I
have never yet accepted aims. Good-bye, and may your lot always be
happy."
"Yet we shall meet again," she replied with an involuntary gesture. "Of
that I am certain."
"Anything may occur in this world," he remarked--then bowed and was
gone.
That afternoon he said to Arkady as he knelt down to pack his trunk:
"I hear that you are going to make a nest for yourself? And why should
you not? It is an excellent course to take. But for you to dissemble
is useless, and I had scarcely expected that you would do so. Has the
preoccupation of it all deprived you of your tongue?"
"When I left you at Marino I had no thought of this," said Arkady. "You
are the dissembler, though, are you not? For when you say 'It is an
excellent course to take,' you dissemble, as well as waste your time,
seeing that I am well aware of your views on marriage."
"Merely my way of expressing myself. You see what I am doing at this
moment. In my trunk is a vacant space. I am packing it with straw.
And the same with life's trunk. To avoid leaving empty spaces therein
we pad the interstices. You need not be offended. You cannot fail
to remember what I really think of Katerina Sergievna. While some
maidens earn cheap reputations by merely smiling at right moments, your
_inamorata_ can show more--indeed, so much more that soon you will be
(and very properly) under her thumb."
Slapping down the lid of the trunk, Bazarov rose from the floor.
"Now, farewell," he said. "No, I will not deceive you: we are parting
for ever, and you know it. In my opinion you have acted wisely,
for you were not meant to live the hard, bitter, reckless life of
Nihilism--you lack at once the necessary coolness and the necessary
venom. But this is not to say that in you there is not a due measure of
youthful spirit. What I mean is that that asset alone is not sufficient
for the work. The _dvorianin_ is powerless to progress beyond either
well-bred effervescence or well-bred humility: and both sentiments
are futile. For example, you have not yet been blooded, yet already
you think yourself a man: whereas the two chief conditions of our
existence are battle and bloodshed. Yes, the dust from our heels hurts
your eyes, and the grime on our bodies makes you feel dirty. In other
words, although you derive a certain gratification from indulging in
self-criticism, and think no small beer of yourself, you have failed
to grow to our stature. To us such things are vanities. Tools' of an
altogether different kind are what we need for the task. Consequently
I repeat that, though a fine young fellow enough, you are also just a
little-minded, so-called 'liberal-minded' _baritch_[1]--what my father
calls a 'product of evolution.'"
"Evgenii," was Arkady's sad reply, "we are parting for ever, yet this
is all that you have to say to me!"
Bazarov scratched his head.
"Something else I could say, Arkady," he replied. "But I will not say
that something--it would savour too much of Romanticism. Get married
as soon as you can, line your nest, and beget plenty of offspring. Nor
will those offspring be altogether fools, seeing that they will be born
in due season, and not when you and I were.... My horses are ready and
I must depart. Of the rest of the household I have taken leave already.
Shall we embrace once more, eh?"
The tears gushed in torrents from Arkady's eyes as he flung himself
upon his old friend and mentor.
"Ah, youth, youth!" commented Bazarov. "See what comes of being young!
But before long, I know, Katerina Sergievna will have set things right.
Yes, she will console you."
With a last good-bye he mounted the travelling cart, and, in the act of
doing so, pointed to a pair of jackdaws which were sitting perched upon
the stable roof.
"See!" he cried. "_There's_ an instructive lesson for you!"
"What do you mean?" queried Arkady.
"What?" was Bazarov's ejaculation. "Are you so ignorant of, or so
forgetful of, natural history as not to know that the jackdaw is the
most respected of family birds? Mark the good example before you.
Farewell, señor!"
And with a clatter the cart started on its way.
Nor was Bazarov mistaken, for, even before nightfall, Arkady, deep
in conversation with Katia, had completely forgotten his vanished
instructor. Moreover, already the young fellow was beginning to play
second fiddle to his _fiancée_: which circumstance the girl, on
realising, in no way felt surprised at. So it was arranged that on the
following day he should depart for Marino to interview his father;
and in the meanwhile, Anna Sergievna, having no desire to hamper the
young couple, merely observed such a show of propriety as involved
her not leaving them together for long, but at the same time keeping
at a distance the Princess, who, since the tidings of the impending
union, had been in a state of lachrymose rancour. For herself, Anna
Sergievna had at first feared that the spectacle of the young people's
happiness would prove too much for her; but now the contrary proved to
be the case, and she not only failed to feel hurt at the spectacle,