But, however, doesn’t this prove to the sagacious class of readers (it proves to the majority of literary men, and this is composed of the most sagacious people), doesn’t it prove, I say, that Kirsánof and Lopukhóf were cold and deprived of all aesthetic sense? This was not so very long ago a favorite expression among the aesthetic writers who had lofty ideals. “Aesthetic sense” may be even now fashionable; I don’t know how it is; I have not seen it used for some time. Is it natural that young men, who possess a spark of taste, or a grain of heart, can fail to be interested in the face when speaking of a girl? Of course these people have no artistic feeling; that is, aesthetic sense: and according to the opinion of others, who have learned human nature in circles which are richer in aesthetic feelings than the company of our aesthetic literati, young men in such circumstances will invariably speak about young women from the plastic side. Gentlemen, it used to be so, but not now; it is now true in certain instances, but not with those young men who are alone regarded as the present generation. Gentlemen, this is a peculiar generation.
XI
“Well, my dear, haven’t you found any situation for me yet?”
“Not yet, Viéra Pavlovna, but don’t despair; we shall find one. Every day I go to see two or three families. It is impossible that a respectable place will be not found at last where you can live.”
“Akh! but if you only knew, my friend, how hard, how hard, it is for me to remain here. When there was no near possibility for me to escape from this degradation, from this misery, I kept myself by main force in a deathly apathy. But now, my friend, it is too suffocating in this foul, wretched atmosphere!”
“Patience, patience, Viéra Pavlovna. We shall find something.” Here is an example of their talk for a week.
Tuesday.—“Patience, patience, Viéra Pavlovna, we shall find something.”
“My friend, how much trouble this is causing you! What a waste of time! How can I repay you?”
“You will repay me, my dear, by not getting vexed.” Lopukhóf said this, and became confused. Viérotchka looked at him. No, it was not that he did not finish his sentence; he did not intend to add to it, and he is waiting for her answer.
“What should I be vexed about? What have you done?” Lopukhóf became still more confused, and seemed to be grieved.
“What is the matter, my friend?”
“To think you did not notice it at all!” He spoke so sorrowfully, and then he laughed so gayly. “Akh, bozhe moï! how stupid I am, how stupid! Forgive me, my friend.”
“Nu! what is the matter?”
“Nothing; you have already given me my reward.”
“Akh! what do you mean? What a jester you are! Well, all right, you may call me so.”
On Thursday came the “Trial of Hamlet,” according to Sakson’s Grammar. For several days after that, Marya Alekséyevna takes some little—though not much—rest from her inspection.
Saturday.—After tea, Marya Alekséyevna goes out to count over the clothes which the laundress had brought.
“My dear, I think the matter will be successful.”
“Really? If that is so, Akh, bozhe moï! Akh, bozhe moï! arrange it as soon as possible! It seems to me that I shall die if this is to go on much longer. When will it be, and how?”
“It will be decided tomorrow. The hope is almost, almost certain.”
“What is it? How is it?”
“Keep calm, my friend; you’ll be noticed. Here you are almost dancing with joy. Marya Alekséyevna will be back after something if you don’t look out.”
“Well, you are a fine fellow! You came in so radiant that mámenka looked at you a long time.”
“At any rate, I told her why I was happy; I saw that it was necessary to tell her, and so I said that I have found a splendid place.”
“You horrid, horrid man! here you keep cautioning me, and you have not told me, as yet, a single thing. What is it? Do tell me at last!”
“This morning Kirsánof—you know, my dear, that my chum’s name is Kirsánof—”
“I know, you horrid, horrid man, I know! Now, speak quick, without any more nonsense.”
“You, yourself, are hindering me, my friend.”
“Akh, bozhe moï! and all these digressions without ever once coming to the point. I don’t know how I could punish you. I will get you down on your knees yet; it cannot be done here. I command you to get down on your knees in your room, as soon as you get home, and I want your Kirsánof to look on, and then send me a note, saying that you were down on your knees. Do you hear what I am going to do with you?”
“Very good; I will get down on my knees; and now I shall hold my peace. After I have undergone my punishment and am forgiven, I will speak.”
“I forgive you; only speak, you horrid man!”
“Thank you; you grant forgiveness when you yourself are to blame. You, yourself, have made all the interruptions.”
“Viéra Pavlovna, why do you call
