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Updated: June 22, 2025
It was the old maid, Virginsky's relation. "I am Shatov, my wife has come back to me and she is just confined...." "Well, let her be, get along." "I've come for Arina Prohorovna; I won't go without Arina Prohorovna!" "She can't attend to every one. Practice at night is a special line. Take yourself off to Maksheyev's and don't dare to make that din," rattled the exasperated female voice.
But Arina had not come so far to be, stopped so easily: she tried to push between them, but they opposed her; she persisted, and one of them pushed her roughly back. The child fell, struck her head against a seat, and got up bleeding and crying, "You are very proud for a slave. Is it because you belong to the great lady who burnt the Red House?"
I do not know if I am broken or merely tired, but for the moment I feel all right. I am going to bring Arina here, she will be my wife and keep house for me. And I shall live.... I am keeping step with some elemental Force . . . I shall have a son.... It will be a totally different life for me, Lida."
Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all stupid.
Tell them to send the big samovar to the maids' room the very biggest; and find Annushka and send her to me. ARÍNA. Certainly, certainly. PELAGÉYA EGÓROVNA. Yes, go along! Go along! Nothing but sorrow and here comes more trouble! Yes, yes, I'm worried to death! Oh, oh, oh! I'm tired out, absolutely tired out! I've a lot to do, and my head's just spinning.
Miss Virginsky, a rosy-cheeked student and a nihilist, who was also good-looking, short, plump and round as a little ball, had settled herself beside Arina Prohorovna, almost in her travelling clothes. She held a roll of paper in her hand, and scrutinised the guests with impatient and roving eyes.
The woman who had been hired by Anna Prohorovna, and was there for the night, could not succeed in calming her, and as soon as it was daylight ran to fetch Arina Prohorovna herself, assuring the invalid that the latter knew where her husband was, and when he would be back.
'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.
She screamed that she wanted to live, that "she must, she must," and was afraid to die. "I don't want to, I don't want to!" she repeated. If Arina Prohorovna had not been there, things would have gone very badly. By degrees she gained complete control of the patient who began to obey every word, every order from her like a child.
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
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