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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
He was smoking a long pipe and screwing up his eyes to keep the sun out of them. The horses stopped. "Arrived at last," said Bazaroff's father, still going on smoking, though the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. "Enyusha, Enyusha," was heard a trembling woman's voice.
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. His wife did not go to bed either, and, leaving the study door open a very little, she kept coming up to it to listen "how Enyusha was breathing" and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch.
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 woman, in a white cap and a short, striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen had not Bazaroff supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly twined round his neck. "For what ages, my dear one, my darling Enyusha!" she cried, her wrinkled face wet with tears.
'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?
'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.
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.
'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.
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.
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