'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!'