CHAPTER IX
On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He waswalking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some ofthe trees, especially the oaks, had not done well.
'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, andspruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour therehas done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they'reaccommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. Butthere's some one in here.'
In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarovstood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend.
'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What apretty girl!'
'Whom are you speaking of?'
'You know; only one of them was pretty.'
Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly whoFenitchka was.
'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. Ilike him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must makefriends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour.
'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about,for mercy's sake.'
'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself--I'mnot a booby.'
Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap.
'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm aharmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.'
Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him withoutspeaking.
'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praiseshave never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed?Is he cutting his teeth?'
'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gumsare swollen again.'
'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.'
Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishmentboth of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and wasnot frightened.
'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he willhave a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are youquite well yourself?'
'Quite, thank God.'
'Thank God, indeed--that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turningto Dunyasha.
Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outsidethe gates, only giggled in answer.
'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.'
Fenitchka received the baby in her arms.
'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone.
'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a waywith them.'
'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha.
'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go tosome people for anything.'
'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distancefor some time, had gone up to the arbour.
He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head backand screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion.
'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkadyindulgently, and the two friends walked away.
'What's her name?' asked Bazarov.
'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady.
'And her father's name? One must know that too.'
'Nikolaevna.'
'_Bene_. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Somepeople, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! Whatis there to embarrass her? She's a mother--she's all right.'
'She's all right,' observed Arkady,--'but my father.'
'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov.
'Well, no, I don't think so.'
'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?'
'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retortedArkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point ofview; I think he ought to marry her.'
'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellowswe are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expectthat of you.'
The friends walked a few paces in silence.
'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov beganagain. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; thebuildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers;while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quitefound out which yet.'
'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.'
'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a deadcertainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant willcheat God Himself."'
'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly havea poor opinion of Russians.'
'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is hishaving the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is thattwo and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.'
'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at thebright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light ofthe sun, which was not yet high up in the sky.
'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not atemple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.'
At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out tothem from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's _Expectation_ withmuch feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed withhoney sweetness through the air.
'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement.
'It's my father.'
'Your father plays the violoncello?'
'Yes.'
'And how old is your father?'
'Forty-four.'
Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter.
'What are you laughing at?'
'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a _paterfamilias_ in thisout-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!'
Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this timeArkady did not even smile.
Fathers and Children Page 16
