nowing what to say, she asked him whether he intended to remain long in
the country.

'All the summer and autumn, and perhaps the winter too. I am a very poor
man, you know; my affairs are in confusion, and, besides, I am tired now
of wandering from place to place. The time has come to rest.'

Natalya was surprised.

'Is it possible you feel that it is time for you to rest?' she asked him
timidly.

Rudin turned so as to face Natalya.

'What do you mean by that?'

'I mean,' she replied in some embarrassment, 'that others may rest; but
you... you ought to work, to try to be useful. Who, if not you----'

'I thank you for your flattering opinion,' Rudin interrupted her. 'To be
useful... it is easy to say!' (He passed his hand over his face.) 'To be
useful!' he repeated. 'Even if I had any firm conviction, how could I
be useful?--even if I had faith in my own powers, where is one to find
true, sympathetic souls?'

And Rudin waved his hand so hopelessly, and let his head sink so
gloomily, that Natalya involuntarily asked herself, were those really
his--those enthusiastic words full of the breath of hope, she had heard
the evening before.

'But no,' he said, suddenly tossing back his lion-like mane, 'that is
all folly, and you are right. I thank you, Natalya Alexyevna, I thank
you truly.' (Natalya absolutely did not know what he was thanking her
for.) 'Your single phrase has recalled to me my duty, has pointed out
to me my path.... Yes, I must act. I must not bury my talent, if I have
any; I must not squander my powers on talk alone--empty, profitless
talk--on mere words,' and his words flowed in a stream. He spoke nobly,
ardently, convincingly, of the sin of cowardice and indolence, of the
necessity of action. He lavished reproaches on himself, maintained that
to discuss beforehand what you mean to do is as unwise as to prick with
a pin the swelling fruit, that it is only a vain waste of strength
and sap. He declared that there was no noble idea which would not gain
sympathy, that the only people who remained misunderstood were those who
either did not know themselves what they wanted, or were not worthy
to be understood. He spoke at length, and ended by once more thanking
Natalya Alexyevna, and utterly unexpectedly pressed her hand,
exclaiming. 'You are a noble, generous creature!'

This outburst horrified Mlle, Boncourt, who in spite of her forty years'
residence in Russia understood Russian with difficulty, and