posed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him.

'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man,
turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take
your coach, so it will be even more convenient.'

'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my
place.'

'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business
in that direction.'

'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously.

But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh
as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he
muttered; 'and there will be room for all.'

'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna.

Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly.

The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov,
Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet
again, shan't we?'

'As you command,' answered Bazarov.

'In that case, we shall.'

Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's
carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have
killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears.

Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady
waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the
horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to
Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.'

'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth.

Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his
carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these
words; while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage,
took his seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former
fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was
soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his
coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the
off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two
passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town,
where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's,
he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.'

When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand
warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though
Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pre