of
the property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere in
anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her
eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began
to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was
apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began
to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are
not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!

CHAPTER XXI

On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met
his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt
round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging
in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his
spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?'

'Capitally,' answered Arkady.

'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for
late turnips. The time has come now--and thank God for it!--when every
one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to
reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean
Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman,
you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant
woman, who complained of looseness--that's how they express it, but in
our language, dysentery--I ... how can I express it best? I
administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an
anaesthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do
_gratis_--_anamatyer_ (_en amateur_). I'm used to it, though; you see,
I'm a plebeian, _homo novus_--not one of the old stock, not like my
spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to
breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?'

Arkady went out to him.

'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a
military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I
know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones
of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage
roof.'

'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great
ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.'

'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite
simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the
world too--I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a