ve even more of an
elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And
Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet
head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with
deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything
surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your
pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone--all the others smiled,
and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little
sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with
humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a
sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked
confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was
already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his
glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch.

'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began;
'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I
... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it
is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.'

'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.'

'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say,
let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as
quickly as you can!'

Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not
excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which
she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass
which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be
happy, my friends! _Farewell!_' This English finale passed unnoticed;
but all were touched.

'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as
she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in
response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud.

The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care
to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the
present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him.

Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good
sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a
lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and
remarkable fluency--still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They
live in the greatest harmony together, and will live per