I venture to hope that you have not forgotten your old friend?"

"It's all right! You can talk of this later," said the old man, scanning
his daughter with his eyes.

"Lubova, you can make your arrangements here, while we finish our little
conversation. Well then, African Mitrich, explain yourself."

"You will pardon me, Lubov Yakovlevna, won't you?" asked Smolin, gently.

"Pray do not stand upon ceremony," said Lubov. "He's polite and clever,"
she remarked to herself; and, as she walked about in the room from the
table to the sideboard, she began to listen attentively to Smolin's
words. He spoke softly, confidently, with a simplicity, in which was
felt condescendence toward the interlocutor. "Well then, for four years
I have carefully studied the condition of Russian leather in foreign
markets. It's a sad and horrid condition! About thirty years ago our
leather was considered there as the standard, while now the demand for
it is constantly falling off, and, of course, the price goes hand in
hand with it. And that is perfectly natural. Lacking the capital and
knowledge all these small leather producers are not able to raise their
product to the proper standard, and, at the same time, to reduce the
price. Their goods are extremely bad and dear. And they are all to
blame for having spoiled Russia's reputation as manufacturer of the best
leather. In general, the petty producer, lacking the technical knowledge
and capital, is consequently placed in a position where he is unable to
improve his products in proportion to the development of the technical
side. Such a producer is a misfortune for the country, the parasite of
her commerce."

"Hm!" bellowed the old man, looking at his guest with one eye, and
watching his daughter with the other. "So that now your intention is to
build such a great factory that all the others will go to the dogs?"

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Smolin, warding off the old man's words with an easy
wave of the hand. "Why wrong others? What right have I to do so? My aim
is to raise the importance and price of Russian leather abroad, and so
equipped with the knowledge as to the manufacture, I am building a model
factory, and fill the markets with model goods. The commercial honour of
the country!"

"Does it require much capital, did you say?" asked Mayakin,
thoughtfully.

"About three hundred thousand."

"Father won't give me such a dowry," thought Lubov.

"My factory will also turn out leather goods,