a farthing more than he could help,
that's God's truth!'

'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady.

'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady
Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that
some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son
of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his
greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old
man's voice broke.

Arkady pressed his hand.

'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short
silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the
celebrity you anticipate for him?'

'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be
one of the leading scientific men.'

'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?'

'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.'

'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie.

'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka,
coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries.

Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the
raspberries?'

'Yes.'

'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some
more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?'

'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room.

Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a
visit to your friend; but you were too late, _amice_, and we have
already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea,
mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.'

'What about?'

'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus....

'You mean jaundice?'

'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed
him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him
soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more
decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you
can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come
in to tea.'

Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed
from _Robert le Diable_--

'The rule, the rule we set ourselves,
To live, to live for pleasure!'

'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window.

It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken
whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound