lly keep every one at a distance?'

Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya.

'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position--I
mean in your circumstances--don't often have that faculty; it is hard
for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.'

'But, you see, I am not rich.'

Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of
course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the
thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he
commented.

'What?'

'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of
it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a
kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says
he is poor.'

'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I
only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.'

'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just
now.'

'For instance?'

'For instance, you--forgive the question--you wouldn't marry a rich
man, I fancy, would you?'

'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry
him.'

'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And
why wouldn't you marry him?'

'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.'

'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...'

'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only
inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can
understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've
had enough of that as it is.'

'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he
went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just
as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you
wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however
strong and holy it might be ...'

'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya.

'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than
she.'

'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly;
'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's
beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch,
ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.'

'What do you mean by "you in particular"--and what makes you suppose I
am joking?'

'Of course, you are joking.'

'Y