egan Smolin, instructively,
interrupting the old man, "looked at merely from the commercial point
of view, may be a very profitable enterprise. But aside from this, a
newspaper has another more important aim--that is, to protect the right
of the individual and the interests of industry and commerce."

"That's just what I say, if the merchant himself will manage the
newspaper, then it will be useful."

"Excuse me, papa," said Lubov.

She began to feel the need of expressing herself before Smolin; she
wanted to assure him that she understood the meaning of his words, that
she was not an ordinary merchant-daughter, interested in dresses and
balls only. Smolin pleased her. This was the first time she had seen
a merchant who had lived abroad for a long time, who reasoned so
impressively, who bore himself so properly, who was so well dressed,
and who spoke to her father, the cleverest man in town, with the
condescending tone of an adult towards a minor.

"After the wedding I'll persuade him to take me abroad," thought Lubov,
suddenly, and, confused at this thought she forgot what she was about
to say to her father. Blushing deeply, she was silent for a few seconds,
seized with fear lest Smolin might interpret this silence in a way
unflattering to her.

"On account of your conversation, you have forgotten to offer some wine
to our guest," she said at last, after a few seconds of painful silence.

"That's your business. You are hostess," retorted the old man.

"Oh, don't disturb yourself!" exclaimed Smolin, with animation. "I
hardly drink at all."

"Really?" asked Mayakin.

"I assure you! Sometimes I drink a wine glass or two in case of fatigue
or illness. But to drink wine for pleasure's sake is incomprehensible to
me. There are other pleasures more worthy of a man of culture."

"You mean ladies, I suppose?" asked the old man with a wink.

Smolin's cheeks and neck became red with the colour which leaped to his
face. With apologetic eyes he glanced at Lubov, and said to her father
drily:

"I mean the theatre, books, music."

Lubov became radiant with joy at his words.

The old man looked askance at the worthy young man, smiled keenly and
suddenly blurted out:

"Eh, life is going onward! Formerly the dog used to relish a crust, now
the pug dog finds the cream too thin; pardon me for my sour remark, but
it is very much to the point. It does not exactly refer to yourself, but
in general."

Lubov turned pale an