and conducted all his business with
them through his manager. He was boiling with rage while listening
to Solomin's slow, impartial speech, but he held his peace; only the
working of the muscles of his face betrayed what was passing within him.

"But allow me, Vassily Fedotitch," Sipiagin began; "what you have just
said may have been quite true in former days, when the nobility had
quite different privileges and were altogether in a different position;
but now, after all the beneficial reforms in our present industrial
age, why should not the nobility turn their attention and bring their
abilities into enterprises of this nature? Why shouldn't they be able to
understand what is understood by a simple illiterate merchant? They are
not suffering from lack of education and one might even claim, without
any exaggeration, that they are, in a certain sense, the representatives
of enlightenment and progress."

Boris Andraevitch spoke very well; his eloquence would have made a great
stir in St. Petersburg, in his department, or maybe in higher quarters,
but it produced no effect whatever on Solomin.

"The nobility cannot manage these things," Solomin repeated.

"But why, I should like to know? Why?" Kollomietzev almost shouted.

"Because there is too much of the bureaucrat about them."

"Bureaucrat?" Kollomietzev laughed maliciously. "I don't think you quite
realise what you're saying, Mr. Solomin."

Solomin continued smiling.

"What makes you think so, Mr. Kolomentzev?" (Kollomietzev shuddered at
hearing his name thus mutilated.) "I assure you that I always realise
what I am saying."

"Then please explain what you meant just now!"

"With pleasure. I think that every bureaucrat is an outsider and was
always such. The nobility have now become 'outsiders.'"

Kollomietzev laughed louder than ever.

"But, my dear sir, I really don't understand what you mean!"

"So much the worse for you. Perhaps you will if you try hard enough."

"Sir!

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Sipiagin interposed hastily, trying to catch
someone's eye, "please, please... Kallomeitzeff, je vous prie de vous
calmer. I suppose dinner will soon be ready. Come along, gentlemen!"

"Valentina Mihailovna!" Kollomietzev cried out five minutes later,
rushing into her boudoir. "I really don't know what your husband is
doing! He has brought us one nihilist and now he's bringing us another!
Only this one is much worse!"

"But why?"

"He is advocating the