The merchant, who is a nice, plain, careful, practical, but rather vulgar kind of person, is a millionaire, and, what is more, he is the son of a peasant; he was born in the village, and his father was a serf. He puts the practical situation very clearly before them. The estate is hopelessly overloaded with debt, and unless these debts are paid within six months, the estate will be sold by auction. But there is, he points out, a solution to the matter. “As you already know,” he says to them, “your cherry orchard will be sold to pay your debts. The auction is fixed for the 22nd of August, but do not be alarmed, there is a way out of the difficulty.... This is my plan. Your estate is only 15 miles from the town, the railway is quite close, and if your cherry orchard and the land by the river is cut up into villa holdings, and let for villas, you will get at the least 25,000 roubles (£2500) a year.” To which the brother replies, “What nonsense!” “You will get,” the merchant repeats, “at the very least twenty-five roubles a year a desiatin,”--a desiatin is about two acres and a half: much the same as the French hectare,--“and by the autumn, if you make the announcement now, you will not have a single particle of land left. In a word, I congratulate you; you are saved. The site is splendid, only, of course, it wants several improvements. For instance, all these old buildings must be destroyed, and this house, which is no use at all, the old orchard must be cut down.” _Madame Ranievskaia_: Cut down? My dear friend, forgive me, you do not understand anything at all! If in the whole district there is anything interesting, not to say remarkable, it is this orchard. _Lopachin_: The orchard is remarkable simply on account of its size. _Leonidas_: The orchard is mentioned in the Encyclopædia. _Lopachin_: If we do not think of a way out of the matter and come to some plan, on the 22nd of August the cherry orchard and the whole property will be sold by auction. Make up your minds; there is no other way out, I promise you. But it is no good his saying anything. They merely reply, “What nonsense!” They regard the matter of splitting up their old home into villas as a sheer impossibility. And this is the whole subject of the play. The merchant continues during the second act to insist on the only practical solution of their difficulties, and they likewise persist in saying this solution is madness, that it is absolutely impossible. They cannot bring themselves to think of their old home being turned into a collection of villas; they keep on saying that something will turn up, an old aunt will die and leave them a legacy, or something of that kind will happen.