Uvar Ivanovitch was sitting in an easy chair by the window, breathing heavily; Nikolai Artemyevitch was pacing with long strides up and down the room, his hands thrust into his pockets; his face expressed dissatisfaction. He stood still at last and shook his head. ‘Yes;’ he began, ‘in our day young men were brought up differently. Young men did not permit themselves to be lacking in respect to their elders. And nowadays, I can only look on and wonder. Possibly, I am all wrong, and they are quite right; possibly. But still I have my own views of things; I was not born a fool. What do you think about it, Uvar Ivanovitch?’ Uvar Ivanovitch could only look at him and work his fingers. ‘Elena Nikolaevna, for instance,’ pursued Nikolai Artemyevitch, ‘Elena Nikolaevna I don’t pretend to understand. I am not elevated enough for her. Her heart is so large that it embraces all nature down to the least spider or frog, everything in fact except her own father. Well, that’s all very well; I know it, and I don’t trouble myself about it. For that’s nerves and education and lofty aspirations, and all that is not in my line. But Mr. Shubin... admitting he’s a wonderful artist--quite exceptional--that, I don’t dispute; to show want of respect to his elder, a man to whom, at any rate, one may say he is under great obligation; that I confess, _dans mon gros bon sens_, I cannot pass over. I am not exacting by nature, no, but there is a limit to everything.’ Anna Vassilyevna rang the bell in a tremor. A little page came in. ‘Why is it Pavel Yakovlitch does not come?’ she said, ‘what does it mean; I call him, and he doesn’t come?’ Nikolai Artemyevitch shrugged his shoulders. ‘And what is the object, may I ask, of your wanting to send for him? I don’t expect that at all, I don’t wish it even!’ ‘What’s the object, Nikolai Artemyevitch? He has disturbed you; very likely he has checked the progress of your cure. I want to have an explanation with him. I want to know how he has dared to annoy you.’ ‘I tell you again, that I do not ask that. And what can induce you ... _devant les domestiques_!’ Anna Vassilyevna flushed a little. ‘You need not say that, Nikolai Artemyevitch. I never... _devant les domestiques_... Fedushka, go and see you bring Pavel Yakovlitch here at once.’ The little page went off. ‘And that’s absolutely unnecessary,’ muttered Nikolai Artemyevitch between his teeth, and he began again pacing up and down the room. ‘I did not bring up the subject with that object.’ ‘Good Heavens, Paul must apologise to you.’ ‘Good Heavens, what are his apologies to me? And what do you mean by apologies? That’s all words.’ ‘Why, he must be corrected.’ ‘Well, you can correct him yourself. He will listen to you sooner than to me. For my part I bear him no grudge.’ ‘No, Nikolai Artemyevitch, you’ve not been yourself ever since you arrived. You have even to my eyes grown thinner lately. I am afraid your treatment is doing you no good.’