Before the splendid bungalow of Nicholas Semyónovitch, with its tower, veranda, little balconies and galleries (everything about it fresh, new, and clean), stood a troika-calèche with three horses, that had brought a Petersburg gentleman from the town six miles off.

This gentleman⁠—a well-known and active Liberal member of every Committee⁠—was on every Council, and signed every petition and every address⁠—cunningly framed to appear faithfully loyal, but really very radical. He had come from the town (in which, as an extremely busy man, he was staying only twenty-four hours) to see the old friend and playmate of his childhood, who was almost his adherent.

They disagreed only on the best way of putting their Constitutional principles into practice; and as to that but slightly. The Petersburger was more of a European⁠—even with a slight leaning towards Socialism⁠—and in receipt of a very large salary from the different posts he occupied. Nicholas Semyónovitch, on the other hand, was a pure Russian, Orthodox, a bit of a Slavophil, and the owner of many thousands of acres.