“Yes, I was present, but left with disgust,” Nekhludoff said angrily, vexed at Selenin’s leading away from the conversation.

“Why should you be disgusted?  At all events it is a manifestation of religious feeling, although one-sided and sectarian,” said Selenin.

“It is such strange nonsense,” said Nekhludoff.

“Well, no.  The only strange thing here is that we know so little of the teachings of our church that we receive an exposition of its fundamental dogmas as a new revelation,” said Selenin, as though hastening to tell his former friends his new views.

Nekhludoff gazed at Selenin with wonder.  Selenin did not lower his eyes, in which there was an expression not only of sadness, but of ill-will.

“But we will discuss it later,” said Selenin.  “I am coming,” he turned to the usher who approached him deferentially.  “We must meet again,” he added, sighing; “but you can never be found.  You will always find me at home at seven.  I live on Nadeghinskaia,” and he mentioned the number.  “It is a long time since we met,” he added, again smiling with his lips.

“I will come if I have the time,” said Nekhludoff, feeling that the man whom he had once loved was made strange and incomprehensible to him, if not hostile, by this short conversation.

* * * * *

As student Nekhludoff knew Selenin as a dutiful son, a true friend, and, for his years, an educated, worldly man, with great tact, always elegant and handsome, and uncommonly truthful and honest withal.  He studied diligently, without any difficulty and without the slightest ostentation, receiving gold medals for his compositions.

He had made it the aim of his young life, not merely by word, but in reality, to serve others, and thought he saw his chance of doing so in government service.  Systematically looking over the various activities to which he might devote his energies, he decided that he could be most useful in the legislative department, and entered it.  But notwithstanding his most accurate and conscientious attention to his duties, he found nothing in them to satisfy his desire to be useful.  His discontent, due to the pettiness and vanity of his immediate superiors, grew until an opportunity offered to enter the Senate.  He was better off in the Senate, but the same feeling of dissatisfaction pursued him.  He constantly felt that things were not what he expected them to be, and what they should be.  During his service in the Senate, his relations obtained for him the post of gentleman of the Emperor’s bed-chamber, and he was obliged to drive around in gorgeous uniform to thank various people.  In this post he felt even more than before out of place.  At the same time, on the one hand, he could not refuse the appointment, because he would not disappoint those who thought they were pleasing him by it, and, on the other hand, the appointment flattered his vanity.  It pleased him to see himself in a looking-glass in a gold embroidered uniform, and to receive the tokens of respect shown him by some people on his appointment.