Stepan Arkadyevich's affairs were in a very bad way.

The money for two-thirds of the forest had all been spent already, and he had borrowed from the merchant in advance at ten per cent discount almost all the remaining third. The merchant would not give more, especially as Darya Alexandrovna, for the first time that winter insisting on her right to her own property, had refused to sign the receipt for the payment of the last third of the forest. All his salary went on household expenses and in payment of petty debts that could not be put off. There was positively no money.

This was unpleasant and awkward, and in Stepan Arkadyevich's opinion things could not go on like this. The explanation of the position was, in his view, to be found in the fact that his salary was too small. The post he filled had been unmistakably very good five years ago, but it was so no longer. Petrov, the bank director, had twelve thousand; Sventitsky, a company director, had seventeen thousand; Mitin, who had founded a bank, received fifty thousand. `Clearly I've been napping, and they've overlooked me,' Stepan Arkadyevich thought about himself. And he began keeping his eyes and ears open, and toward the end of the winter he had discovered a very good berth and had formed a plan of attack upon it, at first from Moscow through aunts, uncles, and friends, and then, when the matter was well advanced, in the spring, he went himself to Peterburg. It was one of those berths (with incomes ranging from one thousand to fifty thousand roubles), of which there are so many more nowadays than there were snug, bribable ones in the past. It was the post of secretary of the committee of the amalgamated agency of the Southern Railways, and of certain banking companies. This position, like all such appointments, called for such immense energy and such varied qualifications, that it was difficult for them to be found united in any one man. And since a man combining all the qualifications was not to be found, it was at least better that the post be filled by an honest than by a dishonest man. And Stepan Arkadyevich was not merely an honest man, unemphatically, in the common acceptation of the word; he was an honest man, emphatically, in that special sense which the word has in Moscow, when they talk of an `honest' politician, an `honest' writer, an `honest' newspaper, an `honest' institution, an `honest' tendency, meaning not simply that the man or the institution is not dishonest, but that they are capable on occasion of stinging the authorities. Stepan Arkadyevich moved in those circles in Moscow in which that expression had come into use, was regarded there as an honest man, and so had more right to this appointment than others.

The appointment yielded an income of from seven to ten thousand a year, and Oblonsky could fill it without giving up his government position. It was in the hands of two ministers, one lady, and two Jews, and all these people, though the way had been paved already with them, Stepan Arkadyevich had to see in Peterburg. Besides this business, Stepan Arkadyevich had promised his sister Anna to obtain from Karenin a definite answer on the question of divorce. And begging fifty roubles from Dolly, he set off for Peterburg.

Stepan Arkadyevich sat in Karenin's study listening to his report on the causes of the unsatisfactory position of Russian finance, and only waiting for the moment when he would finish to speak about his own business or about Anna.

`Yes, that's very true,' he said, when Alexei Alexandrovich took off the pince-nez, without which he could not read now, and looked inquiringly at his quondam brother-in-law, `that's very true in particular cases, but still, the principle of our day is freedom.'

`Yes, but I lay down another principle, embracing the principle of freedom,' said Alexei Alexandrovich, with emphasis on the word `embracing', and he put on his pince-nez again, so as to read the passage in which this statement was made.

And turning over the beautifully written, wide-margined manuscript, Alexei Alexandrovich read aloud the conclusive passage once more.

`I don't advocate protection for the sake of private interest, but for the public weal - and for the lower and upper classes equally,' he said, looking over his pince-nez at Oblonsky. `But they cannot grasp that, they are taken up now with personal interests, and carried away by phrases.'

Stepan Arkadyevich knew that when Karenin began to talk of what they were doing and thinking, the persons who would not accept his report and were the cause of everything wrong in Russia, that it was coming near the end. And so now he eagerly abandoned the principle of free trade, and fully agreed. Alexei Alexandrovich paused, thoughtfully turning over the pages of his manuscript.

`Oh, by the way,' said Stepan Arkadyevich, `I wanted to ask you, some time when you see Pomorsky, to drop him a hint that I should be very glad to get that new appointment of member of the committee of the amalgamated agency of the Southern Railways and banking companies.' Stepan Arkadyevich was familiar by now with the title of the post he coveted, and he brought it out rapidly without mistake.

Alexei Alexandrovich questioned him as to the duties of this new committee, and pondered. He was considering whether the new committee would not be acting in some way contrary to the views he had been advocating. But as the influence of the new committee was of a very complex nature, and his views were of very wide application, he could not decide this straight off, and taking off his pince-nez, he said:

`Of course, I can mention it to him; but what is your reason precisely for wishing to obtain the appointment?'

`It's a good salary, rising to nine thousand, and my means...'

`Nine thousand!' repeated Alexei Alexandrovich, and he frowned.

The high figure of the salary made him reflect that on that side Stepan Arkadyevich's proposed position ran counter to the main tendency of his own projects of reform, which always leaned toward economy.

`I consider, and I have embodied my views in a note on the subject, that in our day these immense salaries are evidence of the unsound economic assiette of our finances.'

`But what's to be done?' said Stepan Arkadyevich. `Suppose a bank director gets ten thousand - well, he's worth it; or an engineer gets twenty thousand - after all, it's a growing thing, you know!'

`I assume that a salary is the price paid for a commodity, and it ought to conform with the law of supply and demand. If the salary is fixed without any regard for that law, as, for instance, when I see two engineers leaving college together, both equally well trained and efficient, and one getting forty thousand while the other is satisfied with two; or when I see lawyers and hussars, having no special qualifications, appointed directors of banking companies with immense salaries, I conclude that the salary is not fixed in accordance with the law of supply and demand, but simply through personal interest. And this is an abuse of great gravity in itself, and one that reacts injuriously on the government service. I consider...'

Stepan Arkadyevich made haste to interrupt his brother-in-law.

`Yes; but you must agree that the new institution being started is of undoubted utility. After all, you know, it's a growing thing! What they lay particular stress on is the thing being carried on honestly,' said Stepan Arkadyevich with emphasis.

But the Moscow significance of the word honest was lost on Alexei Alexandrovich.

`Honesty is only a negative qualification,' he said.

`Well, you'll do me a great service, anyway,' said Stepan Arkadyevich, `by putting in a word to Pomorsky - just in the way of conversation...'

`But I fancy it depends more on Bolgarinov,' said Alexei Alexandrovich.

`Bolgarinov has fully assented, as far as he's concerned,' said Stepan Arkadyevich, turning red. Stepan Arkadyevich reddened at the mention of that name, because he had been that morning at the Jew Bolgarinov's, and the visit had left an unpleasant recollection.

Stepan Arkadyevich believed most positively that the committee in which he was trying to get an appointment was a new, genuine, and honest public body, but that morning when Bolgarinov had - intentionally, beyond a doubt - kept him two hours waiting with other petitioners in his waiting room, he had suddenly felt uneasy.

Whether he was uncomfortable because he, a descendant of Rurik, Prince Oblonsky, had been kept for two hours waiting to see a Jew, or that for the first time in his fife he was not following the example of his ancestors in serving the government, but was turning off into a new career - at any rate he was very uncomfortable. During those two hours in Bolgarinov's waiting room Stepan Arkadyevich, stepping jauntily about the room, pulling his side whiskers, entering into conversation with the other petitioners, and inventing a calembour dealing with his wait in the Jew's anteroom, assiduously concealed from others, and even from himself, the feeling he was experiencing.

But all the time he was uncomfortable and perturbed, he could not have said why - whether because he could not get his calembour just right, or from some other reason. When at last Bolgarinov had received him with exaggerated politeness and unmistakable triumph at his humiliation, and had all but refused the favor asked of him, Stepan Arkadyevich had made haste to forget it all as soon as possible. And now, at the mere recollection, he blushed.