he carried away with him of that evening was the smiling, happy face of
Kitty answering Vronsky’s inquiry about the ball.
Chapter 15
At the end of the evening Kitty told her mother of her conversation with
Levin, and in spite of all the pity she felt for Levin, she was glad at the
thought that she had received an offer. She had no doubt that she had acted
rightly. But after she had gone to bed, for a long while she could not sleep.
One impression pursued her relentlessly. It was Levin’s face, with his
scowling brows, and his kind eyes looking out in dark dejection below
them, as he stood listening to her father, and glancing at her and at Vronsky.
And she felt so sorry for him that tears came into her eyes. But immediately
she thought of the man for whom she had given him up. She vividly
recalled his manly, resolute face, his noble self-possession, and the good
nature conspicuous in everything towards everyone. She remembered the
love for her of the man she loved, and once more all was gladness in her
soul, and she lay on the pillow, smiling with happiness. “I’m sorry, I’m
sorry; but what could I do? It’s not my fault,” she said to herself; but an
inner voice told her something else. Whether she felt remorse at having won
Levin’s love, or at having refused him, she did not know. But her happiness
was poisoned by doubts. “Lord, have pity on us; Lord, have pity on us;
Lord, have pity on us!” she repeated to herself, till she fell asleep.
Meanwhile there took place below, in the prince’s little library, one of the
scenes so often repeated between the parents on account of their favorite
daughter.
“What? I’ll tell you what!” shouted the prince, waving his arms, and at
once wrapping his squirrel-lined dressing-gown round him again. “That
you’ve no pride, no dignity; that you’re disgracing, ruining your daughter
by this vulgar, stupid matchmaking!”
“But, really, for mercy’s sake, prince, what have I done?” said the
princess, almost crying.
She, pleased and happy after her conversation with her daughter, had
gone to the prince to say good-night as usual, and though she had no
intention of telling him of Levin’s offer and Kitty’s refusal, still she hinted
to her husband that she fancied things were practically settled with Vronsky,
and that he would declare himself so soon as his mother arrived. And
thereupon, at those words, the prince had all at once flown into a passion,
and began to use unseemly language.
“What have you done? I’ll tell you what. First of all, you’re trying to
catch an eligible gentleman, and all Moscow will be talking of it, and with
good reason. If you have evening parties, invite everyone, don’t pick out the
possible suitors. Invite all the young bucks. Engage a piano player, and let
them dance, and not as you do things nowadays, hunting up good matches.
It makes me sick, sick to see it, and you’ve gone on till you’ve turned the
poor wench’s head. Levin’s a thousand times the better man. As for this
little Petersburg swell, they’re turned out by machinery, all on one pattern,
and all precious rubbish. But if he were a prince of the blood, my daughter
need not run after anyone.”
“But what have I done?”
“Why, you’ve….” The prince was crying wrathfully.
“I know if one were to listen to you,” interrupted the princess, “we
should never marry our daughter. If it’s to be so, we’d better go into the
country.”
“Well, and we had better.”
“But do wait a minute. Do I try and catch them? I don’t try to catch them
in the least. A young man, and a very nice one, has fallen in love with her,
and she, I fancy….”
“Oh, yes, you fancy! And how if she really is in love, and he’s no more
thinking of marriage than I am!… Oh, that I should live to see it! Ah!
spiritualism! Ah! Nice! Ah! the ball!” And the prince, imagining that he was
mimicking his wife, made a mincing curtsey at each word. “And this is how
we’re preparing wretchedness for Kitty; and she’s really got the notion into
her head….”
“But what makes you suppose so?”
“I don’t suppose; I know. We have eyes for such things, though women-
folk haven’t. I see a man who has serious intentions, that’s Levin: and I see
a peacock, like this feather-head, who’s only amusing himself.”
“Oh, well, when once you get an idea into your head!…”
