and still more—though this he did not admit to himself—to punish her. “I
must inform her of my conclusion, that thinking over the terrible position in
which she has placed her family, all other solutions will be worse for both
sides than an external status quo, and that such I agree to retain, on the strict
condition of obedience on her part to my wishes, that is to say, cessation of
all intercourse with her lover.” When this decision had been finally adopted,
another weighty consideration occurred to Alexey Alexandrovitch in
support of it. “By such a course only shall I be acting in accordance with
the dictates of religion,” he told himself. “In adopting this course, I am not
casting off a guilty wife, but giving her a chance of amendment; and,
indeed, difficult as the task will be to me, I shall devote part of my energies
to her reformation and salvation.”
Though Alexey Alexandrovitch was perfectly aware that he could not
exert any moral influence over his wife, that such an attempt at reformation
could lead to nothing but falsity; though in passing through these difficult
moments he had not once thought of seeking guidance in religion, yet now,
when his conclusion corresponded, as it seemed to him, with the
requirements of religion, this religious sanction to his decision gave him
complete satisfaction, and to some extent restored his peace of mind. He
was pleased to think that, even in such an important crisis in life, no one
would be able to say that he had not acted in accordance with the principles
of that religion whose banner he had always held aloft amid the general
coolness and indifference. As he pondered over subsequent developments,
Alexey Alexandrovitch did not see, indeed, why his relations with his wife
should not remain practically the same as before. No doubt, she could never
regain his esteem, but there was not, and there could not be, any sort of
reason that his existence should be troubled, and that he should suffer
because she was a bad and faithless wife. “Yes, time will pass; time, which
arranges all things, and the old relations will be reestablished,” Alexey
Alexandrovitch told himself; “so far reestablished, that is, that I shall not be
sensible of a break in the continuity of my life. She is bound to be unhappy,
but I am not to blame, and so I cannot be unhappy.”
Chapter 14
As he neared Petersburg, Alexey Alexandrovitch not only adhered
entirely to his decision, but was even composing in his head the letter he
would write to his wife. Going into the porter’s room, Alexey
Alexandrovitch glanced at the letters and papers brought from his office,
and directed that they should be brought to him in his study.
“The horses can be taken out and I will see no one,” he said in answer to
the porter, with a certain pleasure, indicative of his agreeable frame of
mind, emphasizing the words, “see no one.”
In his study Alexey Alexandrovitch walked up and down twice, and
stopped at an immense writing-table, on which six candles had already been
lighted by the valet who had preceded him. He cracked his knuckles and sat
down, sorting out his writing appurtenances. Putting his elbows on the
table, he bent his head on one side, thought a minute, and began to write,
without pausing for a second. He wrote without using any form of address
to her, and wrote in French, making use of the plural “vous,” which has not
the same note of coldness as the corresponding Russian form.
“At our last conversation, I notified you of my intention to
communicate to you my decision in regard to the subject of that
conversation. Having carefully considered everything, I am writing
now with the object of fulfilling that promise. My decision is as
follows. Whatever your conduct may have been, I do not consider
myself justified in breaking the ties in which we are bound by a Higher
Power. The family cannot be broken up by a whim, a caprice, or even
by the sin of one of the partners in the marriage, and our life must go
on as it has done in the past. This is essential for me, for you, and for
our son. I am fully persuaded that you have repented and do repent of
what has called forth the present letter, and that you will cooperate
with me in eradicating the cause of our estrangement, and forgetting
the past. In the contrary event, you can conjecture what awaits you and
your son. All this I hope to discuss more in detail in a personal
interview. As the season is drawing to a close, I would beg you to
return to Petersburg as quickly as possible, not later than Tuesday. All
necessary preparations shall be made for your arrival here. I beg you to
note that I attach particular significance to compliance with this
request.
A. Karenin
“P.S.—I enclose the money which may be needed for your
expenses.”
He read the letter through and felt pleased with it, and especially that he
had remembered to enclose money: there was not a harsh word, not a
reproach in it, nor was there undue indulgence. Most of all, it was a golden
bridge for return. Folding the letter and smoothing it with a massive ivory
knife, and putting it in an envelope with the money, he rang the bell with
the gratification it always afforded him to use the well arranged
appointments of his writing-table.
“Give this to the courier to be delivered to Anna Arkadyevna tomorrow at
the summer villa,” he said, getting up.
“Certainly, your excellency; tea to be served in the study?”
Alexey Alexandrovitch ordered tea to be brought to the study, and
playing with the massive paper-knife, he moved to his easy chair, near
which there had been placed ready for him a lamp and the French work on
Egyptian hieroglyphics that he had begun. Over the easy chair there hung in
a gold frame an oval portrait of Anna, a fine painting by a celebrated artist.
Alexey Alexandrovitch glanced at it. The unfathomable eyes gazed
ironically and insolently at him. Insufferably insolent and challenging was
the effect in Alexey Alexandrovitch’s eyes of the black lace about the head,
admirably touched in by the painter, the black hair and handsome white
hand with one finger lifted, covered with rings. After looking at the portrait
for a minute, Alexey Alexandrovitch shuddered so that his lips quivered and
he uttered the sound “brrr,” and turned away. He made haste to sit down in
his easy chair and opened the book. He tried to read, but he could not revive
the very vivid interest he had felt before in Egyptian hieroglyphics. He
looked at the book and thought of something else. He thought not of his
wife, but of a complication that had arisen in his official life, which at the
time constituted the chief interest of it. He felt that he had penetrated more
deeply than ever before into this intricate affair, and that he had originated a
leading idea—he could say it without self-flattery—calculated to clear up
the whole business, to strengthen him in his official career, to discomfit his
enemies, and thereby to be of the greatest benefit to the government.
Directly the servant had set the tea and left the room, Alexey
Alexandrovitch got up and went to the writing-table. Moving into the
middle of the table a portfolio of papers, with a scarcely perceptible smile
of self-satisfaction, he took a pencil from a rack and plunged into the
perusal of a complex report relating to the present complication. The
complication was of this nature: Alexey Alexandrovitch’s characteristic
quality as a politician, that special individual qualification that every rising
functionary possesses, the qualification that with his unflagging ambition,
his reserve, his honesty, and with his self-confidence had made his career,
was his contempt for red tape, his cutting down of correspondence, his
direct contact, wherever possible, with the living fact, and his economy. It
happened that the famous Commission of the 2nd of June had set on foot an
inquiry into the irrigation of lands in the Zaraisky province, which fell
under Alexey Alexandrovitch’s department, and was a glaring example of
fruitless expenditure and paper reforms. Alexey Alexandrovitch was aware
of the truth of this. The irrigation of these lands in the Zaraisky province
had been initiated by the predecessor of Alexey Alexandrovitch’s
predecessor. And vast sums of money had actually been spent and were still
being spent on this business, and utterly unproductively, and the whole
business could obviously lead to nothing whatever. Alexey Alexandrovitch
had perceived this at once on entering office, and would have liked to lay
hands on the Board of Irrigation. But at first, when he did not yet feel
secure in his position, he knew it would affect too many interests, and
would be injudicious. Later on he had been engrossed in other questions,
and had simply forgotten the Board of Irrigation. It went of itself, like all
such boards, by the mere force of inertia. (Many people gained their
livelihood by the Board of Irrigation, especially one highly conscientious
and musical family: all the daughters played on stringed instruments, and
Alexey Alexandrovitch knew the family and had stood godfather to one of
the elder daughters.) The raising of this question by a hostile department
was in Alexey Alexandrovitch’s opinion a dishonorable proceeding, seeing
that in every department there were things similar and worse, which no one
inquired into, for well-known reasons of official etiquette. However, now
that the glove had been thrown down to him, he had boldly picked it up and
demanded the appointment of a special commission to investigate and
verify the working of the Board of Irrigation of the lands in the Zaraisky
province. But in compensation he gave no quarter to the enemy either. He
demanded the appointment of another special commission to inquire into
the question of the Native Tribes Organization Committee. The question of
the Native Tribes had been brought up incidentally in the Commission of
