hand.”
“Which didn’t it bite with?” he said, laughing.
“Both. But it should have been like this….”
“There are some peasants coming….”
“Oh, they didn’t see.”
Chapter 6
During the time of the children’s tea the grown-up people sat in the
balcony and talked as though nothing had happened, though they all,
especially Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka, were very well aware that there
had happened an event which, though negative, was of very great
importance. They both had the same feeling, rather like that of a schoolboy
after an examination, which has left him in the same class or shut him out
of the school forever. Everyone present, feeling too that something had
happened, talked eagerly about extraneous subjects. Levin and Kitty were
particularly happy and conscious of their love that evening. And their
happiness in their love seemed to imply a disagreeable slur on those who
would have liked to feel the same and could not—and they felt a prick of
conscience.
“Mark my words, Alexander will not come,” said the old princess.
That evening they were expecting Stepan Arkadyevitch to come down by
train, and the old prince had written that possibly he might come too.
“And I know why,” the princess went on; “he says that young people
ought to be left alone for a while at first.”
“But papa has left us alone. We’ve never seen him,” said Kitty. “Besides,
we’re not young people!—we’re old, married people by now.”
“Only if he doesn’t come, I shall say good-bye to you children,” said the
princess, sighing mournfully.
“What nonsense, mamma!” both the daughters fell upon her at once.
“How do you suppose he is feeling? Why, now….”
And suddenly there was an unexpected quiver in the princess’s voice.
Her daughters were silent, and looked at one another. “Maman always finds
something to be miserable about,” they said in that glance. They did not
know that happy as the princess was in her daughter’s house, and useful as
she felt herself to be there, she had been extremely miserable, both on her
own account and her husband’s, ever since they had married their last and
favorite daughter, and the old home had been left empty.
“What is it, Agafea Mihalovna?” Kitty asked suddenly of Agafea
Mihalovna, who was standing with a mysterious air, and a face full of
meaning.
“About supper.”
“Well, that’s right,” said Dolly; “you go and arrange about it, and I’ll go
and hear Grisha repeat his lesson, or else he will have nothing done all
day.”
“That’s my lesson! No, Dolly, I’m going,” said Levin, jumping up.
Grisha, who was by now at a high school, had to go over the lessons of
the term in the summer holidays. Darya Alexandrovna, who had been
studying Latin with her son in Moscow before, had made it a rule on
coming to the Levins’ to go over with him, at least once a day, the most
difficult lessons of Latin and arithmetic. Levin had offered to take her place,
but the mother, having once overheard Levin’s lesson, and noticing that it
was not given exactly as the teacher in Moscow had given it, said
resolutely, though with much embarrassment and anxiety not to mortify
Levin, that they must keep strictly to the book as the teacher had done, and
that she had better undertake it again herself. Levin was amazed both at
Stepan Arkadyevitch, who, by neglecting his duty, threw upon the mother
the supervision of studies of which she had no comprehension, and at the
teachers for teaching the children so badly. But he promised his sister-in-
law to give the lessons exactly as she wished. And he went on teaching
Grisha, not in his own way, but by the book, and so took little interest in it,
and often forgot the hour of the lesson. So it had been today.
“No, I’m going, Dolly, you sit still,” he said. “We’ll do it all properly,
like the book. Only when Stiva comes, and we go out shooting, then we
shall have to miss it.”
And Levin went to Grisha.
Varenka was saying the same thing to Kitty. Even in the happy, well-
ordered household of the Levins Varenka had succeeded in making herself
useful.
“I’ll see to the supper, you sit still,” she said, and got up to go to Agafea
Mihalovna.
“Yes, yes, most likely they’ve not been able to get chickens. If so,
ours….”
“Agafea Mihalovna and I will see about it,” and Varenka vanished with
her.
“What a nice girl!” said the princess.
“Not nice, maman; she’s an exquisite girl; there’s no one else like her.”
“So you are expecting Stepan Arkadyevitch today?” said Sergey
Ivanovitch, evidently not disposed to pursue the conversation about
Varenka. “It would be difficult to find two sons-in-law more unlike than
yours,” he said with a subtle smile. “One all movement, only living in
society, like a fish in water; the other our Kostya, lively, alert, quick in
everything, but as soon as he is in society, he either sinks into apathy, or
struggles helplessly like a fish on land.”
“Yes, he’s very heedless,” said the princess, addressing Sergey
Ivanovitch. “I’ve been meaning, indeed, to ask you to tell him that it’s out
of the question for her” (she indicated Kitty) “to stay here; that she
positively must come to Moscow. He talks of getting a doctor down….”
“Maman, he’ll do everything; he has agreed to everything,” Kitty said,
angry with her mother for appealing to Sergey Ivanovitch to judge in such a
matter.
In the middle of their conversation they heard the snorting of horses and
the sound of wheels on the gravel. Dolly had not time to get up to go and
meet her husband, when from the window of the room below, where Grisha
was having his lesson, Levin leaped out and helped Grisha out after him.
“It’s Stiva!” Levin shouted from under the balcony. “We’ve finished,
Dolly, don’t be afraid!” he added, and started running like a boy to meet the
carriage.
“Is ea id, ejus, ejus, ejus!” shouted Grisha, skipping along the avenue.
“And someone else too! Papa, of course!” cried Levin, stopping at the
entrance of the avenue. “Kitty, don’t come down the steep staircase, go
round.”
But Levin had been mistaken in taking the person sitting in the carriage
for the old prince. As he got nearer to the carriage he saw beside Stepan
Arkadyevitch not the prince but a handsome, stout young man in a Scotch
cap, with long ends of ribbon behind. This was Vassenka Veslovsky, a
distant cousin of the Shtcherbatskys, a brilliant young gentleman in
Petersburg and Moscow society. “A capital fellow, and a keen sportsman,”
as Stepan Arkadyevitch said, introducing him.
Not a whit abashed by the disappointment caused by his having come in
place of the old prince, Veslovsky greeted Levin gaily, claiming
acquaintance with him in the past, and snatching up Grisha into the
carriage, lifted him over the pointer that Stepan Arkadyevitch had brought
with him.
Levin did not get into the carriage, but walked behind. He was rather
vexed at the non-arrival of the old prince, whom he liked more and more
the more he saw of him, and also at the arrival of this Vassenka Veslovsky, a
quite uncongenial and superfluous person. He seemed to him still more
uncongenial and superfluous when, on approaching the steps where the
whole party, children and grown-up, were gathered together in much
excitement, Levin saw Vassenka Veslovsky, with a particularly warm and
gallant air, kissing Kitty’s hand.
“Your wife and I are cousins and very old friends,” said Vassenka
Veslovsky, once more shaking Levin’s hand with great warmth.
“Well, are there plenty of birds?” Stepan Arkadyevitch said to Levin,
hardly leaving time for everyone to utter their greetings. “We’ve come with
the most savage intentions. Why, maman, they’ve not been in Moscow
since! Look, Tanya, here’s something for you! Get it, please, it’s in the
carriage, behind!” he talked in all directions. “How pretty you’ve grown,
Dolly,” he said to his wife, once more kissing her hand, holding it in one of
his, and patting it with the other.
Levin, who a minute before had been in the happiest frame of mind, now
looked darkly at everyone, and everything displeased him.
“Who was it he kissed yesterday with those lips?” he thought, looking at
Stepan Arkadyevitch’s tender demonstrations to his wife. He looked at
Dolly, and he did not like her either.
“She doesn’t believe in his love. So what is she so pleased about?
Revolting!” thought Levin.
