of the district, and he’s a very good sort of a man, but he wants to get
something out of Alexey. You understand, with his property, now that we
are settled in the country, Alexey can exercise great influence. Then there’s
Tushkevitch—you have seen him, you know—Betsy’s admirer. Now he’s
been thrown over and he’s come to see us. As Alexey says, he’s one of those
people who are very pleasant if one accepts them for what they try to
appear to be, et puis il est comme il faut, as Princess Varvara says. Then
Veslovsky … you know him. A very nice boy,” she said, and a sly smile
curved her lips. “What’s this wild story about him and the Levins?
Veslovsky told Alexey about it, and we don’t believe it. Il est très gentil et
naïf,” she said again with the same smile. “Men need occupation, and
Alexey needs a circle, so I value all these people. We have to have the
house lively and gay, so that Alexey may not long for any novelty. Then
you’ll see the steward—a German, a very good fellow, and he understands
his work. Alexey has a very high opinion of him. Then the doctor, a young
man, not quite a Nihilist perhaps, but you know, eats with his knife … but a
very good doctor. Then the architect…. Une petite cour!”
Chapter 20
“Here’s Dolly for you, princess, you were so anxious to see her,” said
Anna, coming out with Darya Alexandrovna onto the stone terrace where
Princess Varvara was sitting in the shade at an embroidery frame, working
at a cover for Count Alexey Kirillovitch’s easy chair. “She says she doesn’t
want anything before dinner, but please order some lunch for her, and I’ll
go and look for Alexey and bring them all in.”
Princess Varvara gave Dolly a cordial and rather patronizing reception,
and began at once explaining to her that she was living with Anna because
she had always cared more for her than her sister Katerina Pavlovna, the
aunt that had brought Anna up, and that now, when everyone had
abandoned Anna, she thought it her duty to help her in this most difficult
period of transition.
“Her husband will give her a divorce, and then I shall go back to my
solitude; but now I can be of use, and I am doing my duty, however difficult
it may be for me—not like some other people. And how sweet it is of you,
how right of you to have come! They live like the best of married couples;
it’s for God to judge them, not for us. And didn’t Biryuzovsky and Madame
Avenieva … and Sam Nikandrov, and Vassiliev and Madame Mamonova,
and Liza Neptunova…. Did no one say anything about them? And it has
ended by their being received by everyone. And then, c’est un intérieur si
joli, si comme il faut. Tout-à-fait à l’anglaise. On se réunit le matin au
breakfast, et puis on se sépare. Everyone does as he pleases till dinner time.
Dinner at seven o’clock. Stiva did very rightly to send you. He needs their
support. You know that through his mother and brother he can do anything.
And then they do so much good. He didn’t tell you about his hospital? Ce
sera admirable—everything from Paris.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Anna, who had found the men of
the party in the billiard room, and returned with them to the terrace. There
was still a long time before the dinner-hour, it was exquisite weather, and so
several different methods of spending the next two hours were proposed.
There were very many methods of passing the time at Vozdvizhenskoe, and
these were all unlike those in use at Pokrovskoe.
“Une partie de lawn-tennis,” Veslovsky proposed, with his handsome
smile. “We’ll be partners again, Anna Arkadyevna.”
“No, it’s too hot; better stroll about the garden and have a row in the boat,
show Darya Alexandrovna the river banks.” Vronsky proposed.
“I agree to anything,” said Sviazhsky.
“I imagine that what Dolly would like best would be a stroll—wouldn’t
you? And then the boat, perhaps,” said Anna.
So it was decided. Veslovsky and Tushkevitch went off to the bathing
place, promising to get the boat ready and to wait there for them.
They walked along the path in two couples, Anna with Sviazhsky, and
Dolly with Vronsky. Dolly was a little embarrassed and anxious in the new
surroundings in which she found herself. Abstractly, theoretically, she did
not merely justify, she positively approved of Anna’s conduct. As is indeed
not unfrequent with women of unimpeachable virtue, weary of the
monotony of respectable existence, at a distance she not only excused illicit
love, she positively envied it. Besides, she loved Anna with all her heart.
But seeing Anna in actual life among these strangers, with this fashionable
tone that was so new to Darya Alexandrovna, she felt ill at ease. What she
disliked particularly was seeing Princess Varvara ready to overlook
everything for the sake of the comforts she enjoyed.
As a general principle, abstractly, Dolly approved of Anna’s action; but to
see the man for whose sake her action had been taken was disagreeable to
her. Moreover, she had never liked Vronsky. She thought him very proud,
and saw nothing in him of which he could be proud except his wealth. But
against her own will, here in his own house, he overawed her more than
ever, and she could not be at ease with him. She felt with him the same
feeling she had had with the maid about her dressing jacket. Just as with the
maid she had felt not exactly ashamed, but embarrassed at her darns, so she
felt with him not exactly ashamed, but embarrassed at herself.
Dolly was ill at ease, and tried to find a subject of conversation. Even
though she supposed that, through his pride, praise of his house and garden
would be sure to be disagreeable to him, she did all the same tell him how
much she liked his house.
“Yes, it’s a very fine building, and in the good old-fashioned style,” he
said.
“I like so much the court in front of the steps. Was that always so?”
“Oh, no!” he said, and his face beamed with pleasure. “If you could only
have seen that court last spring!”
And he began, at first rather diffidently, but more and more carried away
by the subject as he went on, to draw her attention to the various details of
the decoration of his house and garden. It was evident that, having devoted
a great deal of trouble to improve and beautify his home, Vronsky felt a
need to show off the improvements to a new person, and was genuinely
delighted at Darya Alexandrovna’s praise.
“If you would care to look at the hospital, and are not tired, indeed, it’s
not far. Shall we go?” he said, glancing into her face to convince himself
that she was not bored. “Are you coming, Anna?” he turned to her.
“We will come, won’t we?” she said, addressing Sviazhsky. “Mais il ne
faut pas laisser le pauvre Veslovsky et Tushkevitch se morfondre là dans le
bateau. We must send and tell them.”
“Yes, this is a monument he is setting up here,” said Anna, turning to
Dolly with that sly smile of comprehension with which she had previously
talked about the hospital.
“Oh, it’s a work of real importance!” said Sviazhsky. But to show he was
not trying to ingratiate himself with Vronsky, he promptly added some
slightly critical remarks.
“I wonder, though, count,” he said, “that while you do so much for the
health of the peasants, you take so little interest in the schools.”
“C’est devenu tellement commun les écoles,” said Vronsky. “You
understand it’s not on that account, but it just happens so, my interest has
been diverted elsewhere. This way then to the hospital,” he said to Darya
Alexandrovna, pointing to a turning out of the avenue.
The ladies put up their parasols and turned into the side path. After going
down several turnings, and going through a little gate, Darya Alexandrovna
saw standing on rising ground before her a large pretentious-looking red
building, almost finished. The iron roof, which was not yet painted, shone
with dazzling brightness in the sunshine. Beside the finished building
another had been begun, surrounded by scaffolding. Workmen in aprons,
standing on scaffolds, were laying bricks, pouring mortar out of vats, and
smoothing it with trowels.
“How quickly work gets done with you!” said Sviazhsky. “When I was
here last time the roof was not on.”
“By the autumn it will all be ready. Inside almost everything is done,”
said Anna.
“And what’s this new building?”
“That’s the house for the doctor and the dispensary,” answered Vronsky,
seeing the architect in a short jacket coming towards him; and excusing
himself to the ladies, he went to meet him.
Going round a hole where the workmen were slaking lime, he stood still
with the architect and began talking rather warmly.
“The front is still too low,” he said to Anna, who had asked what was the
matter.
“I said the foundation ought to be raised,” said Anna.
“Yes, of course it would have been much better, Anna Arkadyevna,” said
the architect, “but now it’s too late.”
“Yes, I take a great interest in it,” Anna answered Sviazhsky, who was
expressing his surprise at her knowledge of architecture. “This new building
ought to have been in harmony with the hospital. It was an afterthought, and
was begun without a plan.”
Vronsky, having finished his talk with the architect, joined the ladies, and
led them inside the hospital.
Although they were still at work on the cornices outside and were
painting on the ground floor, upstairs almost all the rooms were finished.
Going up the broad cast-iron staircase to the landing, they walked into the
first large room. The walls were stuccoed to look like marble, the huge
plate-glass windows were already in, only the parquet floor was not yet
finished, and the carpenters, who were planing a block of it, left their work,
taking off the bands that fastened their hair, to greet the gentry.
“This is the reception room,” said Vronsky. “Here there will be a desk,
tables, and benches, and nothing more.”
“This way; let us go in here. Don’t go near the window,” said Anna,
trying the paint to see if it were dry. “Alexey, the paint’s dry already,” she
added.
From the reception room they went into the corridor. Here Vronsky
showed them the mechanism for ventilation on a novel system. Then he
showed them marble baths, and beds with extraordinary springs. Then he
showed them the wards one after another, the storeroom, the linen room,
then the heating stove of a new pattern, then the trolleys, which would make
no noise as they carried everything needed along the corridors, and many
other things. Sviazhsky, as a connoisseur in the latest mechanical
improvements, appreciated everything fully. Dolly simply wondered at all
she had not seen before, and, anxious to understand it all, made minute
inquiries about everything, which gave Vronsky great satisfaction.
“Yes, I imagine that this will be the solitary example of a properly fitted
hospital in Russia,” said Sviazhsky.
“And won’t you have a lying-in ward?” asked Dolly. “That’s so much
needed in the country. I have often….”
In spite of his usual courtesy, Vronsky interrupted her.
“This is not a lying-in home, but a hospital for the sick, and is intended
for all diseases, except infectious complaints,” he said. “Ah! look at this,”
and he rolled up to Darya Alexandrovna an invalid chair that had just been
ordered for the convalescents. “Look.” He sat down in the chair and began
