“Eh, we must!”
On reaching home and finding everyone entirely satisfactory and
particularly charming, Darya Alexandrovna began with great liveliness
telling them how she had arrived, how warmly they had received her, of the
luxury and good taste in which the Vronskys lived, and of their recreations,
and she would not allow a word to be said against them.
“One has to know Anna and Vronsky—I have got to know him better
now—to see how nice they are, and how touching,” she said, speaking now
with perfect sincerity, and forgetting the vague feeling of dissatisfaction and
awkwardness she had experienced there.
Chapter 25
Vronsky and Anna spent the whole summer and part of the winter in the
country, living in just the same condition, and still taking no steps to obtain
a divorce. It was an understood thing between them that they should not go
away anywhere; but both felt, the longer they lived alone, especially in the
autumn, without guests in the house, that they could not stand this
existence, and that they would have to alter it.
Their life was apparently such that nothing better could be desired. They
had the fullest abundance of everything; they had a child, and both had
occupation. Anna devoted just as much care to her appearance when they
had no visitors, and she did a great deal of reading, both of novels and of
what serious literature was in fashion. She ordered all the books that were
praised in the foreign papers and reviews she received, and read them with
that concentrated attention which is only given to what is read in seclusion.
Moreover, every subject that was of interest to Vronsky, she studied in
books and special journals, so that he often went straight to her with
questions relating to agriculture or architecture, sometimes even with
questions relating to horse-breeding or sport. He was amazed at her
knowledge, her memory, and at first was disposed to doubt it, to ask for
confirmation of her facts; and she would find what he asked for in some
book, and show it to him.
The building of the hospital, too, interested her. She did not merely assist,
but planned and suggested a great deal herself. But her chief thought was
still of herself—how far she was dear to Vronsky, how far she could make
up to him for all he had given up. Vronsky appreciated this desire not only
to please, but to serve him, which had become the sole aim of her existence,
but at the same time he wearied of the loving snares in which she tried to
hold him fast. As time went on, and he saw himself more and more often
held fast in these snares, he had an ever growing desire, not so much to
escape from them, as to try whether they hindered his freedom. Had it not
been for this growing desire to be free, not to have scenes every time he
wanted to go to the town to a meeting or a race, Vronsky would have been
perfectly satisfied with his life. The rôle he had taken up, the rôle of a
wealthy landowner, one of that class which ought to be the very heart of the
Russian aristocracy, was entirely to his taste; and now, after spending six
months in that character, he derived even greater satisfaction from it. And
his management of his estate, which occupied and absorbed him more and
more, was most successful. In spite of the immense sums cost him by the
hospital, by machinery, by cows ordered from Switzerland, and many other
things, he was convinced that he was not wasting, but increasing his
substance. In all matters affecting income, the sales of timber, wheat, and
wool, the letting of lands, Vronsky was hard as a rock, and knew well how
to keep up prices. In all operations on a large scale on this and his other
estates, he kept to the simplest methods involving no risk, and in trifling
details he was careful and exacting to an extreme degree. In spite of all the
cunning and ingenuity of the German steward, who would try to tempt him
into purchases by making his original estimate always far larger than really
required, and then representing to Vronsky that he might get the thing
cheaper, and so make a profit, Vronsky did not give in. He listened to his
steward, cross-examined him, and only agreed to his suggestions when the
implement to be ordered or constructed was the very newest, not yet known
in Russia, and likely to excite wonder. Apart from such exceptions, he
resolved upon an increased outlay only where there was a surplus, and in
making such an outlay he went into the minutest details, and insisted on
getting the very best for his money; so that by the method on which he
managed his affairs, it was clear that he was not wasting, but increasing his
substance.
In October there were the provincial elections in the Kashinsky province,
where were the estates of Vronsky, Sviazhsky, Koznishev, Oblonsky, and a
small part of Levin’s land.
These elections were attracting public attention from several
circumstances connected with them, and also from the people taking part in
them. There had been a great deal of talk about them, and great preparations
were being made for them. Persons who never attended the elections were
coming from Moscow, from Petersburg, and from abroad to attend these.
Vronsky had long before promised Sviazhsky to go to them. Before the
elections Sviazhsky, who often visited Vozdvizhenskoe, drove over to fetch
Vronsky. On the day before there had been almost a quarrel between
Vronsky and Anna over this proposed expedition. It was the very dullest
autumn weather, which is so dreary in the country, and so, preparing
himself for a struggle, Vronsky, with a hard and cold expression, informed
Anna of his departure as he had never spoken to her before. But, to his
surprise, Anna accepted the information with great composure, and merely
asked when he would be back. He looked intently at her, at a loss to explain
this composure. She smiled at his look. He knew that way she had of
withdrawing into herself, and knew that it only happened when she had
determined upon something without letting him know her plans. He was
afraid of this; but he was so anxious to avoid a scene that he kept up
appearances, and half sincerely believed in what he longed to believe in—
her reasonableness.
“I hope you won’t be dull?”
“I hope not,” said Anna. “I got a box of books yesterday from Gautier’s.
No, I shan’t be dull.”
“She’s trying to take that tone, and so much the better,” he thought, “or
else it would be the same thing over and over again.”
And he set off for the elections without appealing to her for a candid
explanation. It was the first time since the beginning of their intimacy that
he had parted from her without a full explanation. From one point of view
this troubled him, but on the other side he felt that it was better so. “At first
there will be, as this time, something undefined kept back, and then she will
get used to it. In any case I can give up anything for her, but not my
masculine independence,” he thought.
