Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Four/Chapter 15

by Leo Tolstoy

 

CHAPTER XV

The streets were still deserted. Levin walked to the Shcherbatskys' house. The principal entrance was still closed, and every one was asleep.

He returned to the hotel, went to his room, and asked for coffee. The day watchman, and not Yegor, brought it to him. Levin wished to enter into conversation with him; but some one rang for him, and he went out.

Then Levin tried to take his coffee, and put a piece of kalatch into his mouth, but his mouth did not know what to do with the bread! He eschewed it and put on his overcoat, and went out to walk again. It was just ten o'clock when he reached the Shcherbatskys' steps for the second time. They were beginning to get up; the cook was going to market. He would have to wait at least two hours longer.

Levin had passed the whole night and the morning completely oblivious of the material conditions of existence: he had neither eaten nor slept; had been exposed, with almost no clothing, to the cold for several hours; and he not only was fresh and hearty, but he was unconscious of his body; he moved without using his muscles, and felt capable of doing anything. He was persuaded that he could fly through the air or jump over the top of a house if it were necessary. He roamed about the streets to pass away the time, consulting his watch every moment or two, and looking about him.

What he saw that day he never saw again. He was particularly struck by the children on their way to school; the dark blue pigeons flying from the roof to the sidewalk; the saïkas or little cakes powdered with flour that an invisible hand was arranging in a window. These cakes, these pigeons, and two little lads were celestial objects. All this happened at once; one of the little lads ran toward a pigeon, and looked at Levin, smiling; the pigeon flapped its wings, and flew off glittering in the sunlight through a cloud of fine snow; and the smell of hot bread came through the window where the saïkas were displayed. All these things, taken as a whole, produced so lively an impression on Levin that he laughed aloud until the tears came. After going around by the Gazetnaya and Kislovka streets, he went back to the hotel, sat down, placed his watch before him, and waited till the hands pointed to the hour of noon.

In the next room some one was talking about machines and hoaxes, and some one coughed a morning cough. The person did not know that the hour hand was approaching twelve.

The hour pointed to twelve. Levin went to the steps of the hotel. The izvoshchiks evidently knew all about it. With happy faces they surrounded him, with eager emulation offering their services; striving not to offend the others and promising to take them some other time, he made his choice and ordered the man to drive to the Shcherbatskys'. The izvoshchik was charming, with his white shirt-collar above his kaftan surrounding his strong, red neck. He had a comfortable sleigh, more comfortable than ordinary sleighs,—such a sleigh as Levin had never seen before, and the horse was good, and did his best to run, but did not stir from the spot! The izvoshchik knew the Shcherbatsky house; he stopped before the door flourishing his arms, and turned respectfully toward Levin, saying "tprru" to his horse.

The Shcherbatskys' Swiss knew all about it, surely; that was plain from the look in his eyes and the way he said:—

"Well! it is a long time since you have been here, Konstantin Dmitritch."

Not only did he know what had happened, but he was full of delight, and tried to conceal his joy. Levin felt a shade happier when he caught the old man's good-natured eyes.

"Are they up?"

"Please come in. Leave that here," added the Swiss as Levin was turning back to get his cap. That surely had some significance.

"To whom shall I announce you, sir?" asked a jackey.

This lackey, though young, new in the house, and with some pretension to elegance, was very obliging, very attentive, and he, too, seemed to understand the situation.

"To the princess .... I mean the prince .... no, the young princess,"^[1] replied Levin.

The first person whom he met was Mademoiselle Linon. She was passing through the "hall," radiant in her little curls and her shining face. He had hardly spoken to her when the rustling of a dress was heard at the door. Mademoiselle Linon disappeared from before his eyes, and a joyous trepidation at the thought of the happiness so near took possession of him. Mademoiselle Linon hastened away and vanished through another door. She had hardly gone when swift light steps were heard pattering on the inlaid floor, and his happiness, his life, the better part of himself, that which he had yearned for so long, drew near. She did not walk; some invisible power seemed to bring her toward him.

He saw only her bright, truthful eyes, filled with the same timid joy of love that filled his own heart. These eyes, shining nearer and nearer to him, almost blinded him with their light of love.

She stood before him, almost touching him; then she placed her two hands gently on his shoulders.

She did all that she could: she went to him; she gave herself to him, trembling and happy. He folded her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers, expectant of his kiss.

She, too, had not slept at all that night, and she had been waiting for him all the morning.

Her parents were perfectly agreed, and happy in her happiness. She had been on the watch for his coming.

She wanted to be the first to tell him of their happiness. She was prepared to meet him alone, and she was full of joy at the thought, and yet she was shy and confused, and hardly knew what she was going to do. She had heard his steps and voice, and hid herself behind the door to wait till Mademoiselle Linon had gone. Mademoiselle Linon went. Then without any delay, without questioning further, she came to him and did as she did.

"Now, let us find mamma," said she, taking his hand.

For a long time he could not utter a word, not so much because he was afraid of lessening the intensity of his joy by words, but because every time he tried to say anything he felt that instead of words, tears of joy burst forth; his tears choked him. He took her hand, and kissed it.

"Is it really true?" he said at last in a husky voice. "I cannot believe that you love me."

She smiled at the way he used the second person singular, and at the timidity with which he looked at her.

"Yes," she replied, slowly lingering on this word. "I am so happy!"

Without letting go his hand, she went with him into the drawing-room. As soon as the princess saw them, she began to breathe fast and then she burst into tears, and then she laughed, and with an energetic movement which Levin was not prepared for she ran to him, seized his head, and kissed him, bedewing his face with her tears.

"So all is settled? I am delighted. Love her. I am so glad .... for you .... Kitty!"

"It didn't take you long to arrange matters," said the old prince, trying to appear calm; but Levin saw his eyes were full with tears, as he looked at him.

"It is something I have long been anxious for," said the prince, taking Levin's hand and drawing him toward him. "And even when this little giddy-pate thought ...."

"Papa!" cried Kitty, putting her hand over his mouth. "Well, I won't say anything," said he. "I am very .... very .... hap .... Akh! how stupid I am!"

And he took Kitty in his arms, kissed her face, her hands, and then her face again, blessing her with the sign of the cross.

And Levin was filled by a new feeling of affection for the old prince when he saw how tenderly and fervently Kitty kissed his great, strong hand.

 

1. Knyaginya, knyaz' , knyazhna. Knyaginya is the Russian title of a married princess; it also means in popular usage a bride, as knya' means prince and bridegroom; knyazhna is applied to an unmarried princess.