Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Six/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX
Darya Aleksandrovna, when left alone, examined her chamber with the eyes of a genuine housekeeper. All that she saw as she went through the house, and all that she saw in the room, impressed her by its richness and elegance; and this new European luxury, which she had read about in English novels, she had never seen before in Russia,—certainly not in the country. All was new, from the French tapestries to the carpet which covered the whole room, the bed with its hair mattress, the marble toilet-table, the bronzes on the mantel, the rugs, the curtains,—all was costly and new.
The smart waiting-maid who came to offer her services was dressed with much more style than Dolly, and was as costly and new as the whole room. Darya Aleksandrovna liked her good breeding, her dexterity, and her helpfulness; but she felt confused at taking out before her her poor toilet articles from her bag, especially a mended night-dress, which she had happened to put in by mistake from among her oldest ones. She was ashamed of the very patches and mended places which gave her a sense of pride at home. It was clear that for six nightgowns, it would take twenty-four arshins of nainsook at sixty-five kopeks, amounting to more than fifteen rubles, besides the cost of the trimmings; and these fifteen rubles were saved; but in the presence of this brilliant attendant she felt not so much ashamed as awkward.
Darya Aleksandrovna felt great relief when her old-time acquaintance, Annushka, came into her room to take the place of the dashing chambermaid, who was needed by her mistress.
Annushka was evidently very glad at the arrival of her mistress's friend, and talked incessantly. Dolly noticed that she was eager to express her opinion about her mistress's position, and about the love and devotion which the count showed to Anna Arkadyevna; but she peremptorily stopped her as soon as she began to talk on this topic.
"I grew up with Anna Arkadyevna, and love her more than the whole world. It's not for us to judge her, and she seems to love ...."
"Please have these washed, if it is possible," said Darya Aleksandrovna, interrupting her.
"I will do so. We have two women especially for the laundry, but the washing is done all by machinery. The count looks out for everything. He is such a husband ...."
Dolly was glad when Anna came in and put an end to the babbling Annushka's confidences.
Anna had put on a very simple batiste gown. Dolly noticed particularly this simple gown. She knew what this simplicity meant, and how much money it represented.
"An old acquaintance," said Anna to Annushka.
Anna now was no longer confused. She was perfectly calm and self-possessed. Dolly saw that now she was entirely free from the impression which her coming had at first produced, and had assumed that superficial tone of indifference which, as it were, closed the door to the expression of real thought and feelings.
"Well, and how is your little daughter?" asked Dolly.
"Ani?"—for so she called her daughter Anna—"very well. Her health is much better. Should you like to see her? Come, and I'll show her to you. We have had great trouble with her," she went on to relate. "We had an Italian for her nurse; good, but so stupid; we wanted to send her back, but the little thing is so much attached to her, we still keep her."
"But how have you done about...." began Dolly, wishing to ask about the child's name; but, as she saw Anna's countenance grow suddenly dark, she changed the ending of the question. "Have you weaned her?"
Anna understood.
"That is not what you were going to ask. You were thinking of the child's name, weren't you? This torments Alekseï; she has no name; that is, she is a Karenin," and she closed her eyes so that only the lashes were visible "However," she added, her face suddenly lighting up again, "we will talk again about all that; come, and I'll show her to you. Elle est très gentille; she is already beginning to creep."
In the nursery there was the same sumptuousness as had struck Darya Aleksandrovna throughout the rest of the house, only to an even higher degree. There were baby-coaches imported from England, and instruments for teaching children to walk, and a peculiarly arranged divan like a billiard table for creeping, bath-tubs, swings. All were new, beautiful, solid, of English make, and evidently very costly. The room was large, very high-studded, and light.
When they entered the little girl with only her shirt on was seated in an arm-chair by the table, and was eating her broth and spilling it all over her bosom. A Russian maid-servant who assisted in the nursery was helping her, and at the same time was apparently herself eating. Neither the Italian nurse nor the nursemaid was present; they were in the next room, and could be heard talking together in a strange French jargon which was the only means they had of communicating their ideas to each other.
The English maid, a tall, sprucely dressed woman with a disagreeable face and an untrustworthy expression, came into the doorway shaking her light brown curls as soon as she heard Anna's voice, and immediately began to offer her excuses, although Anna had not chidden her. At every word Anna spoke the English maid would several times repeat the phrase, "Yes, my lady."
The dark-browed, dark-haired, rosy little girl, with her strong, pretty little form, very much pleased Darya Aleksandrovna in spite of the unfriendly look with which she gazed at the stranger; her healthy appearance also pleased her, and her way of creeping. Not one of her own children had learned so early to creep. This little girl, when she was put down on the carpet and her dress was tucked up behind, was wonderfully beautiful. With her brilliant black eyes she gazed up at her elders like a pretty little animal, evidently delighting in the fact that they admired her, and she smiled; and, putting out her legs sidewise, she energetically crept about, now going swiftly backward, and again darting forward, and clutching things with her little fingers.
But the whole atmosphere of the nursery, and especially the English maid, struck Darya Aleksandrovna very unpleasantly. Only by the supposition that no respectable person would consent to serve in a household as irregular as Anna's, could she understand how Anna, with her knowledge of people, could be willing to put up with such an unsympathetic, vulgar maid.
Darya Aleksandrovna, after a few words, observed that Anna, the nurse, the maid, and the child were not much wonted to each other, and that the mother was almost a stranger in this part of the house. She wanted to find a plaything for the little girl and did not know where it was kept. Strangest of all, in answering the question how many teeth the child had, she made a mistake, and did not know anything about the last two.
"It is always a grief to me that I am so useless here," said Anna, as they went out, holding up the train of her dress so that it should not catch on any of the toys by the door. "It was not so with my oldest."
"I thought, on the contrary ...." began Dolly, timidly.
"Oh, no! You know that I have seen Serozha again," said she, half shutting her eyes and looking fixedly before her, as if she sought for something far away. "However, we'll talk about that by and by. You can't believe — but I am like a person dying of starvation, who finds a banquet before her, and does not know what to begin with. You and the talk I am going to have with you are this banquet for me. With whom could I speak openly if not with you? I don't know what topic to take up first. Mais je ne vous ferai grâce de rien.[1] I must tell you all.
"Well, I want to give you a sketch now of the people you will meet here," she began. "First, the Princess Varvara. You know her, and I know your opinion and Stiva's in regard to her. Stiva says her whole aim of life consists in proving her preeminence over Aunt Katerina Pavlovna. That is all true of her; but she is good, I assure you, and I am so grateful to her. At Petersburg there was a time when un chaperon was indispensable. Then she came along just in time. It is really true; she is good. She made my position much easier. I see you don't know how difficult my position was .... there in Petersburg!" she added. "Here I am very comfortable and happy. But about this afterward. But I must tell you about our guests. Then there's Sviazhsky; he is the marshal of the district,[2] and a very clever man, and he needed Alekseï for something. You see, with his fortune, now, as we live in the country, Alekseï can wield a wide influence. Then Tushkievitch; you have met him; he was at Betsy's; but they sent him off, and he came to visit us. As Alekseï says, he is one of those very agreeable men, if one takes him just as he wishes to appear, et puis il est comme il faut, as the Princess Varvara says. And then Veslovsky .... you know him. A very good young fellow," she said, and a mischievous smile curled her lips. "How about that absurd story he told of Levin? Veslovsky told Alekseï, and we don't believe it. Il est très gentil et naïf," she added, with the same smile. "I have to entertain all these people, because men need amusement, and Alekseï needs society; and we have to make it lively and gay, so that Alekseï won't want something new. We also have with us the superintendent. He is a German, a very good man, who understands his business; Alekseï has great esteem for him. Then there's the doctor, a young man who is not exactly a Nihilist, but, you know, he eats with his knife, but a very good doctor. Then the architect,—une petite cour."