Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Six/Chapter 22
CHAPTER XXII
Finding Dolly already returned, Anna looked scrutinizingly into her eyes, as if she would read there a reply to her wonder what she and Vronsky had been talking about, but she asked no questions.
"Dinner is nearly ready, and we have hardly seen each other. I count on this evening; but now I must go and change my gown. I suppose you'd like to do the same. One gets so soiled after such a walk."
Dolly went to her room, and felt ridiculous. She had no change to make, since she had worn her best gown; but, in order to make some change in her toilette, in honor of dinner, she asked the maid to brush the dust off, she changed her cuffs and put on a fresh ribbon, and put some lace in her hair.
"It is all I could do," she said laughingly, to Anna, who came to her, dressed in a third but very simple costume.
"Well! we are very formal here," said Anna, in apology for her elegant attire. "Alekseï is so glad that you came. I believe he has fallen in love with you," she added. "I hope you are not tired."
Before dinner there was no time for any talk. When they entered the drawing-room, they found the Princess Varvara and the gentlemen all in evening dress. The architect was the only one that wore a frock-coat. Vronsky presented the doctor and the superintendent to his guest. She had already met the architect at the hospital.
A portly butler, wearing a stiffly starched white cravat, and with his smooth round face shining, came and announced that dinner was served, and the ladies stood up. Vronsky asked Sviazhsky to escort Anna Arkadyevna into the dining-room, and he himself offered his arm to Darya Aleksandrovna. Veslovsky was quicker than Tushkievitch in handing in the Princess Varvara, so that Tushkievitch went with the doctor and the superintendent.
The dinner, the service, the plate, the wine, and the dishes served, not only corresponded to the general tone of new luxury appertaining to the household, but seemed even more luxurious and elegant. Darya Aleksandrovna took note of this splendor, which was quite new to her, and, as the mistress of an establishment of her own, she could not help making a mental inventory of the details, and wondering how and by whom it was all done; and yet she had no dream of introducing anything like it into her own home, which was conducted on a scale of far greater simplicity.
Vasenka Veslovsky, her own husband, and even Sviazhsky and many more men whom she knew, had never carried out anything like this, and every one of them believed in the dictum that the master of a well-regulated household always desires to make his guests imagine that the elegance and comfort surrounding them are not any trouble to him, but come about spontaneously.
Darya Aleksandrovna knew that even such a simple matter as providing kasha for her children's breakfast does not go of itself, and that all the more in such an elegant and complicated establishment there had to be some one in full and complete charge. And by the glances with which Alekseï Kirillovitch took in the details of the table, and by the nods which he gave toward the butler and by the way in which he offered Darya Aleksandrovna the choice between botvinya and soup, she understood that everything was done under the direct superintendence of the master of the house. Anna had nothing more to do with it than Veslovsky had. She and Sviazhsky, the princess and Veslovsky, were only guests, gayly and thoughtlessly taking advantage of what was done for them.
Anna was khozyaïka, or mistress of the household, only in the management of the conversation; and this conversation was very difficult at a small table among guests belonging to such different spheres of life as the superintendent and the architect, who were trying not to be dazzled by such unwonted splendor, and who were unused to taking part in a general conversation; but Anna went through with her task with her usual tact and simplicity, and even with pleasure, as Darya Aleksandrovna noticed.
The conversation turned first on the way in which Tushkievitch and Veslovsky had gone down alone to the boat, and Tushkievitch began to speak of the recent yacht-race under the auspices of the Petersburg yachtclub. But Anna, taking advantage of the first pause, quickly turned to the architect, in order to bring him out of his silence.
"Nikolaï Ivanuitch was surprised," said she, referring to Sviazhsky, "to see how the new building had grown since he was here last. But I myself am here every day, and every day I am surprised myself to see how fast it progresses.
"It is good to work with his excellency," said the architect, smiling. .... He had a sense of the dignity of his calling, and was a very worthy and self-possessed gentleman. .... "You don't do such work under government patronage. When they would write reams of paper, I simply lay the plan before the count, we talk it over, and three words decide it."
"American ways," suggested Sviazhsky, smiling.
"Yes! buildings there are raised rationally." ....
The conversation then went off on the abuse of power in the United States; but Anna immediately started him on a third theme, in order to bring out the superintendent from his silence.
"Have you ever seen the steam reaping-machines?" she asked of Darya Aleksandrovna. "We had just been to see ours when we met you. I never saw one before."
"How do they work?" asked Dolly.
"Just like scissors. A plank and a quantity of little knives. Like this!"
Anna took a knife and fork into her beautiful white hands covered with rings, and tried to show her. She apparently saw that she did not make herself very clear, but, knowing that she spoke pleasantly and that her, hands were beautiful, she continued her explanations.
"Better say pen-knives!" said Veslovsky, with an attempt at a pun,[1] and not taking his eyes from her.
Anna smiled almost imperceptibly, but made no reply to his remark.
"Am I not right, Karl, that they are like scissors?" she said, appealing to the director.
"Oh, ja," replied the German. "Es ist ein ganz einfaches Ding;" [2] and he began to explain the construction of the machine.
"It is too bad that it does not bind the sheaves. I saw one at the Vienna Exposition; it bound them with wire," said Sviazhsky. "That kind would be much more convenient."
"Es kommt drauf an Der Preis von Draht muss ausgerechnet werden." And the German, aroused from his silence, turned for confirmation to Vronsky—"Das lässt sick ausrechnen, Erlaucht."
The German put his hand into his pocket, where he kept a pencil and notebook, in which he had an exact statement, but, suddenly remembering that he was at the dinner-table, and noticing Vronsky's cold eyes fastened on him, he controlled himself.
"Zu complicirt macht zu viel Klopofs,"[3] he said in conclusion.
"Wünscht mail Dochots, so hat man auch Klopots,"[4] said Vasenka Veslovsky, making sport of the German. "J'adore l'allemand," he said, with a peculiar smile, turning to Anna.
"Cessez!" said she, with affected sternness.
"We expected to find you on the field," said she to the doctor, who was somewhat infirm. "Were you there?"
"I was there, but I evaporated," replied the doctor, with a melancholy attempt at a jest.
"It must have been a beautiful motion."
"Magnificent."
"Well, and how did you find your old woman? I hope it isn't the typhus."
"Whether it is typhus or not I can't tell yet, but ...."
"How sorry I am," said Anna; and, having thus shown her politeness to the dependents, she turned again to her friends.
"At any rate, it would be pretty hard to reconstruct a machine by following your description, Anna Arkadyevna," said Sviazhsky,
"No, why so?" said Anna, with a smile which intimated that she knew there was something charming in her description of the construction of the reaping-machines, and that even Sviazhsky had noticed it. This new trait of youthful coquetry struck Dolly unpleasantly.
"Still, in architecture Anna Arkadyevna's knowledge is very remarkable," said Tushkievitch. "Well, yesterday evening I heard Anna Arkadyevna making some wise remark about plinths," said Veslovsky. "Would you find me doing that?"
"There is nothing remarkable in that, when one keeps one's eyes and ears open," said Anna. "But don't you know what houses are built of?"
Darya Aleksandrovna perceived that Anna was not pleased with this tone of badinage which she and Veslovsky kept up, but that she fell into it involuntarily.
In this respect Vronsky behaved exactly the opposite to Levin. He evidently attributed not the least importance to Veslovsky's nonsense, but, on the contrary, encouraged this jesting.
"Well, tell us, Veslovsky, what they use to fasten stones together."
"Cement, of course."
"Bravo! And what is cement made of?"
"Well, it is something like gruel. .... No, a sort of mastic," said Veslovsky, amid general laughter.
The conversation among the guests, with the exception of the doctor, the superintendent, and the architect, who generally kept silence, went on without cessation, now growing light, now dragging a little, and now touching to the quick.
Once Darya Aleksandrovna was touched to the quick, and felt so provoked that she grew red in the face, and afterward she wondered if she made any improper or unpleasant remark. Sviazhsky spoke of Levin and told of some of his strange opinions in regard to machines being injurious to Russian agriculture.
"I have not the pleasure of knowing this Mr. Levin; probably he has never seen the machines he criticizes. But if he has seen and tried, they must have been Russian ones, and not the foreign make. What can be his views?"
"Turkish views," said Veslovsky, smiling at Anna.
"I cannot defend his opinions," said Dolly, reddening; "but Levin is a thoroughly intelligent man, and if he were here he would know what answer to make you, but I can't."
"Oh, I am very fond of him, and we are excellent friends," said Sviazhsky, smiling good-naturedly; "mais pardon, il est un petit peu toqué. For example, he considers tht zemstvo and the justices of the peace—everything—entirely useless—will have nothing to do with them."
"It's our Russian indifference!" exclaimed Vronsky, filling his goblet with ice-water from a carafe. "Not to feel the obligations which our privileges impose on us and so ignore them."
"I don't know any one who is more strict in the fulfilment of his duties," said Dolly, irritated by Vronsky's superior tone.
"I, on the contrary," continued Vronsky, evidently somewhat piqued by this conversation,—"I, on the contrary, am very grateful, as you see, for the honor which has been done me, thanks to Nikolaï Ivanovitch"—he referred to Sviazhsky—"in my appointment as honorary justice of the peace. I consider that for me the duty of going to the sessions of the court, of judging the affairs of a muzhik, are as important as anything that I could do. And I shall consider it an honor if you elect me a member of the town-council.[5] This is the only way that I can repay society for the privileges I enjoy as a landed proprietor. Unfortunately the influence which the large landed proprietors ought to wield is not fully appreciated."
Vronsky's calm assurance that he was in the right seemed very strange to Darya Aleksandrovna. She knew that Levin, whose opinions were diametrically opposite, was equally firm on his side; but she loved Levin, and so she was on his side.
"So we can depend on you at the next election, can we?" said Sviazhsky. "But we ought to leave earlier, so as to get there by the 8th. Will you do me the honor to go with me, count?"
"I pretty much agree with your beau frère," said Anna, "though for different reasons," she added, with a smile. "I am afraid that nowadays we are getting to have too many of these public duties, just as in old times there were so many chinovniks that there was a chinovnik for everything; so now every one is becoming a public functionary. Alekseï has been here six months, and is already a member of five or six different public commissions—wardenship,[6] judge, town councilman, juryman—I don't know what else. Du train que cela va all his time will be spent on it. And I am afraid if these things are multiplied so, that it will be only a matter of form. You have ever so many offices, Nikolaï Ivanuitch, have you not? at least twenty, haven't you?" she asked, turning toward Sviazhsky.
Anna spoke jestingly, but in her tone there was a shade of irritation. Darya Aleksandrovna, who was watching Anna and Vronsky attentively, immediately noticed it. She saw also that the count's face assumed a resolute and obstinate expression, and that the Princess Varvara made haste to talk about some Petersburg acquaintances, so as to change the subject; and, remembering what Vronsky had told her in the garden about his pleasure in activity, she felt certain that this conversation about public activities had something to do with a secret quarrel between Vronsky and Anna.
The dinner, the wines, the service, were luxurious, but everything seemed to Darya Aleksandrovna formal and impersonal, like the state dinners and balls that she had seen, and on an ordinary day and in a small circle it made a disagreeable impression on her.
After dinner they sat down on the terrace. Then they began to play lawn-tennis. The players, dividing into two sides, took their places on the carefully rolled and smoothly shaven croquet-ground, on which the net was stretched between gilded posts. Darya Aleksandrovna was invited to play, but it took a long time before she learned how, and when she got an idea of the game she felt so tired that she went and sat down by the Princess Varvara and only watched the players. Her partner, Tushkievitch, also ceased playing, but the others continued the game a long time. Sviazhsky and Vronsky both played very well and earnestly. They followed the tennis-ball with quick eyes as it was sent from one side to the other, not wasting their energies, and not getting confused, skilfully running to meet it, waiting till it should bound, and with good aim and perfect accuracy catching it on the racket and sending it over the net.
Veslovsky played worse than the others. He got too much excited, but nevertheless by his gayety he kept up the spirits of the other players. His jests and shouts never ceased. Like the other men, by the advice of the ladies he took off his coat and played, and his tall, well-shaped figure in his shirt-sleeves, and his ruddy, warm face, and his violent motions made a pleasant picture to remember.
When Darya Aleksandrovna that night lay down in her bed, as soon as she closed her eyes she saw Vasenka Veslovsky dancing about on the croquet-ground.
But while they were playing, Darya Aleksandrovna did not feel happy. She was displeased with the frivolity which Vasenka Veslovsky and Anna still kept up while they were playing; nor did such a childish game played by grown men and women by themselves, without children, seem natural or sensible. But lest she should destroy the pleasure of the others and so as to pass away the time, she rested a little while and then took part in another game and made believe that she was gay. All that day it seemed to her as if she were acting in a comedy with better actors than herself, and that her bad acting spoiled the whole piece. She had come intending to stay for two days if they urged her. But in the evening, during the game of tennis, she made up her mind to go home the next day. Those very same maternal cares which she had so hated as she thought them over during her journey, now, after two days' absence, presented themselves in another light and began to attract her. When, after tea and after a moonlight row in the boat, she went alone to her room, took off her gown, and began to put up her thin hair for the night, she felt a great sense of relief.
It was even unpleasant to think that Anna would soon be in to see her. She would have preferred to be alone with her thoughts.