Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Six/Chapter 5
CHAPTER V
"Vavara Andreyevna, when I was very young, I formed for myself an ideal of the woman whom I should love and whom I should be happy to call my wife. I have lived a long life, and now for the first time I find in you all that I was seeking. I love you and I offer you my hand."
Sergyeï Ivanovitch was saying these words to himself when he was within ten steps of Varenka. She was kneeling on the grass and defending with her hands a mushroom from Grisha, and at the same time calling to little Masha.
"Here, come here. Little ones.... lots of them," she cried, in her deep, pleasant voice.
Though she saw Sergyeï Ivanovitch approaching she did not rise nor did she change her position; but everything told him that she was aware of his presence and was glad.
"Did you find any?" she asked, turning her sweet face toward him with a smile.
"Not one," replied Sergyeï Ivanovitch. "And you?"
She made no reply, her attention being just then absorbed by the children who surrounded her.
"Here's one for you near the twig," and she pointed out a little agaricus pushing its elastic red cap through the dry grass, from which it was extricating itself.
Varenka got up, after Masha had plucked the mushroom, breaking it into two white halves. "That reminds me of my childhood," she remarked, as she joined Sergyeï Ivanovitch and walked with him away from the children.
They proceeded a few steps in silence. Varenka saw that he wanted to speak; she suspected what he had in mind, and felt stifled with the emotions of joy and terror. They had now gone so far from the rest that no one could have heard them, yet he had not opened his mouth to speak. Varenka would have done better not to say a word. After a silence it would have been easier to say what they wanted to say than after any casual words. But against her own will, as it were unexpectedly, Varenka broke out:—
"And so you did not find any. But there are never so many mushrooms in the woods as along the edge."
Sergyeï Ivanovitch sighed and made no answer. He was annoyed because she spoke about mushrooms. He wanted to bring her back to the first words which she had spoken about her childhood; but, as it were, contrary to his will, after a brief silence, he made an observation on what she had said last.
"I have heard that the white mushrooms are found pre-eminently on the edge of the forest, but I can't tell them."
A few moments more passed; they had gone still farther away from the children, and were wholly alone.
Varenka's heart beat so violently that she heard its throbs, and she was conscious that she was blushing, turning pale, and then blushing again.
To be the wife of such a man as Koznuishef after her position with Mme. Stahl seemed to her the height of happiness. Moreover, she was almost convinced that she was in love with him. And this was to be decided immediately! It was a terrible moment for her; terrible, both what he would say, and what he would not say.
Now, or never, it would have to be decided; Sergyeï Ivanovitch also felt this. Everything in Varenka's looks, in her heightened color, in the way she dropped her eyes, betrayed the most painful expectation.
Sergyeï Ivanovitch saw this and was sorry for her. He even felt that he should wrong her if he kept silence. He made an effort to recall his recent arguments in favor of making the decision. He even repeated to himself the words in which he was going to couch his declaration; but instead of these words, by some combination unexpected to himself, he asked:—
"What is the difference between a white mushroom and a birch mushroom?"
Varenka's lips trembled as she answered:—
"There is very little difference in the cap, but it lies in the root."
And as soon as these words were spoken both of them felt that this was the end of it, that what should have been said would never be said, and the emotion which up to this moment had reached its highest pitch gradually died away.
"The birch mushroom, or its root, reminds one of a black beard which has not been shaved for two days," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, calmly.
"Quite true," answered Varenka, smiling, and involuntarily the direction of their walk changed. They were going back toward the children. Varenka was puzzled and hurt, but at the same time she experienced a sense of relief. Sergyeï Ivanovitch mentally reviewed his arguments in favor of marriage, and found them mistaken. He could not be unfaithful to Marie's memory.
"Gently, children, gently," cried Levin, testily, as the children sprang toward Kitty with shouts of glee.
Behind the children came Sergyeï Ivanovitch and Varenka. Kitty needed not to question them. She knew by their calm and slightly mortified manner that the hope which she had been nursing would not be realized.
"Well, how is it?" her husband asked, when they returned to the house.
"It will not happen," said Kitty, with a smile and manner which reminded him of her father, as Levin had often remarked to his delight.
"Why won't it happen?"
"This is why," said she, taking his hand, raising it to her mouth, and touching it with her closed lips. "As people kiss a bishop's hand!"
"Which one has failed of it?" he asked, laughing.
"Both. It must be so when...."
"Here come the muzhiks...."
"No, not yet."