Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Two/Chapter 18
CHAPTER XVIII
Although Vronsky's inner life was wholly absorbed by his passion, his outward life unchangeably and inevitably ran along on the former ordinary rails of his social and regimental ties and interests. His regiment filled an important part in his life, in the first place because he loved his regiment, and, still more, because he was extremely popular in it. In his regiment he was not only admired, but he was also respected. They were proud of him, proud that a man enormously rich, with a fine education and with qualities, with a path open before him to every kind of success and ambition and glorification, scorned all that, and placed the interests of his regiment and his comrades above all the interests of life. Vronksy recognized the feeling which he inspired, and, besides the fact that he loved that life, he felt called on, in a certain degree, to sustain his character.
Of course he spoke to no one of his passion. Never did an imprudent word escape him, even when he joined his comrades in the liveliest of drinking-bouts,—however, he was never so intoxicated as to lose control over himself,—and he kept his mouth shut in the presence of those gossiping meddlers who made the least allusion to the affairs of his heart. Nevertheless, his passion was a matter of notoriety throughout the city; all had more or less well-founded suspicions of his relationship to Madame Karenin, and most of the young men envied him on account of the very thing that was the greatest drawback to his love,—Karenin's high station, which made the matter more conspicuous.
The majority of young women, jealous of Anna, whom they were weary of hearing always called the just, were not sorry to have their predictions verified, and were waiting only for the sanction of public opinion, to overwhelm her with the whole weight of their scorn; they had already prepared for use the mud which should be thrown at her when the time should come. Most people of experience, and those of high rank, were displeased at the prospect of a disgraceful scandal in society.
Vronsky's mother, when she heard of the liaison, at first was glad; because, in her opinion, nothing gave the last finish to a brilliant young man compared to an intrigue in high life; and because she was not sorry to find that this Madame Karenin, who had pleased her so much and who seemed so entirely devoted to her boy, was, after all, only like any other handsome and elegant woman. But later she learned that her son had refused an important promotion, for no other reason than that he might stay with his regiment and keep on visiting Madame Karenin, and she learned that, on account of this, persons very high in authority were dissatisfied with him, and she changed her opinion in regard to it.
There was another reason why she did not now approve of it: from all she could learn of this liaison, it was not the brilliant and fashionable flirtation, such as she approved, but a desperate tragedy, after the style of Werther, according to report, and she was afraid lest her son should be drawn into some folly. Since his unexpected departure from Moscow she had not seen him, but she sent word to him, through his elder brother, that she desired him to come to her. His elder brother was even more dissatisfied, not because he felt anxious to know whether this love-affair was to be deep or ephemeral, passionate or Platonic, innocent or guilty,—he himself, though a married man and the father of a family, had a ballet dancer for a mistress, and therefore had no right to be severe,—but because he knew that this love-affair was displeasing in quarters where it was better to be on good terms; and therefore he blamed his brother's conduct.
Vronsky, besides his society relations and his military duties, had yet another absorbing passion,—horses. The officers' handicap races were to take place this summer. He became a subscriber, and bought a pure-blood English trotter; and in spite of his love-affair, he was passionately though discreetly interested in the results of the races. ....
These two passions did not interfere with each other. On the contrary, he needed something independent of his love-affair, some occupation and interest in which he could find refreshment and recreation after the over-violent emotions which stirred him.