difference to her, nevertheless, she was ready to receive her, and was waiting for her impatiently.
Dolly was absorbed by her woes,—absolutely swallowed up by them. But she did not forget that her sister-in-law, Anna, was the wife of one of the important personages of Petersburg,—a Petersburg grande dame. And, owing to this fact, she did not carry out what she had said to her husband; in other words, she did not forget that her sister was coming.
"After all, Anna is not to blame," she said to herself. "I know nothing about her that is not good, and our relations have always been good and friendly."
To be sure, as far as she could recall the impressions made on her by the Karenins, at Petersburg, their home did not seem to her entirely pleasant; there was something false in the whole manner of their family life.
"But why should I not receive her? Provided, only, that she does not take it into her head to console me," thought Dolly. "I know what these Christian exhortations, consolations, and justifications mean; I have gone over them all a thousand times, and they amount to nothing."
Dolly had spent these last days alone with her children. She did not care to speak to any one about her sorrow, and under the load of it she could not talk about indifferent matters. She knew that some way or other she should have to open her heart to Anna, and at one moment the thought that she could open her heart delighted her; and then again she was angry because she must speak of her humiliations before his sister, and listen to her ready-made phrases of exhortation and consolation.
She had been expecting every moment to see her sister-in-law appear, and had been watching the clock; but, as often happens in such cases, she became so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not hear the door bell. Hearing light steps and the rustling of a gown, she looked up, and involuntarily her jaded face expressed, not pleasure, but surprise. She arose, and threw her arms round her sister-in-law.
