Part Six: Chapter 15

by Leo Tolstoy

　　After escorting his wife upstairs, Levin went to Dolly's part ofthe house. Darya Alexandrovna, for her part, was in greatdistress too that day. She was walking about the room, talkingangrily to a little girl, who stood in the corner roaring.

　　"And you shall stand all day in the corner, and have your dinnerall alone, and not see one of your dolls, and I won't make you anew frock," she said, not knowing how to punish her.

　　"Oh, she is a disgusting child!" she turned to Levin. "Wheredoes she get such wicked propensities?"

　　"Why, what has she done?" Levin said without much interest, forhe had wanted to ask her advice, and so was annoyed that he hadcome at an unlucky moment.

　　"Grisha and she went into the raspberries, and there...I can'ttell you really what she did. It's a thousand pities MissElliot's not with us. This one sees to nothing--she's amachine.... Figurez-vous que la petite?..."

　　And Darya Alexandrovna described Masha's crime.

　　"That proves nothing; it's not a question of evil propensities atall, it's simply mischief," Levin assured her.

　　"But you are upset about something? What have you come for?"asked Dolly. "What's going on there?"

　　And in the tone of her question Levin heard that it would be easyfor him to say what he had meant to say.

　　"I've not been in there, I've been alone in the garden withKitty. We've had a quarrel for the second time since...Stivacame."

　　Dolly looked at him with her shrewd, comprehending eyes.

　　"Come, tell me, honor bright, has there been...not in Kitty, butin that gentleman's behavior, a tone which might be unpleasant--not unpleasant, but horrible, offensive to a husband?"

　　"You mean, how shall I say.... Stay, stay in the corner!" shesaid to Masha, who, detecting a faint smile in her mother's face,had been turning round. "The opinion of the world would be thathe is behaving as young men do behave. Il fait la cour a unejeune et jolie femme, and a husband who's a man of the worldshould only be flattered by it."

　　"Yes, yes," said Levin gloomily; "but you noticed it?"

　　"Not only I, but Stiva noticed it. Just after breakfast he saidto me in so many words, Je crois que Veslovsky fait un petit brinde cour a Kitty."

　　"Well, that's all right then; now I'm satisfied. I'll send himaway," said Levin.

　　"What do you mean!b Are you crazy?" Dolly cried in horror;"nonsense, Kostya, only think!" she said, laughing. "You can gonow to Fanny," she said to Masha. "No, if you wish it, I'llspeak to Stiva. He'll take him away. He can say you'reexpecting visitors. Altogether he doesn't fit into the house."

　　"No, no, I'll do it myself."

　　"But you'll quarrel with him?"

　　"Not a bit. I shall so enjoy it," Levin said, his eyes flashingwith real enjoyment. "Come, forgive her, Dolly, she won't do itagain," he said of the little sinner, who had not gone to Fanny,but was standing irresolutely before her mother, waiting andlooking up from under her brows to catch her mother's eye.

　　The mother glanced at her. The child broke into sobs, hid herface on her mother's lap, and Dolly laid her thin, tender hand onher head.

　　"And what is there in common between us and him?" thought Levin,and he went off to look for Veslovsky.

　　As he passed through the passage he gave orders for the carriageto be got ready to drive to the station.

　　"The spring was broken yesterday," said the footman.

　　"Well, the covered trap, then, and make haste. Where's thevisitor?"

　　"The gentleman's gone to his room."

　　Levin came upon Veslovsky at the moment when the latter, havingunpacked his things from his trunk, and laid out some new songs,was putting on his gaiters to go out riding.

　　Whether there was something exceptional in Levin's face, or thatVassenka was himself conscious that ce petit brin de cour he wasmaking was out of place in this family, but he was somewhat (asmuch as a young man in society can be) disconcerted at Levin'sentrance.

　　"You ride in gaiters?"

　　"Yes, it's much cleaner," said Vassenka, putting his fat leg on achair, fastening the bottom hook, and smiling with simple-heartedgood humor.

　　He was undoubtedly a good-natured fellow, and Levin felt sorryfor him and ashamed of himself, as his host, when he saw the shylook on Vassenka's face.

　　On the table lay a piece of stick which they had broken togetherthat morning, trying their strength. Levin took the fragment inhis hands and began smashing it up, breaking bits off the stick,not knowing how to begin.

　　"I wanted...." He paused, but suddenly, remembering Kitty andeverything that had happened, he said, looking him resolutely inthe face: "I have ordered the horses to be put-to for you."

　　"How so?" Vassenka began in surprise. "To drive where?"

　　"For you to drive to the station," Levin said gloomily.

　　"Are you going away, or has something happened?"

　　"It happens that I expect visitors," said Levin, his strongfingers more and more rapidly breaking off the ends of the splitstick. "And I'm not expecting visitors, and nothing hashappened, but I beg you to go away. You can explain my rudenessas you like."

　　Vassenka drew himself up.

　　"I beg you to explain..." he said with dignity, understanding atlast.

　　"I can't explain," Levin said softly and deliberately, trying tocontrol the trembling of his jaw; "and you'd better not ask."

　　And as the split ends were all broken off, Levin clutched thethick ends in his finger, broke the stick in two, and carefullycaught the end as it fell.

　　Probably the sight of those nervous fingers, of the muscles hehad proved that morning at gymnastics, of the glittering eyes,the soft voice, and quivering jaws, convinced Vassenka betterthan any words. He bowed, shrugging his shoulders, and smilingcontemptuously.

　　"Can I not see Oblonsky?"

　　The shrug and the smile did not irritate Levin.

　　"What else was there for him to do?" he thought.

　　"I'll send him to you at once."

　　"What madness is this?" Stepan Arkadyevitch said when, afterhearing from his friend that he was being turned out of thehouse, he found Levin in the garden, where he was walking aboutwaiting for his guest's departure. "Mais c'est ridicule! Whatfly has stung you? Mais c'est du dernier ridicule! What did youthink, if a young man..."

　　But the place where Levin had been stung was evidently stillsore, for he turned pale again, when Stepan Arkadyevitch wouldhave enlarged on the reason, and he himself cut him short.

　　"Please don't go into it! I can't help it. I feel ashamed ofhow I'm treating you and him. But it won't be, I imagine, agreat grief to him to go, and his presence was distasteful to meand to my wife."

　　"But it's insulting to him! Et puis c'est ridicule."

　　"And to me it's both insulting and distressing! And I'm not atfault in any way, and there's no need for me to suffer."

　　"Well, this I didn't expect of you! On peut etre jaloux, mais ace point, c'est du dernier ridicule!"

　　Levin turned quickly, and walked away from him into the depths ofthe avenue, and he went on walking up and down alone. Soon heheard the rumble of the trap, and saw from behind the trees howVassenka, sitting in the hay (unluckily there was no seat in thetrap) in his Scotch cap, was driven along the avenue, jolting upand down over the ruts.

　　"What's this?" Levin thought, when a footman ran out of the houseand stopped the trap. It was the mechanician, whom Levin hadtotally forgotten. The mechanician, bowing low, said somethingto Veslovsky, then clambered into the trap, and they drove offtogether.

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch and the princess were much upset by Levin'saction. And he himself felt not only in the highest degreeridicule, but also utterly guilty and disgraced. But rememberingwhat sufferings he and his wife had been through, when he askedhimself how he should act another time, he answered that heshould do just the same again.

　　In spite of all this, towards the end of that day, everyoneexcept the princess, who could not pardon Levin's action, becameextraordinarily lively and good humored, like children after apunishment or grown-up people after a dreary, ceremoniousreception, so that by the evening Vassenka's dismissal was spokenof, in the absence of the princess, as though it were some remoteevent. And Dolly, who had inherited her father's gift ofhumorous storytelling, made Varenka helpless with laughter as sherelated for the third and fourth time, always with fresh humorousadditions, how she had only just put on her new shoes for thebenefit of the visitor, and on going into the drawing room, heardsuddenly the rumble of the trap. And who should be in the trapbut Vassenka himself, with his Scotch cap, and his songs and hisgaiters, and all, sitting in the hay.

　　"If only you'd ordered out the carriage! But no! and then Ihear: 'Stop!' Oh, I thought they've relented. I look out, andbehold a fat German being sat down by him and driving away....And my new shoes all for nothing!..."