Anna Karenina (Literature Classics Series) - Leo Tolstoy

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But you are a Member?’

      ‘No, I am no longer on it. I resigned,’ answered Levin, ‘and don’t attend the Meetings any more.’

      ‘That’s a pity!’ said Koznyshev, and frowned. To justify himself Levin began to relate what used to happen at the Meetings in his district.

      ‘There now! It’s always the same,’ interrupted Koznyshev. ‘We Russians are always like that. It may be a good trait in us — this capacity to see our own faults — but we overdo it, and comfort ourselves with sarcasm, which is always ready on our tongues. I can only tell you, that with such rights as we have in our rural institutions, any other European nation — the English or the Germans — would have secured their freedom, while we only jeer at our Zemstvos!’

      ‘But what is to be done?’ said Levin guiltily. ‘That was my last attempt. And I tried with my whole soul… . But I can’t do it! I’m incapable.’

      ‘Incapable!’ said Koznyshev. ‘No, you don’t look at it from the right point of view.’

      ‘That may be,’ said Levin mournfully.

      ‘Do you know that our brother Nicholas is here again?’

      Nicholas was Constantine Levin’s elder brother, and Koznyshev’s half-brother. He was a ruined man who had squandered the greater part of his fortune, mixed with the strangest and worst society, and quarrelled with his brothers.

      ‘You don’t mean to say so!’ cried Levin, horror-struck. ‘How do you know?’

      ‘Prokofy met him in the street.’

      ‘Here, in Moscow? Where is he? Do you know?’ Levin rose from his chair as if meaning to go at once.

      ‘I am sorry I told you,’ said Koznyshev, shaking his head at his brother’s excitement. ‘I sent to find out where he is living, and forwarded him a note of hand he had given to Trubin, which I had paid. And this is the answer I received.’

      Koznyshev took a note from under a paper-weight and handed it to his brother.

      Levin read the note, written in a curious but familiar hand:

      ‘I humbly beg you to leave me alone. That is all I demand of my dear brothers. — NICHOLAS LEVIN.’

      When Levin had read the note, holding it in his hand, he remained standing in front of Koznyshev without lifting his head.

      A struggle was going on within him between the desire to forget his unfortunate brother for the present, and the consciousness that this would be wrong.

      ‘He evidently wants to offend me,’ continued Koznyshev, ‘but he cannot do that. I wish with all my heart I could help him, but I know it can’t be done.’

      ‘Yes, yes,’ said Levin, ‘I understand, and appreciate your attitude toward him; but personally I shall go to see him.’

      ‘Go if you like, but I don’t advise it,’ said Koznyshev. ‘That’s to say, I’m not afraid of it on my own account, he will not make mischief between us, but on your account I don’t advise it. You had better not go. It’s impossible to help him. However, do as you please!’

      ‘It may be impossible to help him, but I feel — especially at this moment … but that’s a different matter — I feel that I cannot be at peace… .’

      ‘Well, I don’t understand that,’ said Koznyshev. ‘But what I do understand is a lesson in humility. I have begun to look differently, more leniently, at what is called rascality, since brother Nicholas became what he is. Do you know what he has done?’

      ‘Ah, it’s dreadful, dreadful!’ Levin repeated.

      Having got the address from Koznyshev’s footman Levin thought of going at once to see his brother; but, on reflection, decided to put off the visit till the evening. To obtain peace of mind it was necessary first of all to decide the business that had brought him to Moscow. He therefore went to Oblonsky’s office, and having received news of the Shcherbatskys he drove to the place where he was told he could see Kitty.

      Chapter 9

       Table of Contents

      AT four o’clock that afternoon Levin, conscious that his heart was beating rapidly, got out of the hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens and went down the path leading to the ice-hills and skating lake, sure of finding Kitty there, for he had noticed the Shcherbatskys’ carriage at the entrance.

      It was a clear frosty day. Carriages, private sledges, sledges for hire, and mounted police stood at the entrance. Well-dressed people, their hats shining in the sunlight, crowded at the gates and thronged the clean-swept paths between little houses built with carved eaves in Russian style. The bushy birch trees in the Garden with all their branches weighed down by snow seemed attired in new festive garments. He walked along the path leading to the skating lake, and kept repeating to himself: ‘I must not be excited. I must be quiet! … What are you doing? What’s the matter? Be quiet, stupid!’ he said to his heart. But the more he tried to be calm, the more laboured grew his breath. He met an acquaintance who called to him, but Levin did not even notice who it was. He approached the ice-hills and heard the clanking of the chains by which the sledges were being pulled up, their clatter as they descended the hills, and the sound of merry voices. A few more steps brought him to the skating lake, and among all the skaters he at once recognized her. He knew she was there by the joy and terror that took possession of his heart. She stood talking to a lady at the other end of the lake. There seemed to be nothing striking in her dress or attitude, but it was as easy for Levin to recognize her in that crowd as to find a rose among nettles. Everything was lit up by her. She was the smile that brightened everything around.

      ‘Can I really step down on to the ice, and go up to her?’ he thought. The spot where she stood seemed to him an unapproachable sanctuary, and there was a moment when he nearly went away, he was so filled with awe. He had to make an effort and reason with himself that all sorts of people were passing near her and he himself might have come just to skate. He stepped down, avoiding any long look at her as one avoids long looks at the sun, but seeing her as one sees the sun, without looking.

      On that day of the week and at that hour, people belonging to the same set and acquainted with one another, met on the ice. Among them were masters of the art of skating showing off their skill, and beginners with timid and awkward movements holding on to the backs of chairs fitted with runners; boys, and old men skating for hygienic reasons; and they all seemed to Levin to be fortune’s favourites because they were here near her. Yet skaters appeared quite calmly to gain on her, to catch her up, and even speak to her, and quite independently of her to amuse themselves enjoying the excellent ice and the fine weather.

      Nicholas Shcherbatsky, Kitty’s cousin, in a short jacket, tight trousers, with skates on his feet, was sitting on a bench, and seeing Levin, called out to him.

      ‘Hullo you Russian champion skater! When did you come? The ice is splendid — put on your skates!’

      ‘I haven’t any skates,’ answered Levin, wondering at such boldness and freedom of manner in her presence, and not losing sight of her for a moment although not looking at her. He felt the sun approaching him. She was turning a corner, her little feet, shod in high boots, kept close together, and she was skating timidly toward him. A little boy dressed in a Russian costume, violently swinging his arms and stooping very low, was overtaking her.

      She was not very firm on her feet. Having drawn her hands from the muff that hung by a cord from her neck, she held them out and looking at Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him and at her fears. Having turned the corner, she pushed off with an elastic little foot, glided straight up to Shcherbatsky, and catching hold of him with her hand, nodded smilingly to Levin. She was more beautiful than he had imagined her.

      When he thought about her he could vividly picture to himself her entire person, and

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