LITMIR.BIZ

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and nice to be silent. But please don’t fret about your son, you can’t expect never to be parted.’

      Mrs. Karenina stood very erect and her eyes were smiling.

      ‘Anna Arkadyevna Karenina has a son who, I think, is eight years old,’ explained the Countess, ‘and she has never before been separated from him and so she is worried at having left him.’

      ‘Yes, the Countess and I have talked all the time — I about my son and she about hers,’ said Mrs. Karenina, and a smile brightened her face, a kind smile on his account.

      ‘I expect you got very weary of it,’ he said, quickly seizing in its flight the bail of coquetry she had thrown at him. But she evidently did not wish to continue the conversation in that tone, and turned to the old Countess.

      ‘Thank you very much. I hardly noticed how the time passed. Au revoir, Countess.’

      ‘Goodbye, dear!’ answered the Countess. ‘Let me kiss your pretty face. I’m an old woman and say what I mean, and tell you frankly that I’ve lost my heart to you.’

      Conventional as the phrase was, Mrs. Karenina evidently believed it and was pleased. She blushed, stooped a little, and held out her face for the Countess to kiss, then she stood up again, and with the same smile hovering between her lips and eyes held out her hand to Vronsky. He pressed the little hand, and the firm grip with which she shook his gave him unusual pleasure. She went out with that brisk tread which carried her rather full figure with such wonderful ease.

      ‘Very charming,’ said the old lady.

      Her son thought so too. He followed her with his eyes as long as he could see her graceful form, and his face retained its smile. Through the carriage window he saw her approach her brother and speak to him with animation about something that evidently had no connection with him, Vronsky, and that seemed to him provoking.

      ‘Well, maman, are you quite well?’ he said, turning toward his mother.

      ‘Quite, everything is all right. Alexander was very nice, and Varya looks very handsome. She is most interesting.’

      And she began to tell about what interested her most, her grandson’s christening, for which she had gone to Petersburg, and the special favour the Emperor had shown to her eldest son.

      ‘Here is Lavrenty at last,’ said Vronsky looking out of the window. ‘We can go now if you like.’

      The old major-domo, who had accompanied the Countess on her journey, came in and announced that everything was ready, and the Countess rose to go.

      ‘Come, there is not much of a crowd now,’ said Vronsky.

      The maid took one bag and the little dog, the major-domo and the porter took the other bags. Vronsky gave his arm to his mother, but, just as they were coming out of the carriage, several people ran past them with frightened faces. The station-master with his peculiar coloured cap also ran past them.

      Evidently something unusual had happened. The people were running back from the train.

      ‘What? … What? … Where? … Thrown himself under … Run over …’ shouted the passers-by.

      Oblonsky, with his sister on his arm, also turned back, and, avoiding the crowd, stood with frightened faces beside the carriage. The ladies re-entered the carriage, while Vronsky and Oblonsky followed the crowd, to find out about the accident.

      A watchman, either tipsy or too much muffled up because of the severe frost, had not heard a train that was being shunted, and had been run over.

      Before Vronsky and Oblonsky returned the ladies had heard this from the major-domo.

      Oblonsky and Vronsky had both seen the mangled corpse. Oblonsky was evidently suffering. His face was puckered and he seemed ready to cry.

      ‘Ah, how terrible! Oh Anna, if you had seen it! Ah, how terrible!’ he kept saying.

      Vronsky remained silent. His handsome face was serious but perfectly calm.

      ‘Oh, if you had seen it, Countess,’ said Oblonsky. ‘And his wife was there… . It was dreadful to see her. She threw herself on the body. They say he was the sole support of a very large family. It is terrible!’

      ‘Can nothing be done for her?’ said Mrs. Karenina in an agitated whisper.

      Vronsky glanced at her and at once went out. ‘I will be back directly, maman,’ he added, turning at the doorway.

      When he returned a few minutes later Oblonsky was already talking to the Countess about the new opera singer, while she was impatiently glancing at the door in expectation of her son.

      ‘Now let’s go,’ said Vronsky as he came in.

      They went together, Vronsky walking in front with his mother, Mrs. Karenina following with her brother. At the exit the station-master overtook them, and said to Vronsky:

      ‘You gave my assistant 200 roubles. Please be so kind as to say whom you intended it for.’

      ‘For the widow,’ said Vronsky, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I don’t understand what need there is to ask.’

      ‘You have given it!’ exclaimed Oblonsky behind Vronsky, and pressing his sister’s arm he added, ‘Very kind, very kind! Isn’t he a fine fellow? My respects to you, Countess,’ and he remained behind with his sister, seeking her maid.

      When they came out, the Vronskys’ carriage had already started. The people coming from the station were still talking about the accident.

      ‘What a terrible death!’ said some gentleman as he passed them; ‘cut in half, I hear.’

      ‘On the contrary, I think it is a very easy death, instantaneous,’ said another.

      ‘How is it that precautions are not taken?’ said a third.

      Mrs. Karenina got into her brother’s carriage, and Oblonsky noticed with surprise that her lips were trembling and that it was with difficulty she kept back her tears.

      ‘What is the matter with you, Anna?’ he asked when they had gone a few hundred yards.

      ‘It’s a bad omen,’ she replied.

      ‘What nonsense!’ said Oblonsky. ‘You’re here, and that is the chief thing. You can’t think how my hopes rest on you.’

      ‘And have you known Vronsky long?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes. Do you know we hope he will marry Kitty?’

      ‘Yes?’ said Anna softly. ‘But let us talk about your affairs,’ she added, shaking her head as if she wished physically to drive away something superfluous that hampered her. ‘Let us talk of your affairs. I’ve received your letter and have come.’

      ‘Yes, all my hopes are fixed on you,’ said her brother.

      ‘Well, tell me all about it.’

      And Oblonsky began his story.

      On reaching his house, he helped his sister out of the carriage, pressed her hand, and drove off to his office.

      Chapter 19

      WHEN Anna arrived Dolly was sitting in her little drawing-room giving a fair-haired, plump little boy (who already resembled his father) a French reading-lesson. The boy, as he read, kept twisting and trying to pull off a loose button that hung from his jacket. His mother moved his plump little hand away several times, but it always returned to the button. At last she pulled the button off and put it into her pocket.

      ‘Keep your hands quiet, Grisha,’ she said, and again took up the rug she was knitting, a piece of work begun long ago, to which she always returned in times of trouble, and which she was now knitting, nervously throwing the stitches over with her fingers and counting them. Though she had sent word to her husband the day before that she did not care whether

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