Anna Karenina by graf Leo Tolstoy
Chapter 151
1615 words | Chapter 151
The levee was drawing to a close. People met as they were going away,
and gossiped of the latest news, of the newly bestowed honors and the
changes in the positions of the higher functionaries.
“If only Countess Marya Borissovna were Minister of War, and Princess
Vatkovskaya were Commander-in-Chief,” said a gray-headed, little old
man in a gold-embroidered uniform, addressing a tall, handsome maid of
honor who had questioned him about the new appointments.
“And me among the adjutants,” said the maid of honor, smiling.
“You have an appointment already. You’re over the ecclesiastical
department. And your assistant’s Karenin.”
“Good-day, prince!” said the little old man to a man who came up to
him.
“What were you saying of Karenin?” said the prince.
“He and Putyatov have received the Alexander Nevsky.”
“I thought he had it already.”
“No. Just look at him,” said the little old man, pointing with his
embroidered hat to Karenin in a court uniform with the new red ribbon
across his shoulders, standing in the doorway of the hall with an
influential member of the Imperial Council. “Pleased and happy as a
brass farthing,” he added, stopping to shake hands with a handsome
gentleman of the bedchamber of colossal proportions.
“No; he’s looking older,” said the gentleman of the bedchamber.
“From overwork. He’s always drawing up projects nowadays. He won’t let
a poor devil go nowadays till he’s explained it all to him under
heads.”
“Looking older, did you say? _Il fait des passions_. I believe Countess
Lidia Ivanovna’s jealous now of his wife.”
“Oh, come now, please don’t say any harm of Countess Lidia Ivanovna.”
“Why, is there any harm in her being in love with Karenin?”
“But is it true Madame Karenina’s here?”
“Well, not here in the palace, but in Petersburg. I met her yesterday
with Alexey Vronsky, _bras dessous, bras dessous_, in the Morsky.”
“_C’est un homme qui n’a pas_,...” the gentleman of the bedchamber was
beginning, but he stopped to make room, bowing, for a member of the
Imperial family to pass.
Thus people talked incessantly of Alexey Alexandrovitch, finding fault
with him and laughing at him, while he, blocking up the way of the
member of the Imperial Council he had captured, was explaining to him
point by point his new financial project, never interrupting his
discourse for an instant for fear he should escape.
Almost at the same time that his wife left Alexey Alexandrovitch there
had come to him that bitterest moment in the life of an official—the
moment when his upward career comes to a full stop. This full stop had
arrived and everyone perceived it, but Alexey Alexandrovitch himself
was not yet aware that his career was over. Whether it was due to his
feud with Stremov, or his misfortune with his wife, or simply that
Alexey Alexandrovitch had reached his destined limits, it had become
evident to everyone in the course of that year that his career was at
an end. He still filled a position of consequence, he sat on many
commissions and committees, but he was a man whose day was over, and
from whom nothing was expected. Whatever he said, whatever he proposed,
was heard as though it were something long familiar, and the very thing
that was not needed. But Alexey Alexandrovitch was not aware of this,
and, on the contrary, being cut off from direct participation in
governmental activity, he saw more clearly than ever the errors and
defects in the action of others, and thought it his duty to point out
means for their correction. Shortly after his separation from his wife,
he began writing his first note on the new judicial procedure, the
first of the endless series of notes he was destined to write in the
future.
Alexey Alexandrovitch did not merely fail to observe his hopeless
position in the official world, he was not merely free from anxiety on
this head, he was positively more satisfied than ever with his own
activity.
“He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord,
how he may please the Lord: but he that is married careth for the
things that are of the world, how he may please his wife,” says the
Apostle Paul, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, who was now guided in every
action by Scripture, often recalled this text. It seemed to him that
ever since he had been left without a wife, he had in these very
projects of reform been serving the Lord more zealously than before.
The unmistakable impatience of the member of the Council trying to get
away from him did not trouble Alexey Alexandrovitch; he gave up his
exposition only when the member of the Council, seizing his chance when
one of the Imperial family was passing, slipped away from him.
Left alone, Alexey Alexandrovitch looked down, collecting his thoughts,
then looked casually about him and walked towards the door, where he
hoped to meet Countess Lidia Ivanovna.
“And how strong they all are, how sound physically,” thought Alexey
Alexandrovitch, looking at the powerfully built gentleman of the
bedchamber with his well-combed, perfumed whiskers, and at the red neck
of the prince, pinched by his tight uniform. He had to pass them on his
way. “Truly is it said that all the world is evil,” he thought, with
another sidelong glance at the calves of the gentleman of the
bedchamber.
Moving forward deliberately, Alexey Alexandrovitch bowed with his
customary air of weariness and dignity to the gentleman who had been
talking about him, and looking towards the door, his eyes sought
Countess Lidia Ivanovna.
“Ah! Alexey Alexandrovitch!” said the little old man, with a malicious
light in his eyes, at the moment when Karenin was on a level with them,
and was nodding with a frigid gesture, “I haven’t congratulated you
yet,” said the old man, pointing to his newly received ribbon.
“Thank you,” answered Alexey Alexandrovitch. “What an _exquisite_ day
today,” he added, laying emphasis in his peculiar way on the word
_exquisite_.
That they laughed at him he was well aware, but he did not expect
anything but hostility from them; he was used to that by now.
Catching sight of the yellow shoulders of Lidia Ivanovna jutting out
above her corset, and her fine pensive eyes bidding him to her, Alexey
Alexandrovitch smiled, revealing untarnished white teeth, and went
towards her.
Lidia Ivanovna’s dress had cost her great pains, as indeed all her
dresses had done of late. Her aim in dress was now quite the reverse of
that she had pursued thirty years before. Then her desire had been to
adorn herself with something, and the more adorned the better. Now, on
the contrary, she was perforce decked out in a way so inconsistent with
her age and her figure, that her one anxiety was to contrive that the
contrast between these adornments and her own exterior should not be
too appalling. And as far as Alexey Alexandrovitch was concerned she
succeeded, and was in his eyes attractive. For him she was the one
island not only of goodwill to him, but of love in the midst of the sea
of hostility and jeering that surrounded him.
Passing through rows of ironical eyes, he was drawn as naturally to her
loving glance as a plant to the sun.
“I congratulate you,” she said to him, her eyes on his ribbon.
Suppressing a smile of pleasure, he shrugged his shoulders, closing his
eyes, as though to say that that could not be a source of joy to him.
Countess Lidia Ivanovna was very well aware that it was one of his
chief sources of satisfaction, though he never admitted it.
“How is our angel?” said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, meaning Seryozha.
“I can’t say I was quite pleased with him,” said Alexey Alexandrovitch,
raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes. “And Sitnikov is not
satisfied with him.” (Sitnikov was the tutor to whom Seryozha’s secular
education had been intrusted.) “As I have mentioned to you, there’s a
sort of coldness in him towards the most important questions which
ought to touch the heart of every man and every child....” Alexey
Alexandrovitch began expounding his views on the sole question that
interested him besides the service—the education of his son.
When Alexey Alexandrovitch with Lidia Ivanovna’s help had been brought
back anew to life and activity, he felt it his duty to undertake the
education of the son left on his hands. Having never before taken any
interest in educational questions, Alexey Alexandrovitch devoted some
time to the theoretical study of the subject. After reading several
books on anthropology, education, and didactics, Alexey Alexandrovitch
drew up a plan of education, and engaging the best tutor in Petersburg
to superintend it, he set to work, and the subject continually absorbed
him.
“Yes, but the heart. I see in him his father’s heart, and with such a
heart a child cannot go far wrong,” said Lidia Ivanovna with
enthusiasm.
“Yes, perhaps.... As for me, I do my duty. It’s all I can do.”
“You’re coming to me,” said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, after a pause; “we
have to speak of a subject painful for you. I would give anything to
have spared you certain memories, but others are not of the same mind.
I have received a letter from _her_. _She_ is here in Petersburg.”
Alexey Alexandrovitch shuddered at the allusion to his wife, but
immediately his face assumed the deathlike rigidity which expressed
utter helplessness in the matter.
“I was expecting it,” he said.
Countess Lidia Ivanovna looked at him ecstatically, and tears of
rapture at the greatness of his soul came into her eyes.
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