Anna Karenina by graf Leo Tolstoy
Chapter 179
1748 words | Chapter 179
Left alone, Darya Alexandrovna, with a good housewife’s eye, scanned
her room. All she had seen in entering the house and walking through
it, and all she saw now in her room, gave her an impression of wealth
and sumptuousness and of that modern European luxury of which she had
only read in English novels, but had never seen in Russia and in the
country. Everything was new from the new French hangings on the walls
to the carpet which covered the whole floor. The bed had a spring
mattress, and a special sort of bolster and silk pillowcases on the
little pillows. The marble washstand, the dressing table, the little
sofa, the tables, the bronze clock on the chimney piece, the window
curtains, and the _portières_ were all new and expensive.
The smart maid, who came in to offer her services, with her hair done
up high, and a gown more fashionable than Dolly’s, was as new and
expensive as the whole room. Darya Alexandrovna liked her neatness, her
deferential and obliging manners, but she felt ill at ease with her.
She felt ashamed of her seeing the patched dressing jacket that had
unluckily been packed by mistake for her. She was ashamed of the very
patches and darned places of which she had been so proud at home. At
home it had been so clear that for six dressing jackets there would be
needed twenty-four yards of nainsook at sixteen pence the yard, which
was a matter of thirty shillings besides the cutting-out and making,
and these thirty shillings had been saved. But before the maid she
felt, if not exactly ashamed, at least uncomfortable.
Darya Alexandrovna had a great sense of relief when Annushka, whom she
had known for years, walked in. The smart maid was sent for to go to
her mistress, and Annushka remained with Darya Alexandrovna.
Annushka was obviously much pleased at that lady’s arrival, and began
to chatter away without a pause. Dolly observed that she was longing to
express her opinion in regard to her mistress’s position, especially as
to the love and devotion of the count to Anna Arkadyevna, but Dolly
carefully interrupted her whenever she began to speak about this.
“I grew up with Anna Arkadyevna; my lady’s dearer to me than anything.
Well, it’s not for us to judge. And, to be sure, there seems so much
love....”
“Kindly pour out the water for me to wash now, please,” Darya
Alexandrovna cut her short.
“Certainly. We’ve two women kept specially for washing small things,
but most of the linen’s done by machinery. The count goes into
everything himself. Ah, what a husband!...”
Dolly was glad when Anna came in, and by her entrance put a stop to
Annushka’s gossip.
Anna had put on a very simple batiste gown. Dolly scrutinized that
simple gown attentively. She knew what it meant, and the price at which
such simplicity was obtained.
“An old friend,” said Anna of Annushka.
Anna was not embarrassed now. She was perfectly composed and at ease.
Dolly saw that she had now completely recovered from the impression her
arrival had made on her, and had assumed that superficial, careless
tone which, as it were, closed the door on that compartment in which
her deeper feelings and ideas were kept.
“Well, Anna, and how is your little girl?” asked Dolly.
“Annie?” (This was what she called her little daughter Anna.) “Very
well. She has got on wonderfully. Would you like to see her? Come, I’ll
show her to you. We had a terrible bother,” she began telling her,
“over nurses. We had an Italian wet-nurse. A good creature, but so
stupid! We wanted to get rid of her, but the baby is so used to her
that we’ve gone on keeping her still.”
“But how have you managed?...” Dolly was beginning a question as to
what name the little girl would have; but noticing a sudden frown on
Anna’s face, she changed the drift of her question.
“How did you manage? have you weaned her yet?”
But Anna had understood.
“You didn’t mean to ask that? You meant to ask about her surname. Yes?
That worries Alexey. She has no name—that is, she’s a Karenina,” said
Anna, dropping her eyelids till nothing could be seen but the eyelashes
meeting. “But we’ll talk about all that later,” her face suddenly
brightening. “Come, I’ll show you her. _Elle est très gentille_. She
crawls now.”
In the nursery the luxury which had impressed Dolly in the whole house
struck her still more. There were little go-carts ordered from England,
and appliances for learning to walk, and a sofa after the fashion of a
billiard table, purposely constructed for crawling, and swings and
baths, all of special pattern, and modern. They were all English,
solid, and of good make, and obviously very expensive. The room was
large, and very light and lofty.
When they went in, the baby, with nothing on but her little smock, was
sitting in a little elbow chair at the table, having her dinner of
broth, which she was spilling all over her little chest. The baby was
being fed, and the Russian nursery maid was evidently sharing her meal.
Neither the wet-nurse nor the head-nurse were there; they were in the
next room, from which came the sound of their conversation in the queer
French which was their only means of communication.
Hearing Anna’s voice, a smart, tall, English nurse with a disagreeable
face and a dissolute expression walked in at the door, hurriedly
shaking her fair curls, and immediately began to defend herself though
Anna had not found fault with her. At every word Anna said, the English
nurse said hurriedly several times, “Yes, my lady.”
The rosy baby with her black eyebrows and hair, her sturdy red little
body with tight goose-flesh skin, delighted Darya Alexandrovna in spite
of the cross expression with which she stared at the stranger. She
positively envied the baby’s healthy appearance. She was delighted,
too, at the baby’s crawling. Not one of her own children had crawled
like that. When the baby was put on the carpet and its little dress
tucked up behind, it was wonderfully charming. Looking round like some
little wild animal at the grown-up big people with her bright black
eyes, she smiled, unmistakably pleased at their admiring her, and
holding her legs sideways, she pressed vigorously on her arms, and
rapidly drew her whole back up after, and then made another step
forward with her little arms.
But the whole atmosphere of the nursery, and especially the English
nurse, Darya Alexandrovna did not like at all. It was only on the
supposition that no good nurse would have entered so irregular a
household as Anna’s that Darya Alexandrovna could explain to herself
how Anna with her insight into people could take such an
unprepossessing, disreputable-looking woman as nurse to her child.
Besides, from a few words that were dropped, Darya Alexandrovna saw at
once that Anna, the two nurses, and the child had no common existence,
and that the mother’s visit was something exceptional. Anna wanted to
get the baby her plaything, and could not find it.
Most amazing of all was the fact that on being asked how many teeth the
baby had, Anna answered wrong, and knew nothing about the two last
teeth.
“I sometimes feel sorry I’m so superfluous here,” said Anna, going out
of the nursery and holding up her skirt so as to escape the plaything
standing in the doorway. “It was very different with my first child.”
“I expected it to be the other way,” said Darya Alexandrovna shyly.
“Oh, no! By the way, do you know I saw Seryozha?” said Anna, screwing
up her eyes, as though looking at something far away. “But we’ll talk
about that later. You wouldn’t believe it, I’m like a hungry beggar
woman when a full dinner is set before her, and she does not know what
to begin on first. The dinner is you, and the talks I have before me
with you, which I could never have with anyone else; and I don’t know
which subject to begin upon first. _Mais je ne vous ferai grâce de
rien_. I must have everything out with you.”
“Oh, I ought to give you a sketch of the company you will meet with
us,” she went on. “I’ll begin with the ladies. Princess Varvara—you
know her, and I know your opinion and Stiva’s about her. Stiva says the
whole aim of her existence is to prove her superiority over Auntie
Katerina Pavlovna: that’s all true; but she’s a good-natured woman, and
I am so grateful to her. In Petersburg there was a moment when a
chaperon was absolutely essential for me. Then she turned up. But
really she is good-natured. She did a great deal to alleviate my
position. I see you don’t understand all the difficulty of my position
... there in Petersburg,” she added. “Here I’m perfectly at ease and
happy. Well, of that later on, though. Then Sviazhsky—he’s the marshal
of the district, and he’s a very good sort of a man, but he wants to
get something out of Alexey. You understand, with his property, now
that we are settled in the country, Alexey can exercise great
influence. Then there’s Tushkevitch—you have seen him, you know—Betsy’s
admirer. Now he’s been thrown over and he’s come to see us. As Alexey
says, he’s one of those people who are very pleasant if one accepts
them for what they try to appear to be, _et puis il est comme il faut_,
as Princess Varvara says. Then Veslovsky ... you know him. A very nice
boy,” she said, and a sly smile curved her lips. “What’s this wild
story about him and the Levins? Veslovsky told Alexey about it, and we
don’t believe it. _Il est très gentil et naïf_,” she said again with
the same smile. “Men need occupation, and Alexey needs a circle, so I
value all these people. We have to have the house lively and gay, so
that Alexey may not long for any novelty. Then you’ll see the steward—a
German, a very good fellow, and he understands his work. Alexey has a
very high opinion of him. Then the doctor, a young man, not quite a
Nihilist perhaps, but you know, eats with his knife ... but a very good
doctor. Then the architect.... _Une petite cour!_”
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