Anna Karenina

by Leo Tolstoy

  'Yes, that goes without saying,' the famous doctor replied, glancing at his watch again. 'Excuse me, has the Yauza bridge been put up, or must one still go round?' he asked. 'Ah, put up! Well, then I can make it in twenty minutes. So, as we were saying, the question is put thus: to maintain the appetite and repair the nerves. The one is connected with the other, we must work on both sides of the circle.'

  'And a trip abroad?' asked the family doctor.

  'I am an enemy of trips abroad. And kindly note: if there is the start of a tubercular condition, which is something we cannot know, then a trip abroad will not help. What's needed is a remedy that will maintain the appetite without being harmful.'

  And the famous doctor presented his plan of treatment by Soden waters, the main aim in the prescription of which evidently being that they could do no harm.

  The family doctor listened attentively and respectfully.

  'But in favour of a trip abroad I would point to the change of habits, the removal from conditions evoking memories. Then, too, the mother wants it,' he said.

  'Ah! Well, in that case let them go; only, those German charlatans will do harm ... They must listen to ... Well, then let them go.'

  He glanced at his watch again.

  'Oh! it's time,' and he went to the door.

  The famous doctor announced to the princess (a sense of propriety prompted it) that he must see the patient again.

  'What! Another examination!' the mother exclaimed with horror.

  'Oh, no, just a few details, Princess.'

  'If you please.'

  And the mother, accompanied by the doctor, went to Kitty in the drawing room. Emaciated and red-cheeked, with a special glitter in her eyes as a result of the shame she had endured, Kitty was standing in the middle of the room. When the doctor entered she blushed and her eyes filled with tears. Her whole illness and treatment seemed to her such a stupid, even ridiculous thing! Her treatment seemed to her as ridiculous as putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken. And what did they want to do, treat her with pills and powders? But she could not insult her mother, especially since her mother considered herself to blame.

  'Kindly sit down, miss,' said the famous doctor.

  He sat down facing her with a smile, felt her pulse, and again began asking tiresome questions. She kept answering him, but suddenly got angry and stood up.

  'Forgive me, doctor, but this really will not lead anywhere. You ask me the same thing three times over.'

  The famous doctor was not offended.

  'Morbid irritation,' he said to the old princess when Kitty had gone. 'Anyhow, I was finished ...' And to the princess, as to an exceptionally intelligent woman, the doctor scientifically defined her daughter's condition and concluded with instructions on how to drink those waters of which there was no need. At the question of going abroad, the doctor lapsed into deep thought, as if solving a difficult problem. The solution was finally presented: go, and do not believe the charlatans, but refer to him in all things.

  It was as if something cheerful happened after the doctor's departure. The mother cheered up as she came back to her daughter, and Kitty pretended to cheer up. She often, almost always, had to pretend now.

  'I'm really well, maman. But if you want to go, let's go!' she said, and, trying to show interest in the forthcoming trip, she began talking about the preparations for their departure.

  II

  After the doctor left, Dolly arrived. She knew there was to be a consultation that day, and though she had only recently got up from a confinement (she had given birth to a girl at the end of winter), though she had many griefs and cares of her own, she left her nursing baby and a daughter who had fallen ill, and called to learn Kitty's fate, which was being decided just then.

  'Well, so?' she said, coming into the drawing room and not taking off her hat. 'You're all cheerful. Must be good news?'

  They tried to tell her what the doctor had told them, but it turned out that though the doctor had spoken very well and at length, it was quite impossible to repeat what he had said. The only interesting thing was that it had been decided to go abroad.

  Dolly sighed involuntarily. Her best friend, her sister, was leaving. And there was no cheer in her own life. Her relations with Stepan Arkadyich after the reconciliation had become humiliating. The welding, done by Anna, had not proved strong, and the family accord had broken again at the same place. There was nothing definite, but Stepan Arkadyich was almost never at home, there was also almost never any money in the house, and Dolly was constantly tormented by suspicions of his unfaithfulness, which this time she tried to drive away, fearing the already familiar pain of jealousy. The first outburst of jealousy, once lived through, could not come again, and even the discovery of unfaithfulness could not affect her as it had the first time. Such a discovery would now only deprive her of her family habits, and she allowed herself to be deceived, despising him and most of all herself for this weakness. On top of that, the cares of a large family constantly tormented her: either the nursing of the baby did not go well, or the nanny left, or, as now, one of the children fell ill.

  'And how are all yours?' her mother asked.

  'Ah, maman, you have enough grief of your own. Lily has fallen ill, and I'm afraid it's scarlet fever. I came now just to find out the news, and then, God forbid, if it is scarlet fever, I'll stay put and not go anywhere.'

  The old prince also came out of his study after the doctor's departure, and having offered Dolly his cheek and said a word to her, turned to his wife:

  'What's the decision, are you going? Well, and what do you intend to do with me?'

  'I think you should stay, Alexander,' said his wife.

  'As you wish.'

  'Maman, why shouldn't papa come with us?' said Kitty. 'It will be more cheerful for him and for us.'

  The old prince stood up and stroked Kitty's hair with his hand. She raised her face and, smiling forcedly, looked at him. It always seemed to her that he understood her better than anyone else in the family, though he spoke little with her. As the youngest, she was her father's favourite, and it seemed to her that his love for her gave him insight. When her glance now met his kindly blue eyes gazing intently at her, it seemed to her that he saw right through her and understood all the bad that was going on inside her. Blushing, she leaned towards him, expecting a kiss, hut he only patted her hair and said:

  'These stupid chignons! You can't even get to your real daughter, but only caress the hair of dead wenches. Well, Dolinka,' he turned to his eldest daughter, 'what's your trump up to?'

  'Nothing, papa,' answered Dolly, understanding that he meant her husband. 'He goes out all the time, I almost never see him,' she could not help adding with a mocking smile.

  So he hasn't gone to the country yet to sell the wood?'

  'No, he keeps getting ready to.'

  'Really!' said the prince. 'And I, too, must get myself ready? I'm listening, ma'am,' he turned to his wife as he sat down. 'And as for you, Katia,' he added to his youngest daughter, 'sometime or other, you'll have to wake up one fine morning and say to yourself: "Why, I'm perfectly well and cheerful, and I'm going to go with papa again for an early morning walk in the frost." Eh?'

  What her father said seemed so simple, yet Kitty became confused and bewildered at these words, like a caught criminal. 'Yes, he knows everything, understands everything, and with these words he's telling me that, though I'm ashamed, I must get over my shame.' She could not pluck up her spirits enough to make any reply. She tried to begin, but suddenly burst into tears and rushed from the room.

  'You and your jokes!' The princess flew at her husband. 'You always ...' she began her reproachful speech.

  The prince listened for quite a long time to her rebukes and kept silent, but his face frowned more and more.

  'She's so pitiful, the poor dear, so pitiful, and you don't feel how any hint at the cause of it hurts her. Ah, to be so mistaken about other people!' said the princess, a
nd by the change in her tone Dolly and the prince realized that she was speaking of Vronsky. 'I don't understand why there are no laws against such vile, ignoble people.'

  'Ah, I can't listen!' the prince said gloomily, getting up from his armchair and making as if to leave, but stopping in the doorway. 'There are laws, dearest, and since you're calling me out on it, I'll tell you who is to blame for it all: you, you and you alone. There are and always have been laws against such young devils! Yes, ma'am, and if it hadn't been for what should never have been, I, old as I am, would have challenged him to a duel, that fop. Yes, so treat her now, bring in your charlatans.'

  The prince seemed to have much more to say, but as soon as the princess heard his tone, she humbled herself and repented, as always with serious questions.

  'Alexandre, Alexandre,' she whispered, moving closer, and burst into tears.

  As soon as she began to cry, the prince also subsided. He went over to her.

  'Well, there, there! It's hard for you, too, I know. What can we do? It's no great calamity. God is merciful ... give thanks . ..' he said, no longer knowing what he was saying, in response to the princess's wet kiss, which he felt on his hand, and he left the room.

  When Kitty left the room in tears, Dolly, with her motherly, family habit of mind, saw at once that there was woman's work to be done, and she prepared to do it. She took off her hat and, morally rolling up her sleeves, prepared for action. During her mother's attack on her father, she tried to restrain her mother as far as daughterly respect permitted. During the prince's outburst, she kept silent; she felt shame for her mother and tenderness towards her father for the instant return of his kindness; but when her father went out, she got ready to do the main thing necessary - to go to Kitty and comfort her.

  'I've long been meaning to tell you, maman: do you know that Levin was going to propose to Kitty when he was here the last time? He told Stiva so.'

  'Well, what of it? I don't understand ...'

  'Maybe Kitty refused him?... She didn't tell you?'

  'No, she told me nothing either about the one or about the other. She's too proud. But I know it's all because of that...'

  'Yes, just imagine if she refused Levin - and she wouldn't have refused him if it hadn't been for the other one, I know ... And then that one deceived her so terribly.'

  It was too awful for the princess to think of how guilty she was before her daughter, and she became angry.

  'Ah, I understand nothing any more! Nowadays they all want to live by their own reason, they tell their mothers nothing, and then look ...'

  'I'll go to her, maman.'

  'Go. Am I forbidding you?' said the mother.

  III

  Entering Kitty's small boudoir, a pretty little pink room, with vieux saxe* dolls as young, pink and gay as Kitty had been just two months earlier, Dolly remembered with what gaiety and love they had decorated this little room together last year. Her heart went cold when she saw Kitty sitting on the low chair nearest the door, staring fixedly at a corner of the rug. Kitty glanced at her sister, and her cold, somewhat severe expression did not change. 'I'll leave now and stay put at home, and you won't be allowed to

  Old Saxony porcelain.

  visit me,' said Darya Alexandrovna, sitting down next to her. 'I'd like to talk with you.'

  'About what?' Kitty asked quickly, raising her eyes in fear.

  'What else if not your grief ?'

  'I have no grief.'

  'Come now, Kitty. Can you really think I don't know? I know everything. And believe me, it's nothing ... We've all gone through it.'

  Kitty was silent, and her face had a stern expression.

  'He's not worth your suffering over him,' Darya Alexandrovna went on, going straight to the point.

  'Yes, because he scorned me,' Kitty said in a quavering voice. 'Don't talk about it! Please don't!'

  'Why, who told you that? No one said that. I'm sure he was in love with you, and is still in love, but...'

  'Ah, these condolences are the most terrible thing of all for me!' Kitty cried out, suddenly getting angry. She turned on her chair, blushed, and quickly moved her fingers, clutching the belt buckle she was holding now with one hand, now with the other. Dolly knew this way her sister had of grasping something with her hands when she was in a temper; she knew that Kitty was capable of forgetting herself in such a moment and saying a lot of unnecessary and unpleasant things, and Dolly wanted to calm her down. But it was already too late.

  'What, what is it you want to make me feel, what?' Kitty was talking quickly. 'That I was in love with a man who cared nothing for me, and that I'm dying of love for him? And I'm told this by my sister, who thinks that... that... that she's commiserating! ... I don't want these pityings and pretences!'

  'Kitty, you're unfair.'

  'Why do you torment me?'

  'On the contrary, I... I see that you're upset...'

  But, in her temper, Kitty did not hear her.

  'I have nothing to be distressed or comforted about. I'm proud enough never to allow myself to love a man who does not love me.'

  'But I'm not saying ... One thing - tell me the truth,' Darya Alexandrovna said, taking her hand, 'tell me, did Levin speak to you?...'

  The mention of Levin seemed to take away the last of Kitty's self-possession; she jumped up from the chair, flinging the buckle to the floor and, with quick gestures of her hands, began to speak:

  'Why bring Levin into it, too? I don't understand, why do you need torment me? I said and I repeat that I'm proud and would never, never do what you're doing - go back to a man who has betrayed you, who has fallen in love with another woman. I don't understand, I don't understand that! You may, but I can't!'

  And, having said these words, she glanced at her sister and, seeing that Dolly kept silent, her head bowed sadly, Kitty, instead of leaving the room as she had intended, sat down by the door and, covering her face with a handkerchief, bowed her head.

  The silence lasted for some two minutes. Dolly was thinking about herself. Her humiliation, which she always felt, echoed especially painfully in her when her sister reminded her of it. She had not expected such cruelty from her sister and was angry with her. But suddenly she heard the rustling of a dress, along with the sound of suppressed sobs bursting out, and someone's arms encircled her neck from below. Kitty was kneeling before her.

  'Dolinka, I'm so, so unhappy!' she whispered guiltily.

  And she hid her sweet, tear-bathed face in Darya Alexandrovna's skirts.

  As if tears were the necessary lubricant without which the machine of mutual communication could not work successfully, the two sisters, after these tears, started talking, not about what preoccupied them, but about unrelated things, and yet they understood each other. Kitty understood that her poor sister had been struck to the depths of her heart by the words she had spoken in passion about her husband's unfaithfulness and her humiliation, but that she forgave her. Dolly, for her part, understood everything she had wanted to know; she was satisfied that her guesses were right, that Kitty's grief, her incurable grief, was precisely that Levin had made a proposal and that she had refused him, while Vronsky had deceived her, and that she was ready to love Levin and hate Vronsky. Kitty did not say a word about it; she spoke only of her state of mind.

  'I have no grief,' she said, once she had calmed down, 'but can you understand that everything has become vile, disgusting, coarse to me, and my own self first of all? You can't imagine what vile thoughts I have about everything.'

  'Why, what kind of vile thoughts could you have?' Dolly asked, smiling.

  'The most, most vile and coarse -I can't tell you. It's not anguish, or boredom, it's much worse. As if all that was good in me got hidden, and only what's most vile was left. Well, how can I tell you?' she went on, seeing the perplexity in her sister's eyes. 'Papa started saying to me just now... it seems to me all he thinks is that I've got to get married. Mama takes me to a ball: it seems to me she only takes me in order to get
me married quickly and be rid of me. I know it's not true, but I can't drive these thoughts away. The so-called suitors I can't even look at. It seems as if they're taking my measurements. Before it was simply a pleasure for me to go somewhere in a ball gown, I admired myself; now I feel ashamed, awkward. Well, what do you want! The doctor ... Well...'

  Kitty faltered; she wanted to go on to say that ever since this change had taken place in her, Stepan Arkadyich had become unbearably disagreeable to her, and that she could not see him without picturing the most coarse and ugly things.

  'Well, yes, I picture things in the most coarse, vile way,' she went on. 'It's my illness. Maybe it will pass ...'

  'But don't think ...'

  'I can't help it. I feel good only with children, only in your house.'

  'It's too bad you can't visit me.'

  'No, I will come. I've had scarlet fever, and I'll persuade maman.'

  Kitty got her way and moved to her sister's, and there spent the whole time of the scarlet fever, which did come, taking care of the children. The two sisters nursed all six children back to health, but Kitty's condition did not improve, and during the Great Lent[1] the Shcherbatskys went abroad.