ANNA KARENINA
PART 12
PART TWO
Chapter 1
At the end
of the winter, in the Shtcherbatskys’ house, a consultation was being held,
which was to pronounce on the state of Kitty’s health and the measures to be
taken to restore her failing strength. She had been ill, and as spring came on
she grew worse. The family doctor gave her cod liver oil, then iron, then
nitrate of silver, but as the first and the second and the third were alike in
doing no good, and as his advice when spring came was to go abroad, a
celebrated physician was called in. The celebrated physician, a very handsome
man, still youngish, asked to examine the patient. He maintained, with peculiar
satisfaction, it seemed, that maiden modesty is a mere relic of barbarism, and
that nothing could be more natural than for a man still youngish to handle a
young girl naked. He thought it natural because he did it every day, and felt
and thought, as it seemed to him, no harm as he did it and consequently he
considered modesty in the girl not merely as a relic of barbarism, but also as
an insult to himself.
There was
nothing for it but to submit, since, although all the doctors had studied in
the same school, had read the same books, and learned the same science, and
though some people said this celebrated doctor was a bad doctor, in the
princess’s household and circle it was for some reason accepted that this
celebrated doctor alone had some special knowledge, and that he alone could
save Kitty. After a careful examination and sounding of the bewildered patient,
dazed with shame, the celebrated doctor, having scrupulously washed his hands,
was standing in the drawing-room talking to the prince. The prince frowned and
coughed, listening to the doctor. As a man who had seen something of life, and
neither a fool nor an invalid, he had no faith in medicine, and in his heart
was furious at the whole farce, specially as he was perhaps the only one who
fully comprehended the cause of Kitty’s illness. “Conceited blockhead!” he
thought, as he listened to the celebrated doctor’s chatter about his daughter’s
symptoms. The doctor was meantime with difficulty restraining the expression of
his contempt for this old gentleman, and with difficulty condescending to the
level of his intelligence. He perceived that it was no good talking to the old
man, and that the principal person in the house was the mother. Before her he
decided to scatter his pearls. At that instant the princess came into the
drawing-room with the family doctor. The prince withdrew, trying not to show
how ridiculous he thought the whole performance. The princess was distracted,
and did not know what to do. She felt she had sinned against Kitty.
“Well,
doctor, decide our fate,” said the princess. “Tell me everything.”
“Is there
hope?” she meant to say, but her lips quivered, and she could not utter the
question. “Well, doctor?”
“Immediately,
princess. I will talk it over with my colleague, and then I will have the honour
of laying my opinion before you.”
“So we had
better leave you?”
“As you
please.”
The
princess went out with a sigh.
When the
doctors were left alone, the family doctor began timidly explaining his
opinion, that there was a commencement of tuberculous trouble, but ... and so
on. The celebrated doctor listened to him, and in the middle of his sentence
looked at his big gold watch.
“Yes,”
said he. “But....”
The family
doctor respectfully ceased in the middle of his observations.
“The
commencement of the tuberculous process we are not, as you are aware, able to
define; till there are cavities, there is nothing definite. But we may suspect
it. And there are indications; malnutrition, nervous excitability, and so on.
The question stands thus: in presence of indications of tuberculous process,
what is to be done to maintain nutrition?”
“But, you
know, there are always moral, spiritual causes at the back in these cases,” the
family doctor permitted himself to interpolate with a subtle smile.
“Yes,
that’s an understood thing,” responded the celebrated physician, again glancing
at his watch. “Beg pardon, is the Yausky bridge done yet, or shall I have to
drive around?” he asked. “Ah! it is. Oh, well, then I can do it in twenty
minutes. So we were saying the problem may be put thus: to maintain nutrition
and to give tone to the nerves. The one is in close connection with the other,
one must attack both sides at once.”
“And how
about a tour abroad?” asked the family doctor.
“I’ve no
liking for foreign tours. And take note: if there is an early stage of
tuberculous process, of which we cannot be certain, a foreign tour will be of
no use. What is wanted is means of improving nutrition, and not for lowering
it.” And the celebrated doctor expounded his plan of treatment with Soden
waters, a remedy obviously prescribed primarily on the ground that they could
do no harm.
The family
doctor listened attentively and respectfully.
“But in favour
of foreign travel I would urge the change of habits, the removal from
conditions calling up reminiscences. And then the mother wishes it,” he added.
“Ah! Well,
in that case, to be sure, let them go. Only, those German quacks are
mischievous.... They ought to be persuaded.... Well, let them go then.”
He glanced
once more at his watch.
“Oh!
time’s up already,” And he went to the door. The celebrated doctor announced to
the princess (a feeling of what was due from him dictated his doing so) that he
ought to see the patient once more.
“What!
another examination!” cried the mother, with horror.
“Oh, no,
only a few details, princess.”
“Come this
way.”
And the
mother, accompanied by the doctor, went into the drawing-room to Kitty. Wasted
and flushed, with a peculiar glitter in her eyes, left there by the agony of
shame she had been put through, Kitty stood in the middle of the room. When the
doctor came in she flushed crimson, and her eyes filled with tears. All her
illness and treatment struck her as a thing so stupid, ludicrous even!
Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd as putting together the pieces of a
broken vase. Her heart was broken. Why would they try to cure her with pills
and powders? But she could not grieve her mother, especially as her mother
considered herself to blame.
“May I
trouble you to sit down, princess?” the celebrated doctor said to her.
He sat
down with a smile, facing her, felt her pulse, and again began asking her
tiresome questions. She answered him, and all at once got up, furious.
“Excuse
me, doctor, but there is really no object in this. This is the third time
you’ve asked me the same thing.”
The
celebrated doctor did not take offense.
“Nervous
irritability,” he said to the princess, when Kitty had left the room. “However,
I had finished....”
And the
doctor began scientifically explaining to the princess, as an exceptionally intelligent
woman, the condition of the young princess, and concluded by insisting on the
drinking of the waters, which were certainly harmless. At the question: Should
they go abroad? the doctor plunged into deep meditation, as though resolving a
weighty problem. Finally his decision was pronounced: they were to go abroad,
but to put no faith in foreign quacks, and to apply to him in any need.
It seemed
as though some piece of good fortune had come to pass after the doctor had
gone. The mother was much more cheerful when she went back to her daughter, and
Kitty pretended to be more cheerful. She had often, almost always, to be
pretending now.
“Really,
I’m quite well, mamma. But if you want to go abroad, let’s go!” she said, and
trying to appear interested in the proposed tour, she began talking of the
preparations for the journey.
Chapter 2
Soon after
the doctor, Dolly had arrived. She knew that there was to be a consultation
that day, and though she was only just up after her confinement (she had another
baby, a little girl, born at the end of the winter), though she had trouble and
anxiety enough of her own, she had left her tiny baby and a sick child, to come
and hear Kitty’s fate, which was to be decided that day.
“Well,
well?” she said, coming into the drawing-room, without taking off her hat.
“You’re all in good spirits. Good news, then?”
They tried
to tell her what the doctor had said, but it appeared that though the doctor
had talked distinctly enough and at great length, it was utterly impossible to
report what he had said. The only point of interest was that it was settled
they should go abroad.
Dolly
could not help sighing. Her dearest friend, her sister, was going away. And her
life was not a cheerful one. Her relations with Stepan Arkadyevitch after their
reconciliation had become humiliating. The union Anna had cemented turned out
to be of no solid character, and family harmony was breaking down again at the
same point. There had been nothing definite, but Stepan Arkadyevitch was hardly
ever at home; money, too, was hardly ever forthcoming, and Dolly was
continually tortured by suspicions of infidelity, which she tried to dismiss,
dreading the agonies of jealousy she had been through already. The first
onslaught of jealousy, once lived through, could never come back again, and
even the discovery of infidelities could never now affect her as it had the
first time. Such a discovery now would only mean breaking up family habits, and
she let herself be deceived, despising him and still more herself, for the
weakness. Besides this, the care of her large family was a constant worry to
her: first, the nursing of her young baby did not go well, then the nurse had
gone away, now one of the children had fallen ill.
“Well, how
are all of you?” asked her mother.
“Ah,
mamma, we have plenty of troubles of our own. Lili is ill, and I’m afraid it’s
scarlatina. I have come here now to hear about Kitty, and then I shall shut
myself up entirely, if—God forbid—it should be scarlatina.”
The old
prince too had come in from his study after the doctor’s departure, and after
presenting his cheek to Dolly, and saying a few words to her, he turned to his
wife:
“How have
you settled it? you’re going? Well, and what do you mean to do with me?”
“I suppose
you had better stay here, Alexander,” said his wife.
“That’s as
you like.”
“Mamma,
why shouldn’t father come with us?” said Kitty. “It would be nicer for him and
for us too.”
The old
prince got up and stroked Kitty’s hair. She lifted her head and looked at him
with a forced smile. It always seemed to her that he understood her better than
anyone in the family, though he did not say much about her. Being the youngest,
she was her father’s favourite, and she fancied that his love gave him insight.
When now her glance met his blue kindly eyes looking intently at her, it seemed
to her that he saw right through her, and understood all that was not good that
was passing within her. Reddening, she stretched out towards him expecting a
kiss, but he only patted her hair and said:
“These
stupid chignons! There’s no getting at the real daughter. One simply strokes
the bristles of dead women. Well, Dolinka,” he turned to his elder daughter,
“what’s your young buck about, hey?”
“Nothing,
father,” answered Dolly, understanding that her husband was meant. “He’s always
out; I scarcely ever see him,” she could not resist adding with a sarcastic
smile.
“Why,
hasn’t he gone into the country yet—to see about selling that forest?”
“No, he’s
still getting ready for the journey.”
“Oh,
that’s it!” said the prince. “And so am I to be getting ready for a journey
too? At your service,” he said to his wife, sitting down. “And I tell you what,
Katia,” he went on to his younger daughter, “you must wake up one fine day and
say to yourself: Why, I’m quite well, and merry, and going out again with
father for an early morning walk in the frost. Hey?”
What her
father said seemed simple enough, yet at these words Kitty became confused and
overcome like a detected criminal. “Yes, he sees it all, he understands it all,
and in these words he’s telling me that though I’m ashamed, I must get over my
shame.” She could not pluck up spirit to make any answer. She tried to begin,
and all at once burst into tears, and rushed out of the room.
“See what
comes of your jokes!” the princess pounced down on her husband. “You’re
always....” she began a string of reproaches.
The prince
listened to the princess’s scolding rather a long while without speaking, but
his face was more and more frowning.
“She’s so
much to be pitied, poor child, so much to be pitied, and you don’t feel how it
hurts her to hear the slightest reference to the cause of it. Ah! to be so
mistaken in people!” said the princess, and by the change in her tone both
Dolly and the prince knew she was speaking of Vronsky. “I don’t know why there
aren’t laws against such base, dishonourable people.”
“Ah, I
can’t bear to hear you!” said the prince gloomily, getting up from his low
chair, and seeming anxious to get away, yet stopping in the doorway. “There are
laws, madam, and since you’ve challenged me to it, I’ll tell you who’s to blame
for it all: you and you, you and nobody else. Laws against such young gallants
there have always been, and there still are! Yes, if there has been nothing
that ought not to have been, old as I am, I’d have called him out to the
barrier, the young dandy. Yes, and now you physic her and call in these
quacks.”
The prince
apparently had plenty more to say, but as soon as the princess heard his tone
she subsided at once, and became penitent, as she always did on serious
occasions.
“Alexander,
Alexander,” she whispered, moving to him and beginning to weep.
As soon as
she began to cry the prince too calmed down. He went up to her.
“There,
that’s enough, that’s enough! You’re wretched too, I know. It can’t be helped.
There’s no great harm done. God is merciful ... thanks....” he said, not
knowing what he was saying, as he responded to the tearful kiss of the princess
that he felt on his hand. And the prince went out of the room.
Before
this, as soon as Kitty went out of the room in tears, Dolly, with her motherly,
family instincts, had promptly perceived that here a woman’s work lay before
her, and she prepared to do it. She took off her hat, and, morally speaking,
tucked up her sleeves and prepared for action. While her mother was attacking
her father, she tried to restrain her mother, so far as filial reverence would
allow. During the prince’s outburst she was silent; she felt ashamed for her
mother, and tender towards her father for so quickly being kind again. But when
her father left them she made ready for what was the chief thing needful—to go
to Kitty and console her.
“I’d been
meaning to tell you something for a long while, mamma: did you know that Levin
meant to make Kitty an offer when he was here the last time? He told Stiva so.”
“Well,
what then? I don’t understand....”
“So did
Kitty perhaps refuse him?... She didn’t tell you so?”
“No, she
has said nothing to me either of one or the other; she’s too proud. But I know
it’s all on account of the other.”
“Yes, but
suppose she has refused Levin, and she wouldn’t have refused him if it hadn’t
been for the other, I know. And then, he has deceived her so horribly.”
It was too
terrible for the princess to think how she had sinned against her daughter, and
she broke out angrily.
“Oh, I
really don’t understand! Nowadays they will all go their own way, and mothers
haven’t a word to say in anything, and then....”
“Mamma,
I’ll go up to her.”
“Well, do.
Did I tell you not to?” said her mother.
Chapter 3
When she
went into Kitty’s little room, a pretty, pink little room, full of knick-knacks
in vieux saxe, as fresh, and pink, and white, and gay as Kitty herself
had been two months ago, Dolly remembered how they had decorated the room the
year before together, with what love and gaiety. Her heart turned cold when she
saw Kitty sitting on a low chair near the door, her eyes fixed immovably on a
corner of the rug. Kitty glanced at her sister, and the cold, rather
ill-tempered expression of her face did not change.
“I’m just
going now, and I shall have to keep in and you won’t be able to come to see
me,” said Dolly, sitting down beside her. “I want to talk to you.”
“What
about?” Kitty asked swiftly, lifting her head in dismay.
“What
should it be, but your trouble?”
“I have no
trouble.”
“Nonsense,
Kitty. Do you suppose I could help knowing? I know all about it. And believe
me, it’s of so little consequence.... We’ve all been through it.”
Kitty did
not speak, and her face had a stern expression.
“He’s not
worth your grieving over him,” pursued Darya Alexandrovna, coming straight to
the point.
“No,
because he has treated me with contempt,” said Kitty, in a breaking voice.
“Don’t talk of it! Please, don’t talk of it!”
“But who
can have told you so? No one has said that. I’m certain he was in love with
you, and would still be in love with you, if it hadn’t....
“Oh, the
most awful thing of all for me is this sympathizing!” shrieked Kitty, suddenly
flying into a passion. She turned round on her chair, flushed crimson, and
rapidly moving her fingers, pinched the clasp of her belt first with one hand
and then with the other. Dolly knew this trick her sister had of clenching her
hands when she was much excited; she knew, too, that in moments of excitement
Kitty was capable of forgetting herself and saying a great deal too much, and
Dolly would have soothed her, but it was too late.
“What,
what is it you want to make me feel, eh?” said Kitty quickly. “That I’ve been
in love with a man who didn’t care a straw for me, and that I’m dying of love
for him? And this is said to me by my own sister, who imagines that ... that
... that she’s sympathizing with me!... I don’t want these condolences and
humbug!”
“Kitty,
you’re unjust.”
“Why are
you tormenting me?”
“But I ...
quite the contrary ... I see you’re unhappy....”
But Kitty
in her fury did not hear her.
“I’ve
nothing to grieve over and be comforted about. I am too proud ever to allow
myself to care for a man who does not love me.”
“Yes, I
don’t say so either.... Only one thing. Tell me the truth,” said Darya
Alexandrovna, taking her by the hand: “tell me, did Levin speak to you?...”
The
mention of Levin’s name seemed to deprive Kitty of the last vestige of
self-control. She leaped up from her chair, and flinging her clasp on the
ground, she gesticulated rapidly with her hands and said:
“Why bring
Levin in too? I can’t understand what you want to torment me for. I’ve told
you, and I say it again, that I have some pride, and never, never would I
do as you’re doing—go back to a man who’s deceived you, who has cared for
another woman. I can’t understand it! You may, but I can’t!”
And saying
these words she glanced at her sister, and seeing that Dolly sat silent, her
head mournfully bowed, Kitty, instead of running out of the room as she had
meant to do, sat down near the door, and hid her face in her handkerchief.
The
silence lasted for two minutes: Dolly was thinking of herself. That humiliation
of which she was always conscious came back to her with a peculiar bitterness
when her sister reminded her of it. She had not looked for such cruelty in her
sister, and she was angry with her. But suddenly she heard the rustle of a
skirt, and with it the sound of heart-rending, smothered sobbing, and felt arms
about her neck. Kitty was on her knees before her.
“Dolinka,
I am so, so wretched!” she whispered penitently. And the sweet face covered
with tears hid itself in Darya Alexandrovna’s skirt.
As though
tears were the indispensable oil, without which the machinery of mutual
confidence could not run smoothly between the two sisters, the sisters after
their tears talked, not of what was uppermost in their minds, but, though they
talked of outside matters, they understood each other. Kitty knew that the
words she had uttered in anger about her husband’s infidelity and her
humiliating position had cut her poor sister to the heart, but that she had
forgiven her. Dolly for her part knew all she had wanted to find out. She felt
certain that her surmises were correct; that Kitty’s misery, her inconsolable
misery, was due precisely to the fact that Levin had made her an offer and she
had refused him, and Vronsky had deceived her, and that she was fully prepared
to love Levin and to detest Vronsky. Kitty said not a word of that; she talked
of nothing but her spiritual condition.
“I have
nothing to make me miserable,” she said, getting calmer; “but can you
understand that everything has become hateful, loathsome, coarse to me, and I
myself most of all? You can’t imagine what loathsome thoughts I have about
everything.”
“Why, whatever
loathsome thoughts can you have?” asked Dolly, smiling.
“The most
utterly loathsome and coarse: I can’t tell you. It’s not unhappiness, or low
spirits, but much worse. As though everything that was good in me was all
hidden away, and nothing was left but the most loathsome. Come, how am I to
tell you?” she went on, seeing the puzzled look in her sister’s eyes. “Father
began saying something to me just now.... It seems to me he thinks all I want
is to be married. Mother takes me to a ball: it seems to me she only takes me
to get me married off as soon as may be, and be rid of me. I know it’s not the
truth, but I can’t drive away such thoughts. Eligible suitors, as they call
them—I can’t bear to see them. It seems to me they’re taking stock of me and summing
me up. In old days to go anywhere in a ball dress was a simple joy to me, I
admired myself; now I feel ashamed and awkward. And then! The doctor....
Then....” Kitty hesitated; she wanted to say further that ever since this
change had taken place in her, Stepan Arkadyevitch had become insufferably
repulsive to her, and that she could not see him without the grossest and most
hideous conceptions rising before her imagination.
“Oh, well,
everything presents itself to me, in the coarsest, most loathsome light,” she
went on. “That’s my illness. Perhaps it will pass off.”
“But you
mustn’t think about it.”
“I can’t
help it. I’m never happy except with the children at your house.”
“What a
pity you can’t be with me!”
“Oh, yes,
I’m coming. I’ve had scarlatina, and I’ll persuade mamma to let me.”
Kitty
insisted on having her way, and went to stay at her sister’s and nursed the
children all through the scarlatina, for scarlatina it turned out to be. The
two sisters brought all the six children successfully through it, but Kitty was
no better in health, and in Lent the Shtcherbatskys went abroad.
To be continued