Here, in the country, with the children and Darya Alexandrovna, who was so sympathetic to him, Levin got into that childishly merry state of mind that often came over him, and which Darya Alexandrovna especially loved in him. He ran with the children, taught them gymnastics, made Miss Hull laugh with his bad English, and told Darya Alexandrovna about his occupations in the country.
After dinner, sitting alone with him on the balcony, Darya Alexandrovna began talking about Kitty.
‘Do you know, Kitty’s coming here and will spend the summer with me.’
‘Really?’ he said, flushing; and to change the subject, said at once: ‘Shall I send you two cows then? If you want to keep accounts, then you can pay me five roubles a month, if you’re not ashamed.’
‘No, thank you. We’re all settled.’
‘Well, then I’ll have a look at your cows and, with your permission, give orders on how to feed them. The whole thing is in the feeding.’
And Levin, only to divert the conversation, explained to Darya Alexandrovna the theory of dairy farming, the essence of which was that a cow is merely a machine for processing feed into milk, and so on.
He was saying that while passionately wishing to hear the details about Kitty and at the same time fearing it. He was afraid that the peace he had attained with such difficulty might be disturbed.
‘Yes, but anyhow all that has to be looked after, and who will do it?’ Darya Alexandrovna replied reluctantly.
She had now set up her housekeeping so well through Matryona Filimonovna that she did not want to change anything in it; nor did she trust Levin’s knowledge of agriculture. The argument that a cow is a machine for producing milk was suspect to her. It seemed to her that such arguments could only hinder things. To her it all seemed much simpler: as Matryona Filimonovna explained, they had only to give Spotty and Whiterump more to eat and drink, and keep the cook from taking the kitchen scraps to the washerwoman’s cow. That was clear. And all this talk about starchy and grassy feeds was dubious and vague. Above all she wanted to talk about Kitty.
X
‘Kitty writes to me that she wishes for nothing so much as solitude and quiet,’ Dolly said after the ensuing pause.
‘And has her health improved?’ Levin asked anxiously.
‘Thank God, she’s quite recovered. I never believed she had anything wrong with her lungs.’
‘Ah, I’m very glad!’ said Levin, and it seemed to Dolly that there was something touching and helpless in his face as he said it and silently looked at her.
‘Listen, Konstantin Dmitrich,’ said Darya Alexandrovna, smiling her kind and slightly mocking smile, ‘why are you angry with Kitty?’
‘I? I’m not angry,’ said Levin.
‘No, you are angry. Why didn’t you come either to see us or to see them when you were in Moscow?’
‘Darya Alexandrovna,’ he said, blushing to the roots of his hair, ‘I’m even astonished that you, with all your kindness, don’t feel it. Aren’t you simply sorry for me, since you know ...’
‘What do I know?’
‘You know that I proposed and was refused,’ said Levin, and all the tenderness he had felt for Kitty a moment before was replaced in his soul by a feeling of anger at the insult.
‘Why do you think I know?’
‘Because everybody knows.’
‘There you’re mistaken; I didn’t know, though I guessed.’
‘Ah! Well, now you know.’
‘I knew only that there was something, but Kitty never told me what it was. I could see that there was something that tormented her terribly, and she asked me never to speak of it. And if she didn’t tell me, she didn’t tell anybody. But what happened between you? Tell me.’
‘I’ve told you what happened.’
‘When was it?’
‘When I last visited you.’
‘And, you know, I shall tell you,’ said Darya Alexandrovna, ‘that I’m terribly, terribly sorry for her. You only suffer from pride ...’
‘Maybe,’ said Levin, ‘but...’
She interrupted him:
‘But for her, poor thing, I’m terribly, terribly sorry. Now I understand everything.’
‘Well, Darya Alexandrovna, you will excuse me,’ he said, getting up. ‘Goodbye! Goodbye, Darya Alexandrovna.’
‘No, wait,’ she said, holding him by the sleeve. ‘Wait, sit down.’
‘Please, please, let’s not talk about it,’ he said, sitting down and at the same time feeling a hope he had thought buried rising and stirring in his heart.
‘If I didn’t love you,’ said Darya Alexandrovna, and tears welled up in her eyes, ‘if I didn’t know you as I do ...’
The feeling that had seemed dead revived more and more, rising and taking possession of Levin’s heart.
‘Yes, I understand everything now,’ Darya Alexandrovna went on. ‘You can’t understand it. For you men, who are free and can choose, it’s always clear whom you love. But a young girl in a state of expectation, with that feminine, maidenly modesty, a girl who sees you men from afar, who takes everything on trust - a girl may and does sometimes feel that she doesn’t know who she loves or what to say.’
‘Yes, if her heart doesn’t speak ...’
