‘Princess Miagky guessed right,’ thought Stepan Arkadyich, going up the stairs. ‘Strange! However, it would be nice to get friendly with her. She has enormous influence. If she’d put in a word for me with Pomorsky, it would be a sure thing.’
It was still broad daylight outside, but in Countess Lydia’s small drawing room the blinds were already drawn and the lamps lit.
At a round table under a lamp the countess and Alexei Alexandrovich sat talking about something in low voices. A short, lean man with womanish hips and knock-kneed legs, very pale, handsome, with beautiful, shining eyes and long hair falling over the collar of his frock coat, stood at the other end, studying the portraits on the wall. Having greeted the hostess and Alexei Alexandrovich, Stepan Arkadyich involuntarily looked again at the unknown man.
‘Monsieur Landau!’ The countess addressed the man with a softness and carefulness that struck Oblonsky. And she introduced them.
Landau hastily turned, approached and, smiling, placed his inert, sweaty hand into the extended hand of Stepan Arkadyich and immediately went back and began looking at the portraits. The countess and Alexei Alexandrovich exchanged meaningful looks.
‘I’m very glad to see you, especially today,’ said Countess Lydia Ivanovna, pointing Stepan Arkadyich to the place next to Karenin.
‘I introduced him to you as Landau,’ she said in a low voice, glancing at the Frenchman and then at once at Alexei Alexandrovich, ‘but in fact he is Count Bezzubov, as you probably know. Only he doesn’t like the title.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard,’ Stepan Arkadyich replied. ‘They say he cured Countess Bezzubov completely.’
‘She called on me today. She’s so pitiful!’ The countess turned to Alexei Alexandrovich. ‘This parting is terrible for her. Such a blow!’
‘And he’s definitely leaving?’ asked Alexei Alexandrovich.
‘Yes, he’s leaving for Paris. He heard a voice yesterday,’ said Countess Lydia Ivanovna, looking at Stepan Arkadyich.
‘Ah, a voice!’ Oblonsky repeated, feeling that he had to be as careful as possible in this company where something special had taken place, or was about to take place, to which he did not yet have the key.
A momentary silence followed, after which Countess Lydia Ivanovna, as if approaching the main subject of conversation, said to Oblonsky with a subtle smile:
‘I’ve known you for a long time and am very glad to get to know you more closely.
‘In part, Countess, I understand that Alexei Alexandrovich’s position ...’ Oblonsky said, not understanding very well what the matter was and therefore wishing to speak in general.
‘The change is not in his external position,’ Countess Lydia Ivanovna said sternly, at the same time following Alexei Alexandrovich with amorous eyes as he got up and went over to Landau. ‘His heart has changed, a new heart has been given him, and I’m afraid you haven’t quite perceived the change that has taken place in him.’
‘That is, in general terms I can picture the change to myself. We’ve always been friends, and now ...’ Stepan Arkadyich said, responding to the countess’s gaze with a tender gaze of his own and trying to make out which of the two ministers she was closer to, so as to know which one to ask her about.
‘The change that has taken place in him cannot weaken his feelings of love for his neighbours; on the contrary, the change that has taken place in him can only increase his love. But I’m afraid you don’t understand me. Would you like some tea?’ she said, indicating with her eyes the servant who was offering tea on a tray.
‘Not entirely, Countess. Of course, his misfortune ...’
‘Yes, a misfortune that turned into the greatest good fortune, when his heart became new, fulfilled in Him,’ she said, gazing amorously at Stepan Arkadyich.
‘I think I could ask her to put in a word with both of them,’ thought Stepan Arkadyich.
‘Oh, of course, Countess,’ he said, ‘but I think these changes are so intimate that no one, not even the closest person, likes to speak of them.’
‘On the contrary! We must speak and help one another.’
‘Yes, no doubt, but there are such differences of conviction, and besides...’ Oblonsky said with a soft smile.
‘There can be no difference in matters of sacred truth.’
‘Ah, yes, of course, but...’ And, embarrassed, Stepan Arkadyich became silent. He realized that they had got on to religion.
‘I think he’s about to fall asleep,’ Alexei Alexandrovich said in a meaningful whisper, coming up to Lydia Ivanovna.
Stepan Arkadyich turned. Landau was sitting by the window, leaning on the back and armrest of his chair, his head bowed. Noticing the eyes directed at him, he raised his head and smiled a childishly naïve smile.
