He listened to Agafya Mikhailovna’s talk of how Prokhor had forgotten God and, with the money Levin had given him to buy a horse, was drinking incessantly and had beaten his wife almost to death; he listened, read the book and remembered the whole course of his thoughts evoked by the reading. This was a book by Tyndall39 on heat. He remembered his disapproval of Tyndall for his self-satisfaction over the cleverness of his experiments and for his lack of a philosophical outlook. And suddenly a joyful thought would surface: ‘In two years I’ll have two Frisian cows in my herd, Pava herself may still be alive, twelve young daughters from Berkut, plus these three to show off - wonderful!’ He picked up his book again.
‘Well, all right, electricity and heat are the same: but is it possible to solve a problem by substituting one quantity for another in an equation? No. Well, what then? The connection between all the forces of nature is felt instinctively as it is ... It’ll be especially nice when Pava’s daughter is already a spotted red cow, and the whole herd, with these three thrown in ... Splendid! To go out with my wife and guests to meet the herd ... My wife will say: “Kostya and I tended this calf like a child.” “How can it interest you so?” a guest will say. “Everything that interests him interests me.” But who is she?’ And he remembered what had happened in Moscow ... ‘Well, what to do? ... I’m not to blame. But now everything will take a new course. It’s nonsense that life won’t allow it, that the past won’t allow it. I must fight to live a better life, much better ...’ He raised his head and pondered. Old Laska, who had not yet quite digested the joy of his arrival and had gone to run around the yard and bark, came back wagging her tail, bringing with her the smell of outdoors, went over to him and thrust her head under his hand, making pitiful little whines and demanding to be patted.
‘She all but speaks,’ said Agafya Mikhailovna. ‘Just a dog ... But she understands that her master’s come back and is feeling sad.’
‘Why sad?’
‘Don’t I see it, dear? I ought to know my gentry by now. I grew up among gentry from early on. Never mind, dear. As long as you’ve got your health and a clear conscience.’
Levin looked at her intently, surprised that she understood his thoughts.
‘Well, should I bring more tea?’ she said, and, taking the cup, she went out.
Laska kept thrusting her head under his hand. He patted her, and she curled up just at his feet, placing her head on a stretched-out hind leg. And as a sign that all was well and good now, she opened her mouth slightly, smacked her sticky lips, and, settling them better around her old teeth, lapsed into blissful peace. Levin watched these last movements attentively.
‘I’m just the same!’ he said to himself, ‘just the same! Never mind ... All is well.’
XXVIII
Early on the morning after the ball, Anna Arkadyevna sent her husband a telegram about her departure from Moscow that same day.
‘No, I must, I must go.’ She explained the change of her intentions to her sister-in-law in such a tone as if she had remembered countless things she had to do. ‘No, I’d better go today!’
Stepan Arkadyich did not dine at home, but promised to come at seven o‘clock to see his sister off.
Kitty also did not come, sending a note that she had a headache. Dolly and Anna dined alone with the children and the English governess. Because children are either inconstant or else very sensitive and could feel that Anna was different that day from when they had come to love her so, that she was no longer concerned with them - in any case they suddenly stopped playing with their aunt and loving her, and were quite unconcerned about her leaving. All morning Anna was busy with the preparations for the departure. She wrote notes to Moscow acquaintances, jotted down her accounts, and packed. Generally, it seemed to Dolly that she was not in calm spirits, but in that state of anxiety Dolly knew so well in herself, which comes not without reason and most often covers up displeasure with oneself. After dinner Anna went to her room to dress and Dolly followed her.
‘You’re so strange today!’ Dolly said to her.
‘I? You think so? I’m not strange, I’m bad. It happens with me. I keep wanting to weep. It’s very stupid, but it passes,’ Anna said quickly and bent her reddened face to the tiny bag into which she was packing a nightcap and some cambric handkerchiefs. Her eyes had a peculiar shine and kept filling with tears. ‘I was so reluctant to leave Petersburg, and now - to leave here.’
‘You came here and did a good deed,’ said Dolly, studying her intently.
Anna looked at her with eyes wet with tears.
‘Don’t say that, Dolly. I didn’t do anything and couldn’t do anything. I often wonder why people have all decided to spoil me. What have I done, and what could I have done? You found enough love in your heart to forgive ...’
