Anna Karenina - Part 1 - Page 53/119

As he approached her, his beautiful eyes shone with a specially

tender light, and with a faint, happy, and modestly triumphant

smile (so it seemed to Levin), bowing carefully and respectfully

over her, he held out his small broad hand to her.

Greeting and saying a few words to everyone, he sat down without

once glancing at Levin, who had never taken his eyes off him.

"Let me introduce you," said the princess, indicating Levin.

"Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin, Count Alexey Kirillovitch

Vronsky."

Vronsky got up and, looking cordially at Levin, shook hands with

him.

"I believe I was to have dined with you this winter," he said,

smiling his simple and open smile; "but you had unexpectedly left

for the country."

"Konstantin Dmitrievitch despises and hates town and us

townspeople," said Countess Nordston.

"My words must make a deep impression on you, since you remember

them so well," said Levin, and, suddenly conscious that he had

said just the same thing before, he reddened.

Vronsky looked at Levin and Countess Nordston, and smiled.

"Are you always in the country?" he inquired. "I should think it

must be dull in the winter."

"It's not dull if one has work to do; besides, one's not dull by

oneself," Levin replied abruptly.

"I am fond of the country," said Vronsky, noticing, and affecting

not to notice, Levin's tone.

"But I hope, count, you would not consent to live in the country

always," said Countess Nordston.

"I don't know; I have never tried for long. I experienced a queer

feeling once," he went on. "I never longed so for the country,

Russian country, with bast shoes and peasants, as when I was

spending a winter with my mother in Nice. Nice itself is dull

enough, you know. And indeed, Naples and Sorrento are only

pleasant for a short time. And it's just there that Russia comes

back to me most vividly, and especially the country. It's as

though..."

He talked on, addressing both Kitty and Levin, turning his

serene, friendly eyes from one to the other, and saying obviously

just what came into his head.

Noticing that Countess Nordston wanted to say something, he

stopped short without finishing what he had begun, and listened

attentively to her.

The conversation did not flag for an instant, so that the

princess, who always kept in reserve, in case a subject should be

lacking, two heavy guns--the relative advantages of classical

and of modern education, and universal military service--had not

to move out either of them, while Countess Nordston had not a

chance of chaffing Levin.