Anna Karenina - Part 1 - Page 81/119

Kitty had been seeing Anna every day; she adored her, and had

pictured her invariably in lilac. But now seeing her in black,

she felt that she had not fully seen her charm. She saw her now

as someone quite new and surprising to her. Now she understood

that Anna could not have been in lilac, and that her charm was

just that she always stood out against her attire, that her dress

could never be noticeable on her. And her black dress, with its

sumptuous lace, was not noticeable on her; it was only the frame,

and all that was seen was she--simple, natural, elegant, and at

the same time gay and eager.

She was standing holding herself, as always, very erect, and when

Kitty drew near the group she was speaking to the master of the

house, her head slightly turned towards him.

"No, I don't throw stones," she was saying, in answer to

something, "though I can't understand it," she went on, shrugging

her shoulders, and she turned at once with a soft smile of

protection towards Kitty. With a flying, feminine glance she

scanned her attire, and made a movement of her head, hardly

perceptible, but understood by Kitty, signifying approval of her

dress and her looks. "You came into the room dancing," she

added.

"This is one of my most faithful supporters," said Korsunsky,

bowing to Anna Arkadyevna, whom he had not yet seen. "The

princess helps to make balls happy and successful. Anna

Arkadyevna, a waltz?" he said, bending down to her.

"Why, have you met?" inquired their host.

"Is there anyone we have not met? My wife and I are like white

wolves--everyone knows us," answered Korsunsky. "A waltz, Anna

Arkadyevna?"

"I don't dance when it's possible not to dance," she said.

"But tonight it's impossible," answered Korsunsky.

At that instant Vronsky came up.

"Well, since it's impossible tonight, let us start," she said,

not noticing Vronsky's bow, and she hastily put her hand on

Korsunsky's shoulder.

"What is she vexed with him about?" thought Kitty, discerning

that Anna had intentionally not responded to Vronsky's bow.

Vronsky went up to Kitty reminding her of the first quadrille,

and expressing his regret that he had not seen her all this time.

Kitty gazed in admiration at Anna waltzing, and listened to him.

She expected him to ask her for a waltz, but he did not, and she

glanced wonderingly at him. He flushed slightly, and hurriedly

asked her to waltz, but he had only just put his arm round her

waist and taken the first step when the music suddenly stopped.

Kitty looked into his face, which was so close to her own, and

long afterwards--for several years after--that look, full of

love, to which he made no response, cut her to the heart with an

agony of shame.