Part Five: Chapter 15

by Leo Tolstoy

　　They had just come back from Moscow, and were glad to be alone.He was sitting at the writing table in his study, writing. She,wearing the dark lilac dress she had worn during the first daysof their married life, and put on again today, a dressparticularly remembered and loved by him, was sitting on thesofa, the same old-fashioned leather sofa which had always stoodin the study in Levin's father's and grandfather's days. She wassewing at broderie anglaise. He thought and wrote, never losingthe happy consciousness of her presence. His work, both on theland and on the book, in which the principles of the new landsystem were to be laid down, had not been abandoned; but just asformerly these pursuits and ideas had seemed to him petty andtrivial in comparison with the darkness that overspread all life,now they seemed as unimportant and petty in comparison with thelife that lay before him suffused with the brilliant light ofhappiness. He went on with his work, but he felt now that thecenter of gravity of his attention had passed to something else,and that consequently he looked at his work quite differently andmore clearly. Formerly this work had been for him an escape fromlife. Formerly he had felt that without this work his life wouldbe too gloomy. Now these pursuits were necessary for him thatlife might not be too uniformly bright. Taking up hismanuscript, reading through what he had written, he found withpleasure that the work was worth his working at. Many of his oldideas seemed to him superfluous and extreme, but many blanksbecame distinct to him when he reviewed the whole thing in hismemory. He was writing now a new chapter on the causes of thepresent disastrous condition of agriculture in Russia. Hemaintained that the poverty of Russia arises not merely from theanomalous distribution of landed property and misdirectedreforms, but that what had contributed of late years to thisresult was the civilization from without abnormally grafted uponRussia, especially facilities of communication, as railways,leading to centralization in towns, the development of luxury,and the consequent development of manufactures, credit and itsaccompaniment of speculation--all to the detriment ofagriculture. It seemed to him that in a normal development ofwealth in a state all these phenomena would arise only when aconsiderable amount of labor had been put into agriculture, whenit had come under regular, or at least definite, conditions; thatthe wealth of a country ought to increase proportionally, andespecially in such a way that other sources of wealth should notoutstrip agriculture; that in harmony with a certain stage ofagriculture there should be means of communication correspondingto it, and that in our unsettled condition of the land, railways,called into being by political and not by economic needs, werepremature, and instead of promoting agriculture, as was expectedof them, they were competing with agriculture and promoting thedevelopment of manufactures and credit, and so arresting itsprogress; and that just as the one-sided and prematuredevelopment of one organ in an animal would hinder its generaldevelopment, so in the general development of wealth in Russia,credit, facilities of communication, manufacturing activity,indubitably necessary in Europe, where they had arisen in theirproper time, had with us only done harm, by throwing into thebackground the chief question calling for settlement--thequestion of the organization of agriculture.

　　While he was writing his ideas she was thinking how unnaturallycordial her husband had been to young Prince Tcharsky, who had,with great want of tact, flirted with her the day before theyleft Moscow. "He's jealous," she thought. "Goodness! how sweetand silly he is! He's jealous of me! If he knew that I think nomore of them than of Piotr the cook," she thought, looking at hishead and red neck with a feeling of possession strange toherself. "Though it's a pity to take him from his work (but hehas plenty of time!), I must look at his face; will he feel I'mlooking at him? I wish he'd turn round...I'll will him to!"and she opened her eyes wide, as though to intensify theinfluence of her gaze.

　　"Yes, they draw away all the sap and give a false appearance ofprosperity," he muttered, stopping to write, and, feeling thatshe was looking at him and smiling, he looked round.

　　"Well?" he queried, smiling, and getting up.

　　"He looked round," she thought.

　　"It's nothing; I wanted you to look round," she said, watchinghim, and trying to guess whether he was vexed at beinginterrupted or not.

　　"How happy we are alone together!--I am, that is," he said,going up to her with a radiant smile of happiness.

　　"I'm just as happy. I'll never go anywhere, especially not toMoscow."

　　"And what were you thinking about?"

　　"I? I was thinking.... No, no, go along, go on writing; don'tbreak off," she said, pursing up her lips, "and I must cut outthese little holes now, do you see?"

　　She took up her scissors and began cutting them out.

　　"No; tell me, what was it?" he said, sitting down beside her andwatching the tiny scissors moving round.

　　"Oh! what was I thinking about? I was thinking about Moscow,about the back of your head."

　　"Why should I, of all people, have such happiness! It'sunnatural, too good," he said, kissing her hand.

　　"I feel quite the opposite; the better things are, the morenatural it seems to me."

　　"And you've got a little curl loose," he said, carefully turningher head round.

　　"A little curl, oh yes. No, no, we are busy at our work!"

　　Work did not progress further, and they darted apart from oneanother like culprits when Kouzma came in to announce that teawas ready.

　　"Have they come from the town?" Levin asked Kouzma.

　　"They've just come; they're unpacking the things."

　　"Come quickly," she said to him as she went out of the study, "orelse I shall read your letters without you."

　　Left alone, after putting his manuscripts together in the newportfolio bought by her, he washed his hands at the new washstandwith the elegant fittings, that had all made their appearancewith her. Levin smiled at his own thoughts, and shook his headdisapprovingly at those thoughts; a feeling akin to remorsefretted him. There was something shameful, effeminate, Capuan,as he called it to himself, in his present mode of life. "It'snot right to go on like this," he thought. "It'll soon be threemonths, and I'm doing next to nothing. Today, almost for thefirst time, I set to work seriously, and what happened? I didnothing but begin and throw it aside. Even my ordinary pursuitsI have almost given up. On the land I scarcely walk or driveabout at all to look after things. Either I am loath to leaveher, or I see she's dull alone. And I used to think that, beforemarriage, life was nothing much, somehow didn't count, but thatafter marriage, life began in earnest. And here almost threemonths have passed, and I have spent my time so idly andunprofitably. No, this won't do; I must begin. Of course, it'snot her fault. She's not to blame in any way. I ought myself tobe firmer, to maintain my masculine independence of action; orelse I shall get into such ways, and she'll get used to themtoo.... Of course she's not to blame," he told himself.

　　But it is hard for anyone who is dissatisfied not to blamesomeone else, and especially the person nearest of all to him,for the ground of his dissatisfaction. And it vaguely came intoLevin's mind that she herself was not to blame (she could not beto blame for anything), but what was to blame was her education,too superficial and frivolous. ("That fool Tcharsky: she wanted,I know, to stop him, but didn't know how to.") "Yes, apart fromher interest in the house (that she has), apart from dress andbroderie anglaise, she has no serious interests. No interest inher work, in the estate, in the peasants, nor in music, thoughshe's rather good at it, nor in reading. She does nothing, andis perfectly satisfied." Levin, in his heart, censured this, anddid not as yet understand that she was preparing for that periodof activity which was to come for her when she would at once bethe wife of her husband and mistress of the house, and wouldbear, and nurse, and bring up children. He knew not that she wasinstinctively aware of this, and preparing herself for this timeof terrible toil, did not reproach herself for the moments ofcarelessness and happiness in her love that she enjoyed now whilegaily building her nest for the future.