Part Three: Chapter 9

by Leo Tolstoy

　　On the drive home, as Darya Alexandrovna, with all her childrenround her, their heads still wet from their bath, and a kerchieftied over her own head, was getting near the house, the coachmansaid, "There's some gentleman coming: the master of Pokrovskoe,I do believe."

　　Darya Alexandrovna peeped out in front, and was delighted whenshe recognized in the gray hat and gray coat the familiar figureof Levin walking to meet them. She was glad to see him at anytime, but at this moment she was specially glad he should see herin all her glory. No one was better able to appreciate hergrandeur than Levin.

　　Seeing her, he found himself face to face with one of thepictures of his daydream of family life.

　　"You're like a hen with your chickens, Darya Alexandrovna."

　　"Ah, how glad I am to see you!" she said, holding out her handto him.

　　"Glad to see me, but you didn't let me know. My brother'sstaying with me. I got a note from Stiva that you were here."

　　"From Stiva?" Darya Alexandrovna asked with surprise.

　　"Yes; he writes that you are here, and that he thinks you mightallow me to be of use to you," said Levin, and as he said it hebecame suddenly embarrassed, and, stopping abruptly, he walked onin silence by the wagonette, snapping off the buds of thelime trees and nibbling them. He was embarrassed through a sensethat Darya Alexandrovna would be annoyed by receiving from anoutsider help that should by rights have come from her ownhusband. Darya Alexandrovna certainly did not like this littleway of Stepan Arkadyevitch's of foisting his domestic duties onothers. And she was at once aware that Levin was aware of this.It was just for this fineness of perception, for this delicacy,that Darya Alexandrovna liked Levin.

　　"I know, of course," said Levin, "that that simply means that youwould like to see me, and I'm exceedingly glad. Though I canfancy that, used to town housekeeping as you are, you must feelin the wilds here, and if there's anything wanted, I'm altogetherat your disposal."

　　"Oh, no!" said Dolly. "At first things were ratheruncomfortable, but now we've settled everything capitally--thanks to my old nurse," she said, indicating Marya Philimonovna,who, seeing that they were speaking of her, smiled brightly andcordially to Levin. She knew him, and knew that he would be agood match for her young lady, and was very keen to see thematter settled.

　　"Won't you get in, sir, we'll make room this side!" she said tohim.

　　"No, I'll walk. Children, who'd like to race the horses withme?" The children knew Levin very little, and could not rememberwhen they had seen him, but they experienced in regard to himnone of that strange feeling of shyness and hostility whichchildren so often experience towards hypocritical, grown-uppeople, and for which they are so often and miserably punished.Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and mostpenetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizesit, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may bedisguised. Whatever faults Levin had, there was not a trace ofhypocrisy in him, and so the children showed him the samefriendliness that they saw in their mother's face. On hisinvitation, the two elder ones at once jumped out to him and ranwith him as simply as they would have done with their nurse orMiss Hoole or their mother. Lily, too, began begging to go tohim, and her mother handed her to him; he sat her on his shoulderand ran along with her.

　　"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, Darya Alexandrovna!" he said,smiling good-humoredly to the mother; "there's no chance of myhurting or dropping her."

　　And, looking at his strong, agile, assiduously careful andneedlessly wary movements, the mother felt her mind at rest, andsmiled gaily and approvingly as she watched him.

　　Here, in the country, with children, and with Darya Alexandrovna,with whom he was in sympathy, Levin was in a mood not infrequentwith him, of childlike light-heartedness that she particularlyliked in him. As he ran with the children, he taught themgymnastic feats, set Miss Hoole laughing with his queer Englishaccent, and talked to Darya Alexandrovna of his pursuits in thecountry.

　　After dinner, Darya Alexandrovna, sitting alone with him on thebalcony, began to speak of Kitty.

　　"You know, Kitty's coming here, and is going to spend the summerwith me."

　　"Really," he said, flushing, and at once, to change theconversation, he said: "Then I'll send you two cows, shall I? Ifyou insist on a bill you shall pay me five roubles a month; butit's really too bad of you."

　　"No, thank you. We can manage very well now."

　　"Oh, well, then, I'll have a look at your cows, and if you'llallow me, I'll give directions about their food. Everythingdepends on their food."

　　And Levin, to turn the conversation, explained to DaryaAlexandrovna the theory of cow-keeping, based on the principlethat the cow is simply a machine for the transformation of foodinto milk, and so on.

　　He talked of this, and passionately longed to hear more of Kitty,and, at the same time, was afraid of hearing it. He dreaded thebreaking up of the inward peace he had gained with such effort.

　　"Yes, but still all this has to be looked after, and who is thereto look after it?" Darya Alexandrovna responded, withoutinterest.

　　She had by now got her household matters so satisfactorilyarranged, thanks to Marya Philimonovna, that she was disinclinedto make any change in them; besides, she had no faith in Levin'sknowledge of farming. General principles, as to the cow being amachine for the production of milk, she looked on with suspicion.It seemed to her that such principles could only be a hindrancein farm management. It all seemed to her a far simpler matter:all that was needed, as Marya Philimonovna had explained, was togive Brindle and Whitebreast more food and drink, and not to letthe cook carry all the kitchen slops to the laundry maid's cow.That was clear. But general propositions as to feeding on mealand on grass were doubtful and obscure. And, what was mostimportant, she wanted to talk about Kitty.