Part Two: Chapter 33

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Kitty made the acquaintance of Madame Stahl too, and thisacquaintance, together with her friendship with Varenka, did notmerely exercise a great influence on her, it also comforted herin her mental distress. She found this comfort through acompletely new world being opened to her by means of thisacquaintance, a world having nothing in common with her past, anexalted, noble world, from the height of which she couldcontemplate her past calmly. It was revealed to her that besidesthe instinctive life to which Kitty had given herself up hithertothere was a spiritual life. This life was disclosed in religion,but a religion having nothing in common with that one which Kittyhad known from childhood, and which found expression in litaniesand all-night services at the Widow's Home, where one might meetone's friends, and in learning by heart Slavonic texts with thepriest. This was a lofty, mysterious religion connected with awhole series of noble thoughts and feelings, which one could domore than merely believe because one was told to, which one couldlove.

　　Kitty found all this out not from words. Madame Stahl talked toKitty as to a charming child that one looks on with pleasure ason the memory of one's youth, and only once she said in passingthat in all human sorrows nothing gives comfort but love andfaith, and that in the sight of Christ's compassion for us nosorrow is trifling--and immediately talked of other things. Butin every gesture of Madame Stahl, in every word, in everyheavenly--as Kitty called it--look, and above all in the wholestory of her life, which she heard from Varenka, Kitty recognizedthat something "that was important," of which, till then, she hadknown nothing.

　　Yet, elevated as Madame Stahl's character was, touching as washer story, and exalted and moving as was her speech, Kitty couldnot help detecting in her some traits which perplexed her. Shenoticed that when questioning her about her family, Madame Stahlhad smiled contemptuously, which was not in accord with Christianmeekness. She noticed, too, that when she had found a Catholicpriest with her, Madame Stahl had studiously kept her face in theshadow of the lamp-shade and had smiled in a peculiar way.Trivial as these two observations were, they perplexed her, andshe had her doubts as to Madame Stahl. But on the other handVarenka, alone in the world, without friends or relations, with amelancholy disappointment in the past, desiring nothing,regretting nothing, was just that perfection of which Kitty daredhardly dream. In Varenka she realized that one has but to forgetoneself and love others, and one will be calm, happy, and noble.And that was what Kitty longed to be. Seeing now clearly whatwas the most important, Kitty was not satisfied with beingenthusiastic over it; she at once gave herself up with her wholesoul to the new life that was opening to her. From Varenka'saccounts of the doings of Madame Stahl and other people whom shementioned, Kitty had already constructed the plan of her ownfuture life. She would, like Madame Stahl's niece, Aline, ofwhom Varenka had talked to her a great deal, seek out those whowere in trouble, wherever she might be living, help them as faras she could, give them the Gospel, read the Gospel to the sick,the criminals, to the dying. The idea of reading the Gospel tocriminals, as Aline did, particularly fascinated Kitty. But allthese were secret dreams, of which Kitty did not talk either toher mother or to Varenka.

　　While awaiting the time for carrying out her plans on a largescale, however, Kitty, even then at the springs, where there wereso many people ill and unhappy, readily found a chance forpracticing her new principles in imitation of Varenka.

　　At first the princess noticed nothing but that Kitty was muchunder the influence of her engouement, as she called it, forMadame Stahl, and still more for Varenka. She saw that Kitty didnot merely imitate Varenka in her conduct, but unconsciouslyimitated her in her manner of walking, of talking, of blinkingher eyes. But later on the princess noticed that, apart fromthis adoration, some kind of serious spiritual change was takingplace in her daughter.

　　The princess saw that in the evenings Kitty read a Frenchtestament that Madame Stahl had given her--a thing she had neverdone before; that she avoided society acquaintances andassociated with the sick people who were under Varenka'sprotection, and especially one poor family, that of a sickpainter, Petrov. Kitty was unmistakably proud of playing thepart of a sister of mercy in that family. All this was wellenough, and the princess had nothing to say against it,especially as Petrov's wife was a perfectly nice sort of woman,and that the German princess, noticing Kitty's devotion, praisedher, calling her an angel of consolation. All this would havebeen very well, if there had been no exaggeration. But theprincess saw that her daughter was rushing into extremes, and soindeed she told her.

　　"Il ne faut jamais rien outrer," she said to her.

　　Her daughter made her no reply, only in her heart she thoughtthat one could not talk about exaggeration where Christianity wasconcerned. What exaggeration could there be in the practice of adoctrine wherein one was bidden to turn the other cheek when onewas smitten, and give one's cloak if one's coat were taken? Butthe princess disliked this exaggeration, and disliked even morethe fact that she felt her daughter did not care to show her allher heart. Kitty did in fact conceal her new views and feelingsfrom her mother. She concealed them not because she did notrespect or did not love her mother, but simply because she washer mother. She would have revealed them to anyone sooner thanto her mother.

　　"How is it Anna Pavlovna's not been to see us for so long?" theprincess said one day of Madame Petrova. "I've asked her, butshe seems put out about something."

　　"No, I've not noticed it, maman," said Kitty, flushing hotly.

　　"Is it long since you went to see them?"

　　"We're meaning to make an expedition to the mountains tomorrow,"answered Kitty,

　　"Well, you can go," answered the princess, gazing at herdaughter's embarrassed face and trying to guess the cause of herembarrassment.

　　That day Varenka came to dinner and told them that Anna Pavlovnahad changed her mind and given up the expedition for the morrow.And the princess noticed again that Kitty reddened.

　　"Kitty, haven't you had some misunderstanding with the Petrovs?"said the princess, when they were left alone. "Why has she givenup sending the children and coming to see us?"

　　Kitty answered that nothing had happened between them, and thatshe could not tell why Anna Pavlovna seemed displeased with her.Kitty answered perfectly truly. She did not know the reason AnnaPavlovna had changed to her, but she guessed it. She guessed atsomething which she could not tell her mother, which she did notput into words to herself. It was one of those things which oneknows but which one can never speak of even to oneself soterrible and shameful would it be to be mistaken.

　　Again and again she went over in her memory all her relationswith the family. She remembered the simple delight expressed onthe round, good-humored face of Anna Pavlovna at their meetings;she remembered their secret confabulations about the invalid,their plots to draw him away from the work which was forbiddenhim, and to get him out-of-doors; the devotion of the youngestboy, who used to call her "my Kitty," and would not go to bedwithout her. How nice it all was! Then she recalled the thin,terribly thin figure of Petrov, with his long neck, in his browncoat, his scant, curly hair, his questioning blue eyes that wereso terrible to Kitty at first, and his painful attempts to seemhearty and lively in her presence. She recalled the efforts shehad made at first to overcome the repugnance she felt for him, asfor all consumptive people, and the pains it had cost her tothink of things to say to him. She recalled the timid, softenedlook with which he gazed at her, and the strange feeling ofcompassion and awkwardness, and later of a sense of her owngoodness, which she had felt at it. How nice it all was! Butall that was at first. Now, a few days ago, everything wassuddenly spoiled. Anna Pavlovna had met Kitty with affectedcordiality, and had kept continual watch on her and on herhusband.

　　Could that touching pleasure he showed when she came near be thecause of Anna Pavlovna's coolness?

　　"Yes," she mused, "there was something unnatural about AnnaPavlovna, and utterly unlike her good nature, when she saidangrily the day before yesterday: 'There, he will keep waitingfor you; he wouldn't drink his coffee without you, though he'sgrown so dreadfully weak.' "

　　"Yes, perhaps, too, she didn't like it when I gave him the rug.It was all so simple, but he took it so awkwardly, and was solong thanking me, that I felt awkward too. And then thatportrait of me he did so well. And most of all that look ofconfusion and tenderness! Yes, yes, that's it!" Kitty repeatedto herself with horror. "No, it can't be, it oughtn't to be!He's so much to be pitied!" she said to herself directly after.

　　This doubt poisoned the charm of her new life.