Part Two: Chapter 34

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Before the end of the course of drinking the waters, PrinceShtcherbatsky, who had gone on from Carlsbad to Baden andKissingen to Russian friends--to get a breath of Russian air, ashe said--came back to his wife and daughter.

　　The views of the prince and of the princess on life abroad werecompletely opposed. The princess thought everything delightful,and in spite of her established position in Russian society, shetried abroad to be like a European fashionable lady, which shewas not--for the simple reason that she was a typical Russiangentlewoman; and so she was affected, which did not altogethersuit her. The prince, on the contrary, thought everythingforeign detestable, got sick of European life, kept to hisRussian habits, and purposely tried to show himself abroad lessEuropean than he was in reality.

　　The prince returned thinner, with the skin hanging in loose bagson his cheeks, but in the most cheerful frame of mind. Hisgood humor was even greater when he saw Kitty completelyrecovered. The news of Kitty's friendship with Madame Stahl andVarenka, and the reports the princess gave him of some kind ofchange she had noticed in Kitty, troubled the prince and arousedhis habitual feeling of jealousy of everything that drew hisdaughter away from him, and a dread that his daughter might havegot out of the reach of his influence into regions inaccessibleto him. But these unpleasant matters were all drowned in the seaof kindliness and good humor which was always within him, andmore so than ever since his course of Carlsbad waters.

　　The day after his arrival the prince, in his long overcoat, withhis Russian wrinkles and baggy cheeks propped up by a starchedcollar, set off with his daughter to the spring in the greatestgood humor.

　　It was a lovely morning: the bright, cheerful houses with theirlittle gardens, the sight of the red-faced, red-armed,beer-drinking German waitresses, working away merrily, did theheart good. But the nearer they got to the springs the oftenerthey met sick people; and their appearance seemed more pitiablethan ever among the everyday conditions of prosperous Germanlife. Kitty was no longer struck by this contrast. The brightsun, the brilliant green of the foliage, the strains of the musicwere for her the natural setting of all these familiar faces,with their changes to greater emaciation or to convalescence, forwhich she watched. But to the prince the brightness and gaietyof the June morning, and the sound of the orchestra playing a gaywaltz then in fashion, and above all, the appearance of thehealthy attendants, seemed something unseemly and monstrous, inconjunction with these slowly moving, dying figures gatheredtogether from all parts of Europe. In spite of his feeling ofpride and, as it were, of the return of youth, with his favoritedaughter on his arm, he felt awkward, and almost ashamed of hisvigorous step and his sturdy, stout limbs. He felt almost like aman not dressed in a crowd.

　　"Present me to your new friends," he said to his daughter,squeezing her hand with his elbow. "I like even your horridSoden for making you so well again. Only it's melancholy, verymelancholy here. Who's that?"

　　Kitty mentioned the names of all the people they met, with someof whom she was acquainted and some not. At the entrance of thegarden they met the blind lady, Madame Berthe, with her guide,and the prince was delighted to see the old Frenchwoman's facelight up when she heard Kitty's voice. She at once began talkingto him with French exaggerated politeness, applauding him forhaving such a delightful daughter, extolling Kitty to the skiesbefore her face, and calling her a treasure, a pearl, and aconsoling angel.

　　"Well, she's the second angel, then," said the prince, smiling."she calls Mademoiselle Varenka angel number one."

　　"Oh! Mademoiselle Varenka, she's a real angel, allez," MadameBerthe assented.

　　In the arcade they met Varenka herself. She was walking rapidlytowards them carrying an elegant red bag.

　　"Here is papa come," Kitty said to her.

　　Varenka made--simply and naturally as she did everything--amovement between a bow and curtsey, and immediately began talkingto the prince, without shyness, naturally, as she talked toeveryone.

　　"Of course I know you; I know you very well," the prince saidto her with a smile, in which Kitty detected with joy that herfather liked her friend. "Where are you off to in such haste?"

　　"Maman's here," she said, turning to Kitty. "She has not sleptall night, and the doctor advised her to go out. I'm taking herher work."

　　"So that's angel number one?" said the prince when Varenka hadgone on.

　　Kitty saw that her father had meant to make fun of Varenka, butthat he could not do it because he liked her.

　　"Come, so we shall see all your friends," he went on, "evenMadame Stahl, if she deigns to recognize me."

　　"Why, did you know her, papa?" Kitty asked apprehensively,catching the gleam of irony that kindled in the prince's eyes atthe mention of Madame Stahl.

　　"I used to know her husband, and her too a little, before she'djoined the Pietists."

　　"What is a Pietist, papa?" asked Kitty, dismayed to find thatwhat she prized so highly in Madame Stahl had a name.

　　"I don't quite know myself. I only know that she thanks Godfor everything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that herhusband died. And that's rather droll, as they didn't get ontogether."

　　"Who's that? What a piteous face!" he asked, noticing a sick manof medium height sitting on a bench, wearing a brown overcoat andwhite trousers that fell in strange folds about his long,fleshless legs. This man lifted his straw hat, showed his scantycurly hair and high forehead, painfully reddened by the pressureof the hat.

　　"That's Petrov, an artist," answered Kitty, blushing. "Andthat's his wife," she added, indicating Anna Pavlovna, who, asthough on purpose, at the very instant they approached walkedaway after a child that had run off along a path.

　　"Poor fellow! and what a nice face he has!" said the prince."Why don't you go up to him? He wanted to speak to you."

　　"Well, let us go, then," said Kitty, turning round resolutely."How are you feeling today?" she asked Petrov.

　　Petrov got up, leaning on his stick, and looked shyly at theprince.

　　"This is my daughter," said the prince. "Let me introducemyself."

　　The painter bowed and smiled, showing his strangely dazzlingwhite teeth.

　　"We expected you yesterday, princess," he said to Kitty. Hestaggered as he said this, and then repeated the motion, tryingto make it seem as if it had been intentional.

　　"I meant to come, but Varenka said that Anna Pavlovna sent wordyou were not going."

　　"Not going!" said Petrov, blushing, and immediately beginning tocough, and his eyes sought his wife. "Anita! Anita!" he saidloudly, and the swollen veins stood out like cords on his thinwhite neck.

　　Anna Pavlovna came up.

　　"So you sent word to the princess that we weren't going!" hewhispered to her angrily, losing his voice.

　　"Good morning, princess," said Anna Pavlovna, with an assumedsmile utterly unlike her former manner. "Very glad to make youracquaintance," she said to the prince. "You've long beenexpected, prince."

　　"What did you send word to the princess that we weren't goingfor?" the artist whispered hoarsely once more, still moreangrily, obviously exasperated that his voice failed him so thathe could not give his words the expression he would have likedto.

　　"Oh, mercy on us! I thought we weren't going," his wife answeredcrossly.

　　"What, when...." He coughed and waved his hand. The prince tookoff his hat and moved away with his daughter.

　　"Ah! ah!" he sighed deeply. "Oh, poor things!"

　　"Yes, papa," answered Kitty. "And you must know they've threechildren, no servant, and scarcely any means. He gets somethingfrom the Academy," she went on briskly, trying to drown thedistress that the queer change in Anna Pavlovna's manner to herhad aroused in her.

　　"Oh, here's Madame Stahl," said Kitty, indicating an invalidcarriage, where, propped on pillows, something in gray and bluewas lying under a sunshade. This was Madame Stahl. Behind herstood the gloomy, healthy-looking German workman who pushed thecarriage. Close by was standing a flaxen-headed Swedish count,whom Kitty knew by name. Several invalids were lingering nearthe low carriage, staring at the lady as though she were somecuriosity.

　　The prince went up to her, and Kitty detected that disconcertinggleam of irony in his eyes. He went up to Madame Stahl, andaddressed her with extreme courtesy and affability in thatexcellent French that so few speak nowadays.

　　"I don't know if you remember me, but I must recall myself tothank you for your kindness to my daughter," he said, taking offhis hat and not putting it on again.

　　"Prince Alexander Shtcherbatsky," said Madame Stahl, lifting uponhim her heavenly eyes, in which Kitty discerned a look ofannoyance. "Delighted! I have taken a great fancy to yourdaughter."

　　"You are still in weak health?"

　　"Yes; I'm used to it," said Madame Stahl, and she introduced theprince to the Swedish count.

　　"You are scarcely changed at all," the prince said to her. "It'sten or eleven years since I had the honor of seeing you."

　　"Yes; God sends the cross and sends the strength to bear it.Often one wonders what is the goal of this life?... The otherside!" she said angrily to Varenka, who had rearranged the rugover her feet not to her satisfaction.

　　"To do good, probably," said the prince with a twinkle in hiseye.

　　"That is not for us to judge," said Madame Stahl, perceiving theshade of expression on the prince's face. "So you will send methat book, dear count? I'm very grateful to you," she said tothe young Swede.

　　"Ah!" cried the prince, catching sight of the Moscow colonelstanding near, and with a bow to Madame Stahl he walked away withhis daughter and the Moscow colonel, who joined them.

　　"That's our aristocracy, prince!" the Moscow colonel said withironical intention. He cherished a grudge against Madame Stahlfor not making his acquaintance.

　　"She's just the same," replied the prince.

　　"Did you know her before her illness, prince--that's to saybefore she took to her bed?"

　　"Yes. She took to her bed before my eyes," said the prince.

　　"They say it's ten years since she has stood on her feet."

　　"She doesn't stand up because her legs are too short. She's avery bad figure."

　　"Papa, it's not possible!" cried Kitty.

　　"That's what wicked tongues say, my darling. And your Varenkacatches it too," he added. "Oh, these invalid ladies!"

　　"Oh, no, papa!" Kitty objected warmly. "Varenka worships her.And then she does so much good! Ask anyone! Everyone knows herand Aline Stahl."

　　"Perhaps so," said the prince, squeezing her hand with his elbow;"but it's better when one does good so that you may ask everyoneand no one knows."

　　Kitty did not answer, not because she had nothing to say, butbecause she did not care to reveal her secret thoughts even toher father. But, strange to say, although she had so made up hermind not to be influenced by her father's views, not to let himinto her inmost sanctuary, she felt that the heavenly image ofMadame Stahl, which she had carried for a whole month in herheart, had vanished, never to return, just as the fantasticfigure made up of some clothes thrown down at random vanisheswhen one sees that it is only some garment lying there. All thatwas left was a woman with short legs, who lay down because shehad a bad figure, and worried patient Varenka for not arrangingher rug to her liking. And by no effort of the imagination couldKitty bring back the former Madame Stahl.