Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [105]
‘Splendid.’
XVIII
Though the whole of Vronsky’s inner life was filled with his passion, his external life rolled inalterably and irresistibly along the former, habitual rails of social and regimental connections and interests. Regimental interests occupied an important place in Vronsky’s life, because he loved his regiment and still more because he was loved in the regiment. They not only loved him, they also respected him and were proud of him, proud that this enormously wealthy man, with an excellent education and abilities, with an open path to every sort of success, ambition and vanity, disdained it all and of all interests in life took closest to heart the interests of his regiment and his comrades. Vronsky was aware of their view of him and, besides the fact that he liked that life, also felt it his duty to maintain the established view of himself.
It goes without saying that he never spoke with any of his comrades about his love, did not let it slip even during the wildest drinking parties (however, he never got so drunk as to lose control of himself), and stopped the mouths of those of his light-minded comrades who tried to hint at his liaison. But, in spite of that, his love was known to the whole town - everyone had guessed more or less correctly about his relations with Mme Karenina - and the majority of the young men envied him precisely for what was most difficult in his love, for Karenin’s high position and the resulting conspicuousness of this liaison in society.
The majority of young women, envious of Anna and long since weary of her being called righteous, were glad of what they surmised and only waited for the turnabout of public opinion to be confirmed before they fell upon her with the full weight of their scorn. They were already preparing the lumps of mud they would fling at her when the time came. The majority of older and more highly placed people were displeased by this impending social scandal.
Vronsky’s mother, on learning of his liaison, was pleased at first - both because nothing, to her mind, gave the ultimate finish to a brilliant young man like a liaison in high society, and because Anna, whom she had liked so much, who had talked so much about her son, was after all just like all other beautiful and decent women, to Countess Vronsky’s mind. But recently she had learned that her son had refused a post offered to him and important for his career, only in order to stay in the regiment and be able to see Anna, had learned that highly placed people were displeased with him for that, and had changed her opinion. Nor did she like it that, judging by all she had learned of this liaison, it was not a brilliant, graceful society liaison, of which she would have approved, but some sort of desperate Wertherian25 passion, as she had been told, which might draw him into foolishness. She had not seen him since the time of his unexpected departure from Moscow, and demanded through his older brother that he come to see her.
The elder brother was also displeased with the younger. He did not care what sort of love it was, great or small, passionate or unpassionate, depraved or not depraved (he himself, though he had children, kept a dancer, and was therefore indulgent about such things); but he knew that this love displeased those whose good pleasure was necessary, and he therefore disapproved of his brother’s behaviour.
Besides the service and society, Vronsky had one more occupation - horses, of which he was a passionate fancier.
That year an officers’ steeplechase was planned. Vronsky signed up for the race, bought an English thoroughbred mare and, in spite of his love, was passionately, though restrainedly, carried away with the forthcoming races ...
These two passions did not interfere with each other. On the contrary, he needed an occupation and an enthusiasm not dependent on his love, in which he