Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [43]
‘Call him, Alyosha,’ said the old countess.
Vronsky went out on the platform and shouted:
‘Oblonsky! This way!’
Mme Karenina did not wait for her brother, but, on seeing him, got out of the carriage with a light, resolute step. And as soon as her brother came up to her, she threw her left arm around his neck in a movement that surprised Vronsky by its resoluteness and grace, quickly drew him to her, and gave him a hearty kiss. Vronsky, not taking his eyes away, looked at her and smiled, himself not knowing at what. But remembering that his mother was waiting for him, he again got into the carriage.
‘Very sweet, isn’t she?’ the countess said of Mme Karenina. ‘Her husband put her with me, and I was very glad. We talked all the way. Well, and they say that you ... vous filez le parfait amour. Tant mieux, mon cher, tant mieux.’d
‘I don’t know what you’re hinting at, maman,’ her son replied coolly. ‘Let’s go, then, maman.’
Mme Karenina came back into the carriage to take leave of the countess.
‘Well, Countess, so you’ve met your son and I my brother,’ she said gaily. ‘And all my stories are exhausted; there was nothing more to tell.’
‘Ah, no, my dear,’ said the countess, taking her hand, ‘I could go around the world with you and not be bored. You’re one of those sweet women with whom it’s pleasant both to talk and to be silent. And please don’t keep thinking about your son: it’s impossible for you never to be separated.’
Mme Karenina stood motionless, holding herself very straight, and her eyes were smiling.
‘Anna Arkadyevna,’ the countess said, explaining to her son, ‘has a little boy of about eight, I think, and has never been separated from him, and she keeps suffering about having left him.’
‘Yes, the countess and I spent the whole time talking - I about my son, she about hers,’ said Mme Karenina, and again a smile lit up her face, a tender smile addressed to him.
‘You were probably very bored by it,’ he said, catching at once, in mid-air, this ball of coquetry that she had thrown to him. But she evidently did not want to continue the conversation in that tone and turned to the old countess:
‘Thank you very much. I didn’t even notice how I spent the day yesterday. Good-bye, Countess.’
‘Good-bye, my friend,’ the countess replied. ‘Let me kiss your pretty little face. I’ll tell you simply, directly, like an old woman, that I’ve come to love you.’
Trite as the phrase was, Mme Karenina evidently believed it with all her heart and was glad. She blushed, bent forward slightly, offering her face to the countess’s lips, straightened up again, and with the same smile wavering between her lips and eyes, gave her hand to Vronsky. He pressed the small hand offered him and was glad, as of something special, of her strong and boldly energetic handshake. She went out with a quick step, which carried her rather full body with such strange lightness.
‘Very sweet,’ said the old woman.
Her son was thinking the same. He followed her with his eyes until her graceful figure disappeared, and the smile stayed on his face. Through the window he saw her go up to her brother, put her hand on his arm, and begin animatedly telling him something that obviously had nothing to do with him, Vronsky, and he found that vexing.
‘Well, so, maman, are you quite well?’ he repeated, turning to his mother.
‘Everything’s fine, excellent. Alexandre was very sweet. And Marie has become very pretty. She’s very interesting.’
Again she began to talk about what interested her most - her grandson’s baptism, for which she had gone to Petersburg - and about the special favour the emperor had shown her older son.
‘And here’s Lavrenty!’ said Vronsky, looking out the window. ‘We can go now, if you like.’
The old butler, who had come with the countess, entered the carriage to announce that everything was ready, and the countess got up to leave.
‘Let’s go, there are fewer people now,