Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Five/Chapter 30
CHAPTER XXX
Vasili Lukitch, meantime, not at first knowing who this lady was, but learning from their conversation that it was Serozha's mother, the woman who had deserted her husband, and whom he did not know, as he had not come into the house till after her departure, was in great perplexity. Ought he to go to his pupil, or should he tell Alekseï Aleksandrovitch?
On mature reflection he came to the conclusion that his duty consisted in going to dress Serozha at the usual hour, without paying any attention to a third person—his mother or any one else. So he dressed himself. But as he reached the door and opened it, the sight of the caresses between the mother and child, the sound of their voices and their words, made him change his mind. He shook his head, sighed, and quietly closed the door. "I will wait ten minutes longer," he said to himself, coughing slightly, and wiping his eyes.
There was great excitement among the servants; they all knew that the baruinya had come, and that Kapitonuitch had let her in, and that she was in the child's room; they knew, too, that their master was in the habit of going to Serozha every morning at nine o'clock: each one felt that the husband and wife ought not to meet, that it must be prevented.
Korneï, the valet, went down to the Swiss to ask why Anna had been let in; and, finding that Kapitonuitch had taken her up-stairs, he reprimanded him severely. The Swiss maintained an obstinate silence till the valet declared that he deserved to lose his place, when the old man jumped at him, and, shaking his fist in his face, said:—
"What is that? you would not let her in? You've served here ten years, and had nothing but kindness from her, but you would have said, 'Now, go away from here!' You know what policy is, you sly dog. What you don't forget is to rob your master, and to carry off his racoon-skin shubas!"
"Soldier!" replied Korneï, scornfully, and he turned toward the nurse, who was coming in just at this moment. "What do you think, Marya Yefimovna? He has let in Anna Arkadyevna, without saying anything to anybody, and just when Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, as soon as he is up, will be going to the nursery."
"What a scrape! what a scrape!" said the nurse. "But, Kornei Vasilyevitch, find some way to keep your master, while I run to warn her, and get her out of the way. What a scrape!"
"When the nurse went into the child's room, Serozha was telling his mother how Nadenka and he had fallen when sliding down a hill of ice, and turned three somersaults. Anna was listening to the sound of her son's voice, looking at his face, watching the play of his features, feeling his little arms, but not hearing a word what he said. She had to go away, she had to leave him; this alone she understood and felt. She had heard Vasili Lukitch's steps, and his little discreet cough, as he came to the door, and now she heard the nurse coming in; but, unable to move or to speak, she remained as fixed as a statue.
"Mistress, darling,"[1] said the nurse, coming up to Anna, and kissing her hands and her shoulders. "God sent this joy for our birthday celebration! You are not changed at all."
"Akh! nurse, my dear; I did not know that you were in the house," said Anna, coming to herself.
"I don't live here; I live with my daughter. I came to give my best wishes to Serozha, Anna Arkadyevna, galubushka."
The nurse suddenly began to weep, and to kiss Anna's hand.
Serozha, with bright, joyful eyes, and holding his mother with one hand and his nurse with the other, was dancing in his little bare feet on the carpet. His old nurse's tenderness toward his mother was delightful to him.
"Mamma, she often comes to see me; and when she comes ...." he began, but he stopped short when he perceived that the nurse whispered something in his mother's ear, and that his mother's face assumed an expression of fear, and something like shame which did not go well with his mother.
Anna went to him.
"My precious!" she said.
She could not say the word prashchaï, "farewell"; but the expression of her face said it, and he understood.
"My precious, precious Kutik!" she said, calling him by a pet name which she used when he was a baby. "You will not forget me; you ...." but she could not say another word.
Only then she began to think of the words which she wanted to say to him, but now it was impossible to say them. But Serozha understood all that she would have said; he understood that she was unhappy, and that she loved him. He even understood what the nurse whispered in her ear; he heard the words "always at nine o'clock," and he knew that they referred to his father, and that his mother must not meet him. He understood this, but one thing he could not understand: why did her face express fear and shame? .... She was not to blame, but she was afraid of him, and seemed ashamed of something. He wanted to ask a question which would have explained this doubt, but he did not dare; he saw that she was in sorrow, and he pitied her. He silently clung close to her, and then he whispered:—
"Don't go yet! He will not come for some time."
His mother pushed him away from her a little, in order to see if he understood the meaning of what he had said, and in the frightened expression of his face she perceived that he not only spoke of his father, but seemed to ask her how he ought to think about him.
"Serozha, my dear," she said, "love him; he is better and more upright than I am, and I have been wicked to him. When you have grown up, you will understand."
"Not better than you!" cried the child, with sobs of despair; and, clinging to his mother's shoulders, he squeezed her with all his might till his arms trembled with the exertion.
"My darling, my little one!"[2] exclaimed Anna; and, bursting into tears, she sobbed like a child, even as he sobbed.
At this moment the door opened, and Vasili Lukitch came in. Steps were heard at the other door; and, in a frightened whisper, he exclaimed, "He is coming," and gave Anna her hat.
Serozha threw himself on the bed, sobbing, and covered his face with his hands. Anna took them away to kiss yet once again his tear-stained cheeks, and then with quick steps hurried from the room.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch met her at the door. When he saw her, he stopped and bowed his head.
Though she had declared a moment before that he was better and more upright than she, the swift glance that she gave him, taking in his whole person, with all its peculiarities, awoke in her only a feeling of hatred and scorn for him, and jealousy on account of her son. She hurriedly lowered her veil, and, quickening her step, almost ran from the room.
She had entirely forgotten in her haste the playthings which, on the evening before, she had bought with so much love and sadness; and she took them back with her to the hotel.