"It's Stiva," cried Levin, from below the balcony. "We had finished, Dolly; don't you worry!" he added, as the boy darted off to meet the carriage.
"Is, ea, id, ejus, ejus, ejus," cried Grisha, as he ran down the avenue.
"And there's some one with him! It must be papa!" cried Levin, standing at the entrance of the driveway. "Kitty, don't come down by the steep stairs. Come round!"
But Levin was mistaken in thinking that the other man in the carriage was the old prince. When he came close he saw, sitting next Stepan Arkadyevitch, not the prince, but a handsome, portly young man, in a Scotch cap with long floating ribbons. This was Vasenka Veslovsky, a third cousin of the Shcherbatskys, a brilliant young member of Moscow and Petersburg society — "one of the best fellows that ever lived, and a devotee of hunting," as Stepan Arkadyevitch expressed it in introducing him.
Veslovsky was not in the least disconcerted by the surprise which his appearance, in place of the old prince, caused. He gayly greeted Levin, reminding him of their former acquaintance, and took Grisha into the carriage, lifting him up over the pointer which Stepan Arkadyevitch had brought with him.
Levin did not get into the carriage, but followed on foot. He was somewhat put out by the non-arrival of the old prince, whom he liked better and better the more he saw him; he was still more put out at the appearance of this Vasenka Veslovsky, a man who was utterly unknown and superfluous. He seemed to him still more unknown and superfluous when, as Levin approached the front door, about which had collected a lively throng of old and young, he kissed Kitty's hand with a remarkably flattering and gallant look.
"Your wife and I are cousins, and old friends," said Vasenka Veslovsky, heartily pressing Levin's hand a second time.
"Well, how is it, any game?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, addressing Levin almost before he had greeted
