This Mlle Varenka was not exactly past her early youth, but seemed to be a person destitute of youthfulness: she might be nineteen years old or she might be thirty.
If one examined her features, she was good-looking rather than plain, despite her unhealthy complexion. Her figure would have been good had she not been too lean and her head too large for her medium height; but she was not likely to prove attractive to men. She was like a beautiful flower which though not yet in full bloom is already beginning to fade and has no scent. Another reason why she could not be attractive to men was because she lacked that of which Kitty had too much — a restrained flame of vitality and consciousness of her own attractiveness. She seemed always occupied with something there could be no doubt about, and therefore it seemed that no side issue could interest her. By this contrast to herself Kitty was specially attracted. She felt that in her and in her way of life could be found a model of what she herself was painfully seeking: interest in life, the worth of life — outside the social relations of girls to men, which now seemed disgusting to Kitty, who regarded them as shameful exhibitions of goods awaiting a buyer. The more Kitty observed her unknown friend, the more she was convinced that this girl really was the perfect being she imagined her to be, and the more she wished to make her acquaintance.
The two girls came across one another several times a day, and every time they met Kitty’s eyes said: ‘Who are you? What are you? Surely you are the delightful creature I imagine you to be? But for heaven’s sake’ — her look added — ‘do not think that I shall force myself on you. I simply admire and love you.’ ‘I too love you, and you are very, very sweet. I should love you still more if I had the time,’ the stranger’s look replied. And Kitty saw that the girl really was always occupied: now taking the children of some Russian family home from the Wells, now carrying an invalid’s plaid or wrapping it round her, now trying to soothe an irritable patient, now choosing and buying biscuits for some one’s coffee.
Soon after the Shcherbatskys’ arrival, two new persons who provoked everybody’s disapproval began to appear of a morning at the Wells. They were a very tall, round-shouldered man with black eyes, naïve and at the same time dreadful, and enormous hands, who wore an old overcoat too short for him, and a slightly pockmarked, sweet-faced woman, badly and tastelessly dressed. Having recognized them to be Russians, Kitty at once began to make up a beautiful and touching romance about them. But the Princess, having found out from the visitors’ list that they were Nicholas Levin and Mary Nikolavna, explained to Kitty what a bad man this Levin was, and all her dreams about those two people vanished. Not so much because of what her mother had told her, as because the man was Constantine’s brother, these two people appeared very disagreeable to Kitty. This Levin, by his habit of jerking his head, now inspired an irrepressible feeling of aversion in her.
It seemed to her that his large, dreadful eyes, which followed her insistently, expressed hatred and irony, and she tried to avoid encountering him.
Chapter 31
IT was a dull day, it rained the whole morning, and the patients with their umbrellas crowded the covered gallery.
Kitty was walking with her mother and the Moscow Colonel, who swaggered gaily in his short, German coat, bought ready-made in Frankfurt. They kept to one side of the gallery, trying to avoid Levin, who was walking on the other side. Varenka, in her dark dress and a black hat with turned-down rim, was pacing the whole length of the gallery with a blind Frenchwoman, and each time she met Kitty they exchanged a friendly look.
‘Mama, may I speak to her?’ asked Kitty, following her unknown friend with her eyes and noticing that she was moving toward the Well and that they could meet her there.
‘Well, if you want to so much, I will inquire about her first and will speak to her myself,’ answered her mother. ‘What do you see particularly in her? I expect she’s a companion. If you like I will make Madame Stahl’s acquaintance. I knew her sister-in-law,’ added the Princess, raising her head proudly.
Kitty knew that her mother was offended that Madame Stahl seemed to avoid making her acquaintance. Kitty did not insist.
‘She is wonderfully sweet!’ she said, looking at Varenka, who was handing a tumbler to the Frenchwoman. ‘See how naturally and sweetly she does it.’
‘How absurd your infatuations are,’ said the Princess. ‘Come, we’d better turn back,’ she added, as she noticed Levin coming toward them with his lady and a German doctor, to whom he was talking loudly and angrily.
They were just turning to go back, when they suddenly heard voices not merely loud, but shouting. Levin had stopped and was shouting, and the doctor was also excited. A crowd collected about them. The Princess and Kitty withdrew hurriedly, but the Colonel joined the crowd to find out what the noise was all about.
In a few minutes he overtook Kitty and her mother.
‘What was the matter?’ asked the Princess.
‘It’s shameful and scandalous,’ replied the Colonel. ‘The one thing to fear is meeting Russians abroad. That tall gentleman has been quarrelling with the doctor and insulting him, because he is dissatisfied with the doctor’s treatment. He shook his stick at him! It’s simply shameful!’
‘Ah, how unpleasant!’ said the Princess. ‘But how did it all end?’
‘Luckily that … you know the girl with a hat like a mushroom — she’s Russian, I think — intervened,’ said the Colonel.
‘Mlle Varenka?’ asked Kitty in a pleased tone.
‘Yes, yes. She knew what to do before anyone else. She took that fellow by the arm and led him away.’
‘There, Mama,’ said Kitty. ‘And you are surprised that I admire her.’
The next day, watching her unknown friend, Kitty noticed that she was already on the same footing with Levin and his young woman as she was with her other protégés. She went up to them, talked to them, and acted as interpreter for the woman, who spoke nothing but Russian.
Kitty begged her mother more than ever to allow her to make Varenka’s acquaintance, and, much as the Princess disliked appearing to take the first step toward getting acquainted with Madame Stahl, who allowed herself to be proud of something or other, she made inquiries about Varenka, and having learnt particulars which allowed her to conclude that though there might be little good there would be no harm in this acquaintance, she herself approached Varenka.
Choosing a moment when her daughter had gone to the Well and Varenka had stopped in front of a baker’s shop, the Princess went up to her.
‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ said the Princess with her dignified smile. ‘My daughter has fallen in love with you. Perhaps you don’t know me. I …’
‘It is more than mutual, Princess,’ replied Varenka hurriedly.
‘What a good action you performed yesterday for our unfortunate fellow-countryman!’ said the Princess.
Varenka blushed. ‘I don’t remember; I don’t think I did anything,’ she said.