<h3>Chapter 30</h3>
<p>In the little German watering-place to which the Shtcherbatskys had betaken
themselves, as in all places indeed where people are gathered together, the
usual process, as it were, of the crystallization of society went on, assigning
to each member of that society a definite and unalterable place. Just as the
particle of water in frost, definitely and unalterably, takes the special form
of the crystal of snow, so each new person that arrived at the springs was at
once placed in his special place.</p>
<p><i>Fürst</i> Shtcherbatsky, <i>sammt Gemahlin und Tochter</i>, by the
apartments they took, and from their name and from the friends they made, were
immediately crystallized into a definite place marked out for them.</p>
<p>There was visiting the watering-place that year a real German Fürstin, in
consequence of which the crystallizing process went on more vigorously than
ever. Princess Shtcherbatskaya wished, above everything, to present her
daughter to this German princess, and the day after their arrival she duly
performed this rite. Kitty made a low and graceful curtsey in the <i>very
simple</i>, that is to say, very elegant frock that had been ordered her from
Paris. The German princess said, “I hope the roses will soon come back to
this pretty little face,” and for the Shtcherbatskys certain definite
lines of existence were at once laid down from which there was no departing.
The Shtcherbatskys made the acquaintance too of the family of an English Lady
Somebody, and of a German countess and her son, wounded in the last war, and of
a learned Swede, and of M. Canut and his sister. But yet inevitably the
Shtcherbatskys were thrown most into the society of a Moscow lady, Marya
Yevgenyevna Rtishtcheva and her daughter, whom Kitty disliked, because she had
fallen ill, like herself, over a love affair, and a Moscow colonel, whom Kitty
had known from childhood, and always seen in uniform and epaulets, and who now,
with his little eyes and his open neck and flowered cravat, was uncommonly
ridiculous and tedious, because there was no getting rid of him. When all this
was so firmly established, Kitty began to be very much bored, especially as the
prince went away to Carlsbad and she was left alone with her mother. She took
no interest in the people she knew, feeling that nothing fresh would come of
them. Her chief mental interest in the watering-place consisted in watching and
making theories about the people she did not know. It was characteristic of
Kitty that she always imagined everything in people in the most favorable light
possible, especially so in those she did not know. And now as she made surmises
as to who people were, what were their relations to one another, and what they
were like, Kitty endowed them with the most marvelous and noble characters, and
found confirmation of her idea in her observations.</p>
<p>Of these people the one that attracted her most was a Russian girl who had come
to the watering-place with an invalid Russian lady, Madame Stahl, as everyone
called her. Madame Stahl belonged to the highest society, but she was so ill
that she could not walk, and only on exceptionally fine days made her
appearance at the springs in an invalid carriage. But it was not so much from
ill-health as from pride—so Princess Shtcherbatskaya interpreted
it—that Madame Stahl had not made the acquaintance of anyone among the
Russians there. The Russian girl looked after Madame Stahl, and besides that,
she was, as Kitty observed, on friendly terms with all the invalids who were
seriously ill, and there were many of them at the springs, and looked after
them in the most natural way. This Russian girl was not, as Kitty gathered,
related to Madame Stahl, nor was she a paid attendant. Madame Stahl called her
Varenka, and other people called her “Mademoiselle Varenka.” Apart
from the interest Kitty took in this girl’s relations with Madame Stahl
and with other unknown persons, Kitty, as often happened, felt an inexplicable
attraction to Mademoiselle Varenka, and was aware when their eyes met that she
too liked her.</p>
<p>Of Mademoiselle Varenka one would not say that she had passed her first youth,
but she was, as it were, a creature without youth; she might have been taken
for nineteen or for thirty. If her features were criticized separately, she was
handsome rather than plain, in spite of the sickly hue of her face. She would
have been a good figure, too, if it had not been for her extreme thinness and
the size of her head, which was too large for her medium height. But she was
not likely to be attractive to men. She was like a fine flower, already past
its bloom and without fragrance, though the petals were still unwithered.
Moreover, she would have been unattractive to men also from the lack of just
what Kitty had too much of—of the suppressed fire of vitality, and the
consciousness of her own attractiveness.</p>
<p>She always seemed absorbed in work about which there could be no doubt, and so
it seemed she could not take interest in anything outside it. It was just this
contrast with her own position that was for Kitty the great attraction of
Mademoiselle Varenka. Kitty felt that in her, in her manner of life, she would
find an example of what she was now so painfully seeking: interest in life, a
dignity in life—apart from the worldly relations of girls with men, which
so revolted Kitty, and appeared to her now as a shameful hawking about of goods
in search of a purchaser. The more attentively Kitty watched her unknown
friend, the more convinced she was this girl was the perfect creature she
fancied her, and the more eagerly she wished to make her acquaintance.</p>
<p>The two girls used to meet several times a day, and every time they met,
Kitty’s eyes said: “Who are you? What are you? Are you really the
exquisite creature I imagine you to be? But for goodness’ sake
don’t suppose,” her eyes added, “that I would force my
acquaintance on you, I simply admire you and like you.” “I like you
too, and you’re very, very sweet. And I should like you better still, if
I had time,” answered the eyes of the unknown girl. Kitty saw indeed,
that she was always busy. Either she was taking the children of a Russian
family home from the springs, or fetching a shawl for a sick lady, and wrapping
her up in it, or trying to interest an irritable invalid, or selecting and
buying cakes for tea for someone.</p>
<p>Soon after the arrival of the Shtcherbatskys there appeared in the morning
crowd at the springs two persons who attracted universal and unfavorable
attention. These were a tall man with a stooping figure, and huge hands, in an
old coat too short for him, with black, simple, and yet terrible eyes, and a
pockmarked, kind-looking woman, very badly and tastelessly dressed. Recognizing
these persons as Russians, Kitty had already in her imagination begun
constructing a delightful and touching romance about them. But the princess,
having ascertained from the visitors’ list that this was Nikolay Levin
and Marya Nikolaevna, explained to Kitty what a bad man this Levin was, and all
her fancies about these two people vanished. Not so much from what her mother
told her, as from the fact that it was Konstantin’s brother, this pair
suddenly seemed to Kitty intensely unpleasant. This Levin, with his continual
twitching of his head, aroused in her now an irrepressible feeling of disgust.</p>
<p>It seemed to her that his big, terrible eyes, which persistently pursued her,
expressed a feeling of hatred and contempt, and she tried to avoid meeting him.</p>
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