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table—she was in amicable relations with the highest dignitaries of all
the churches and sects.
Varenka lived with her all the while abroad, and everyone who
knew Madame Stahl knew and liked Mademoiselle Varenka, as ev-
eryone called her.
Having learned all these facts, the princess found nothing to object
to in her daughter’s intimacy with Varenka, more especially as Varenka’s
breeding and education were of the best—she spoke French and En-
glish extremely well—and what was of the most weight, brought a
message from Madame Stahl expressing her regret that she was pre-
vented by her ill health from making the acquaintance of the princess.
After getting to know Varenka, Kitty became more and more fasci-
nated by her friend, and every day she discovered new virtues in her.
The princess, hearing that Varenka had a good voice, asked her to
come and sing to them in the evening.
“Kitty plays, and we have a piano, not a good one, it’s true, but you
will give us so much pleasure,” said the princess with her affected
smile, which Kitty disliked particularly just then, because she noticed
that Varenka had no inclination to sing. Varenka came, however, in the
evening and brought a roll of music with her. The princess had invited
Marya Yevgenyevna and her daughter and the colonel.
Varenka seemed quite unaffected by there being persons present
she did not know, and she went directly to the piano. She could not
accompany herself, but she could sing music at sight very well. Kitty,
who played well, accompanied her.
“You have an extraordinary talent,” the princess said to her after
Varenka had sung the first song extremely well.
Marya Yevgenyevna and her daughter expressed their thanks and
admiration.
“Look,” said the colonel, looking out of the window, “what an audi-
ence has collected to listen to you.” There actually was quite a consid-
erable crowd under the windows.
“I am very glad it gives you pleasure,” Varenka answered simply.
Kitty looked with pride at her friend. She was enchanted by her
talent, and her voice and her face, but most of all by her manner, by the
way Varenka obviously thought nothing of her singing and was quite
unmoved by their praises. She seemed only to be asking: “Am I to sing
again, or is that enough?”
“If it had been I,” thought Kitty, “how proud I should have been!
How delighted I should have been to see that crowd under the win-
dows! But she’s utterly unmoved by it. Her only motive is to avoid
refusing and to please mamma. What is there in her? What is it gives
her the power to look down on everything, to be calm independently of
everything? How I should like to know it and to learn it of her!”
thought Kitty, gazing into her serene face. The princess asked Varenka
to sing again, and Varenka sang another song, also smoothly, distinctly,
and well, standing erect at the piano and beating time on it with her
thin, dark-skinned hand.
The next song in the book was an Italian one. Kitty played the
opening bars, and looked round at Varenka.
“Let’s skip that,” said Varenka, flushing a little. Kitty let her eyes
rest on Varenka’s face, with a look of dismay and inquiry.
“Very well, the next one,” she said hurriedly, turning over the pages,
and at once feeling that there was something connected with the song.
“No,” answered Varenka with a smile, laying her hand on the mu-
sic, “no, let’s have that one.” And she sang it just as quietly, as coolly,
and as well as the others.
When she had finished, they all thanked her again, and went off to