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what is good. Levin belonged to the second class. But he had no
difficulty in finding what was good and attractive in Vronsky. It was
apparent at the first glance. Vronsky was a squarely built, dark man,
not very tall, with a good-humored, handsome, and exceedingly calm
and resolute face. Everything about his face and figure, from his short-
cropped black hair and freshly shaven chin down to his loosely fitting,
brand-new uniform, was simple and at the same time elegant. Making
way for the lady who had come in, Vronsky went up to the princess and
then to Kitty.
As he approached her, his beautiful eyes shone with a specially
tender light, and with a faint, happy, and modestly triumphant smile
(so it seemed to Levin), bowing carefully and respectfully over her, he
held out his small broad hand to her.
Greeting and saying a few words to everyone, he sat down without
once glancing at Levin, who had never taken his eyes off him.
“Let me introduce you,” said the princess, indicating Levin.
“Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin, Count Alexey Kirillovitch Vronsky.”
Vronsky got up and, looking cordially at Levin, shook hands with
him.
“I believe I was to have dined with you this winter,” he said, smil-
ing his simple and open smile; “but you had unexpectedly left for the
country.”
“Konstantin Dmitrievitch despises and hates town and us towns-
people,” said Countess Nordston.
“My words must make a deep impression on you, since you re-
member them so well,” said Levin, and suddenly conscious that he had
said just the same thing before, he reddened.
Vronsky looked at Levin and Countess Nordston, and smiled.
“Are you always in the country?” he inquired. “I should think it
must be dull in the winter.”
“It’s not dull if one has work to do; besides, one’s not dull by one-
self,” Levin replied abruptly.
“I am fond of the country,” said Vronsky, noticing, and affecting not
to notice, Levin’s tone.
“But I hope, count, you would not consent to live in the country
always,” said Countess Nordston.
“I don’t know; I have never tried for long. I experience a queer
feeling once,” he went on. “I never longed so for the country, Russian
country, with bast shoes and peasants, as when I was spending a
winter with my mother in Nice. Nice itself is dull enough, you know.
And indeed, Naples and Sorrento are only pleasant for a short time.
And it’s just there that Russia comes back to me most vividly, and
especially the country. It’s as though...”
He talked on, addressing both Kitty and Levin, turning his serene,
friendly eyes from one to the other, and saying obviously just what
came into his head.
Noticing that Countess Nordston wanted to say something, he
stopped short without finishing what he had begun, and listened at-
tentively to her.
The conversation did not flag for an instant, so that the princess,
who always kept in reserve, in case a subject should be lacking, two
heavy guns—the relative advantages of classical and of modern edu-
cation, and universal military service—had not to move out either of
them, while Countess Nordston had not a chance of chaffing Levin.
Levin wanted to, and could not, take part in the general conversa-
tion; saying to himself every instant, “Now go,” he still did not go, as
though waiting for something.
The conversation fell upon table-turning and spirits, and Count-