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Chapter 25.
Vronsky and Anna spent the whole summer and part of the winter
in the country, living in just the same condition, and still taking no steps
to obtain a divorce. It was an understood thing between them that
they should not go away anywhere; but both felt, the longer they lived
alone, especially in the autumn, without guests in the house, that they
could not stand this existence, and that they would have to alter it.
Their life was apparently such that nothing better could be de-
sired. They had the fullest abundance of everything; they had a child,
and both had occupation. Anna devoted just as much care to her
appearance when they had no visitors, and she did a great deal of
reading, both of novels and of what serious literature was in fashion.
She ordered all the books that were praised in the foreign papers and
reviews she received, and read them with that concentrated attention
which is only given to what is read in seclusion. Moreover, every sub-
ject that was of interest to Vronsky, she studied in books and special
journals, so that he often went straight to her with questions relating to
agriculture or architecture, sometimes even with questions relating to
horse-breeding or sport. He was amazed at her knowledge, her memory,
and at first was disposed to doubt it, to ask for confirmation of her facts;
and she would find what he asked for in some book, and show it to him.
The building of the hospital, too, interested her. She did not merely
assist, but planned and suggested a great deal herself. But her chief
thought was still of herself—how far she was dear to Vronsky, how far
she could make up to him for all he had given up. Vronsky appreciated
this desire not only to please, but to serve him, which had become the
sole aim of her existence, but at the same time he wearied of the loving
snares in which she tried to hold him fast. As time went on, and he saw
himself more and more often held fast in these snares, he had an ever
growing desire, not so much to escape from them, as to try whether
they hindered his freedom. Had it not been for this growing desire to
be free, not to have scenes every time he wanted to go to the town to a
meeting or a race, Vronsky would have been perfectly satisfied with his
life. The role he had taken up, the role of a wealthy landowner, one of
that class which ought to be the very heart of the Russian aristocracy,
was entirely to his taste; and now, after spending six months in that
character, he derived even greater satisfaction from it. And his man-
agement of his estate, which occupied and absorbed him more and
more, was most successful. In spite of the immense sums cost him by
the hospital, by machinery, by cows ordered from Switzerland, and
many other things, he was convinced that he was not wasting, but
increasing his substance. In all matters affecting income, the sales of
timber, wheat, and wool, the letting of lands, Vronsky was hard as a
rock, and knew well how to keep up prices. In all operations on a large
scale on this and his other estates, he kept to the simplest methods
involving no risk, and in trifling details he was careful and exacting to
an extreme degree. In spite of all the cunning and ingenuity of the
German steward, who would try to tempt him into purchases by mak-
ing his original estimate always far larger than really required, and then
representing to Vronsky that he might get the thing cheaper, and so
make a profit, Vronsky did not give in. He listened to his steward,