And in spite of the complete, as he supposed, contempt and indifference he now felt for his wife, at the bottom of his heart Alexey Alexandrovitch still had one feeling left in regard to her--a disinclination to see her free to throw in her lot with Vronsky, so that her crime would be to her advantage.
The mere notion of this so exasperated Alexey Alexandrovitch, that directly it rose to his mind he groaned with inward agony, and got up and changed his place in the carriage, and for a long while after, he sat with scowling brows, wrapping his numbed and bony legs in the fleecy rug.
"Apart from formal divorce, One might still do like Karibanov, Paskudin, and that good fellow Dram--that is, separate from one's wife," he went on thinking, when he had regained his composure. But this step too presented the same drawback of public scandal as a divorce, and what was more, a separation, quite as much as a regular divorce, flung his wife into the arms of Vronsky.
"No, it's out of the question, out of the question!" he said again, twisting his rug about him again. "I cannot be unhappy, but neither she nor he ought to be happy."
The feeling of jealousy, which had tortured him during the period of uncertainty, had passed away at the instant when the tooth had been with agony extracted by his wife's words.
But that feeling had been replaced by another, the desire, not merely that she should not be triumphant, but that she should get due punishment for her crime.
He did not acknowledge this feeling, but at the bottom of his heart he longed for her to suffer for having destroyed his peace of mind--his honor.
And going once again over the conditions inseparable from a duel, a divorce, a separation, and once again rejecting them, Alexey Alexandrovitch felt convinced that there was only one solution,--to keep her with him, concealing what had happened from the world, and using every measure in his power to break off the intrigue, and still more--though this he did not admit to himself--to punish her.
"I must inform her of my conclusion, that thinking over the terrible position in which she has placed her family, all other solutions will be worse for both sides than an external _status quo_, and that such I agree to retain, on the strict condition of obedience on her part to my wishes, that is to say, cessation of all intercourse with her lover." When this decision had been finally adopted, another weighty consideration occurred to Alexey Alexandrovitch in support of it.
"By such a course only shall I be acting in accordance with the dictates of religion," he told himself. "In adopting this course, I am not casting off a guilty wife, but giving her a chance of amendment; and, indeed, difficult as the task will be to me, I shall devote part of my energies to her reformation and salvation."
Though Alexey Alexandrovitch was perfectly aware that he could not exert any moral influence over his wife, that such an attempt at reformation could lead to nothing but falsity; though in passing through these difficult moments he had not once thought of seeking guidance in religion, yet now, when his conclusion corresponded, as it seemed to him, with the requirements of religion, this religious sanction to his decision gave him complete satisfaction, and to some extent restored his peace of mind.
He was pleased to think that, even in such an important crisis in life, no one would be able to say that he had not acted in accordance with the principles of that religion whose banner he had always held aloft amid the general coolness and indifference.
As he pondered over subsequent developments, Alexey Alexandrovitch did not see, indeed, why his relations with his wife should not remain practically the same as before.
No doubt, she could never regain his esteem, but there was not, and there could not be, any sort of reason that his existence should be troubled, and that he should suffer because she was a bad and faithless wife.
"Yes, time will pass; time, which arranges all things, and the old relations will be reestablished," Alexey Alexandrovitch told himself; "so far reestablished, that is, that I shall not be sensible of a break in the continuity of my life.
She is bound to be unhappy, but I am not to blame, and so I cannot be unhappy."
Chapter 14
As he neared Petersburg, Alexey Alexandrovitch not only adhered entirely to his decision, but was even composing in his head the letter he would write to his wife.
Going into the porter's room, Alexey Alexandrovitch glanced at the letters and papers brought from his office, and directed that they should be brought to him in his study.
"The horses can be taken out and I will see no one," he said in answer to the porter, with a certain pleasure, indicative of his agreeable frame of mind, emphasizing the words, "see no one."
In his study Alexey Alexandrovitch walked up and down twice, and stopped at an immense writing-table, on which six candles had already been lighted by the valet who had preceded him. He cracked his knuckles and sat down, sorting out his writing appurtenances.
Putting his elbows on the table, he bent his head on one side, thought a minute, and began to write, without pausing for a second.
He wrote without using any form of address to her, and wrote in French, making use of the plural "_vous_," which has not the same note of coldness as the corresponding Russian form.
"At our last conversation, I notified you of my intention to communicate to you my decision in regard to the subject of that conversation.
Having carefully considered everything, I am writing now with the object of fulfilling that promise.
My decision is as follows. Whatever your conduct may have been, I do not consider myself justified in breaking the ties in which we are bound by a Higher Power.
The family cannot be broken up by a whim, a caprice, or even by the sin of one of the partners in the marriage, and our life must go on as it has done in the past.
This is essential for me, for you, and for our son.
I am fully persuaded that you have repented and do repent of what has called forth the present letter, and that you will cooperate with me in eradicating the cause of our estrangement, and forgetting the past.
In the contrary event, you can conjecture what awaits you and your son.
All this I hope to discuss more in detail in a personal interview.
As the season is drawing to a close, I would beg you to return to Petersburg as quickly as possible, not later than Tuesday.
All necessary preparations shall be made for your arrival here.
I beg you to note that I attach particular significance to compliance with this request.
A. Karenin
"P.S.--I enclose the money which may be needed for your expenses."
He read the letter through and felt pleased with it, and especially that he had remembered to enclose money: there was not a harsh word, not a reproach in it, nor was there undue indulgence.
Most of all, it was a golden bridge for return.
Folding the letter and smoothing it with a massive ivory knife, and putting it in an envelope with the money, he rang the bell with the gratification it always afforded him to use the well arranged appointments of his writing-table.
"Give this to the courier to be delivered to Anna Arkadyevna tomorrow at the summer villa," he said, getting up.
"Certainly, your excellency; tea to be served in the study?"
Alexey Alexandrovitch ordered tea to be brought to the study, and playing with the massive paper-knife, he moved to his easy chair, near which there had been placed ready for him a lamp and the French work on Egyptian hieroglyphics that he had begun.
Over the easy chair there hung in a gold frame an oval portrait of Anna, a fine painting by a celebrated artist.
Alexey Alexandrovitch glanced at it.
The unfathomable eyes gazed ironically and insolently at him.
Insufferably insolent and challenging was the effect in Alexey Alexandrovitch's eyes of the black lace about the head, admirably touched in by the painter, the black hair and handsome white hand with one finger lifted, covered with rings.
After looking at the portrait for a minute, Alexey Alexandrovitch shuddered so that his lips quivered and he uttered the sound "brrr," and turned away.
He made haste to sit down in his easy chair and opened the book.
He tried to read, but he could not revive the very vivid interest he had felt before in Egyptian hieroglyphics.
He looked at the book and thought of something else.