As he passed through the entry to the galleries he met a dejected high school boy walking up and down with tired-looking eyes.
On the stairs he met a couple--a lady running quickly on her high heels and the jaunty deputy prosecutor.
"I told you you weren't late," the deputy prosecutor was saying at the moment when Levin moved aside to let the lady pass.
Levin was on the stairs to the way out, and was just feeling in his waistcoat pocket for the number of his overcoat, when the secretary overtook him. "This way, please, Konstantin Dmitrievitch; they are voting."
The candidate who was being voted on was Nevyedovsky, who had so stoutly denied all idea of standing.
Levin went up to the door of the room; it was locked.
The secretary knocked, the door opened, and Levin was met by two red-faced gentlemen, who darted out.
"I can't stand any more of it," said one red-faced gentleman.
After them the face of the marshal of the province was poked out.
His face was dreadful-looking from exhaustion and dismay.
"I told you not to let any one out!" he cried to the doorkeeper.
"I let someone in, your excellency!"
"Mercy on us!" and with a heavy sigh the marshal of the province walked with downcast head to the high table in the middle of the room, his legs staggering in his white trousers.
Nevyedovsky had scored a higher majority, as they had planned, and he was the new marshal of the province.
Many people were amused, many were pleased and happy, many were in ecstasies, many were disgusted and unhappy.
The former marshal of the province was in a state of despair, which he could not conceal.
When Nevyedovsky went out of the room, the crowd thronged round him and followed him enthusiastically, just as they had followed the governor who had opened the meetings, and just as they had followed Snetkov when he was elected.
Chapter 31
The newly elected marshal and many of the successful party dined that day with Vronsky.
Vronsky had come to the elections partly because he was bored in the country and wanted to show Anna his right to independence, and also to repay Sviazhsky by his support at the election for all the trouble he had taken for Vronsky at the district council election, but chiefly in order strictly to perform all those duties of a nobleman and landowner which he had taken upon himself.
But he had not in the least expected that the election would so interest him, so keenly excite him, and that he would be so good at this kind of thing.
He was quite a new man in the circle of the nobility of the province, but his success was unmistakable, and he was not wrong in supposing that he had already obtained a certain influence.
This influence was due to his wealth and reputation, the capital house in the town lent him by his old friend Shirkov, who had a post in the department of finances and was director of a flourishing bank in Kashin; the excellent cook Vronsky had brought from the country, and his friendship with the governor, who was a schoolfellow of Vronsky's--a schoolfellow he had patronized and protected indeed. But what contributed more than all to his success was his direct, equable manner with everyone, which very quickly made the majority of the noblemen reverse the current opinion of his supposed haughtiness.
He was himself conscious that, except that whimsical gentleman married to Kitty Shtcherbatskaya, who had _a propos de bottes_ poured out a stream of irrelevant absurdities with such spiteful fury, every nobleman with whom he had made acquaintance had become his adherent.
He saw clearly, and other people recognized it, too, that he had done a great deal to secure the success of Nevyedovsky.
And now at his own table, celebrating Nevyedovsky's election, he was experiencing an agreeable sense of triumph over the success of his candidate.
The election itself had so fascinated him that, if he could succeed in getting married during the next three years, he began to think of standing himself--much as after winning a race ridden by a jockey, he had longed to ride a race himself.
Today he was celebrating the success of his jockey.
Vronsky sat at the head of the table, on his right hand sat the young governor, a general of high rank.
To all the rest he was the chief man in the province, who had solemnly opened the elections with his speech, and aroused a feeling of respect and even of awe in many people, as Vronsky saw; to Vronsky he was little Katka Maslov--that had been his nickname in the Pages' Corps--whom he felt to be shy and tried to _mettre a son aise_.
On the left hand sat Nevyedovsky with his youthful, stubborn, and malignant face.
With him Vronsky was simple and deferential.
Sviazhsky took his failure very light-heartedly.
It was indeed no failure in his eyes, as he said himself, turning, glass in hand, to Nevyedovsky; they could not have found a better representative of the new movement, which the nobility ought to follow.
And so every honest person, as he said, was on the side of today's success and was rejoicing over it.
Stepan Arkadyevitch was glad, too, that he was having a good time, and that everyone was pleased.
The episode of the elections served as a good occasion for a capital dinner.
Sviazhsky comically imitated the tearful discourse of the marshal, and observed, addressing Nevyedovsky, that his excellency would have to select another more complicated method of auditing the accounts than tears.
Another nobleman jocosely described how footmen in stockings had been ordered for the marshal's ball, and how now they would have to be sent back unless the new marshal would give a ball with footmen in stockings.
Continually during dinner they said of Nevyedovsky: "our marshal," and "your excellency."
This was said with the same pleasure with which a bride is called "Madame" and her husband's name.
Nevyedovsky affected to be not merely indifferent but scornful of this appellation, but it was obvious that he was highly delighted, and had to keep a curb on himself not to betray the triumph which was unsuitable to their new liberal tone.
After dinner several telegrams were sent to people interested in the result of the election.
And Stepan Arkadyevitch, who was in high good humor, sent Darya Alexandrovna a telegram:
"Nevyedovsky elected by twenty votes.
Congratulations.
Tell people."
He dictated it aloud, saying:
"We must let them share our rejoicing."
Darya Alexandrovna, getting the message, simply sighed over the rouble wasted on it, and understood that it was an after-dinner affair.