He saw the smile, and a strange misapprehension came over him.
"She is smiling at my suspicions.
Yes, she will tell me directly what she told me before; that there is no foundation for my suspicions, that it's absurd."
At that moment, when the revelation of everything was hanging over him, there was nothing he expected so much as that she would answer mockingly as before that his suspicions were absurd and utterly groundless.
So terrible to him was what he knew that now he was ready to believe anything.
But the expression of her face, scared and gloomy, did not now promise even deception.
"Possibly I was mistaken," said he. "If so, I beg your pardon."
"No, you were not mistaken," she said deliberately, looking desperately into his cold face. "You were not mistaken.
I was, and I could not help being in despair.
I hear you, but I am thinking of him.
I love him, I am his mistress; I can't bear you; I'm afraid of you, and I hate you....
You can do what you like to me."
And dropping back into the corner of the carriage, she broke into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.
Alexey Alexandrovitch did not stir, and kept looking straight before him.
But his whole face suddenly bore the solemn rigidity of the dead, and his expression did not change during the whole time of the drive home.
On reaching the house he turned his head to her, still with the same expression.
"Very well!
But I expect a strict observance of the external forms of propriety till such time"--his voice shook--"as I may take measures to secure my honor and communicate them to you."
He got out first and helped her to get out.
Before the servants he pressed her hand, took his seat in the carriage, and drove back to Petersburg.
Immediately afterwards a footman came from Princess Betsy and brought Anna a note.
"I sent to Alexey to find out how he is, and he writes me he is quite well and unhurt, but in despair."
"So _he_ will be here," she thought. "What a good thing I told him all!"
She glanced at her watch.
She had still three hours to wait, and the memories of their last meeting set her blood in flame.
"My God, how light it is!
It's dreadful, but I do love to see his face, and I do love this fantastic light....
My husband! Oh! yes....
Well, thank God! everything's over with him."
Chapter 30.
In the little German watering-place to which the Shtcherbatskys had betaken themselves, as in all places indeed where people are gathered together, the usual process, as it were, of the crystallization of society went on, assigning to each member of that society a definite and unalterable place.
Just as the particle of water in frost, definitely and unalterably, takes the special form of the crystal of snow, so each new person that arrived at the springs was at once placed in his special place.
_Furst_ Shtcherbatsky, _sammt Gemahlin und Tochter_, by the apartments they took, and from their name and from the friends they made, were immediately crystallized into a definite place marked out for them.
There was visiting the watering-place that year a real German Furstin, in consequence of which the crystallizing process went on more vigorously than ever.
Princess Shtcherbatskaya wished, above everything, to present her daughter to this German princess, and the day after their arrival she duly performed this rite.
Kitty made a low and graceful curtsey in the _very simple_, that is to say, very elegant frock that had been ordered her from Paris.
The German princess said,
"I hope the roses will soon come back to this pretty little face," and for the Shtcherbatskys certain definite lines of existence were at once laid down from which there was no departing.
The Shtcherbatskys made the acquaintance too of the family of an English Lady Somebody, and of a German countess and her son, wounded in the last war, and of a learned Swede, and of M. Canut and his sister.
But yet inevitably the Shtcherbatskys were thrown most into the society of a Moscow lady, Marya Yevgenyevna Rtishtcheva and her daughter, whom Kitty disliked, because she had fallen ill, like herself, over a love affair, and a Moscow colonel, whom Kitty had known from childhood, and always seen in uniform and epaulets, and who now, with his little eyes and his open neck and flowered cravat, was uncommonly ridiculous and tedious, because there was no getting rid of him.
When all this was so firmly established, Kitty began to be very much bored, especially as the prince went away to Carlsbad and she was left alone with her mother.
She took no interest in the people she knew, feeling that nothing fresh would come of them.
Her chief mental interest in the watering-place consisted in watching and making theories about the people she did not know.
It was characteristic of Kitty that she always imagined everything in people in the most favorable light possible, especially so in those she did not know.
And now as she made surmises as to who people were, what were their relations to one another, and what they were like, Kitty endowed them with the most marvelous and noble characters, and found confirmation of her idea in her observations.
Of these people the one that attracted her most was a Russian girl who had come to the watering-place with an invalid Russian lady, Madame Stahl, as everyone called her.
Madame Stahl belonged to the highest society, but she was so ill that she could not walk, and only on exceptionally fine days made her appearance at the springs in an invalid carriage.
But it was not so much from ill-health as from pride--so Princess Shtcherbatskaya interpreted it--that Madame Stahl had not made the acquaintance of anyone among the Russians there.
The Russian girl looked after Madame Stahl, and besides that, she was, as Kitty observed, on friendly terms with all the invalids who were seriously ill, and there were many of them at the springs, and looked after them in the most natural way.
This Russian girl was not, as Kitty gathered, related to Madame Stahl, nor was she a paid attendant.