Vronsky understood now that this was Madame Karenina.

"Your brother is here," he said, standing up. "Excuse me, I did

not know you, and, indeed, our acquaintance was so slight," said

Vronsky, bowing, "that no doubt you do not remember me."

"Oh, no," said she, "I should have known you because your mother

and I have been talking, I think, of nothing but you all the

way." As she spoke she let the eagerness that would insist on

coming out show itself in her smile. "And still no sign of my

brother."

"Do call him, Alexey," said the old countess. Vronsky stepped

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out onto the platform and shouted: "Oblonsky! Here!"

Madame Karenina, however, did not wait for her brother, but

catching sight of him she stepped out with her light, resolute

step. And as soon as her brother had reached her, with a gesture

that struck Vronsky by its decision and its grace, she flung her

left arm around his neck, drew him rapidly to her, and kissed him

warmly. Vronsky gazed, never taking his eyes from her, and

smiled, he could not have said why. But recollecting that his

mother was waiting for him, he went back again into the carriage.

"She's very sweet, isn't she?" said the countess of Madame

Karenina. "Her husband put her with me, and I was delighted to

have her. We've been talking all the way. And so you, I

hear..._vous filez le parfait amour. Tant mieux, mon cher, tant

mieux._"

"I don't know what you are referring to, maman," he answered

coldly. "Come, maman, let us go."

Madame Karenina entered the carriage again to say good-bye to the

countess.

"Well, countess, you have met your son, and I my brother," she

said. "And all my gossip is exhausted. I should have nothing

more to tell you."

"Oh, no," said the countess, taking her hand. "I could go all

around the world with you and never be dull. You are one of

those delightful women in whose company it's sweet to be silent

as well as to talk. Now please don't fret over your son; you

can't expect never to be parted."

Madame Karenina stood quite still, holding herself very erect,

and her eyes were smiling.

"Anna Arkadyevna," the countess said in explanation to her son,

"has a little son eight years old, I believe, and she has never

been parted from him before, and she keeps fretting over leaving

him."




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