Dolly was glad when Anna came in, and by her entrance put a stop

to Annushka's gossip.

Anna had put on a very simple batiste gown. Dolly scrutinized

that simple gown attentively. She knew what it meant, and the

price at which such simplicity was obtained.

"An old friend," said Anna of Annushka.

Anna was not embarrassed now. She was perfectly composed and at

ease. Dolly saw that she had now completely recovered from the

impression her arrival had made on her, and had assumed that

superficial, careless tone which, as it were, closed the door on

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that compartment in which her deeper feelings and ideas were

kept.

"Well, Anna, and how is your little girl?" asked Dolly.

"Annie?" (This was what she called her little daughter Anna.)

"Very well. She has got on wonderfully. Would you like to see

her? Come, I'll show her to you. We had a terrible bother," she

began telling her, "over nurses. We had an Italian wet-nurse. A

good creature, but so stupid! We wanted to get rid of her, but

the baby is so used to her that we've gone on keeping her still."

"But how have you managed?..." Dolly was beginning a question

as to what name the little girl would have; but noticing a sudden

frown on Anna's face, she changed the drift of her question.

"How did you manage? have you weaned her yet?"

But Anna had understood.

"You didn't mean to ask that? You meant to ask about her

surname. Yes? That worries Alexey. She has no name--that is,

she's a Karenina," said Anna, dropping her eyelids till nothing

could be seen but the eyelashes meeting. "But we'll talk about

all that later," her face suddenly brightening. "Come, I'll show

you her. _Elle est tres gentille_. She crawls now."

In the nursery the luxury which had impressed Dolly in the whole

house struck her still more. There were little go-carts ordered

from England, and appliances for learning to walk, and a sofa

after the fashion of a billiard table, purposely constructed for

crawling, and swings and baths, all of special pattern, and

modern. They were all English, solid, and of good make, and

obviously very expensive. The room was large, and very light and

lofty.

When they went in, the baby, with nothing on but her little smock,

was sitting in a little elbow chair at the table, having her

dinner of broth, which she was spilling all over her little chest.

The baby was being fed, and the Russian nursery maid was

evidently sharing her meal. Neither the wet-nurse nor the

head nurse were there; they were in the next room, from which

came the sound of their conversation in the queer French which

was their only means of communication.




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