Anna Karenina does not belong to me, thank God, but was though up but
Tolstoy. FYI. Give him the credit. I've only read the first two parts so if
someone died and I didn't acknowledge that, I'm sorry. Deal with it. And
yes, I know Kitty does marry Levin in the book. So sue me. Also note that
all random names are from the list of characters in the front of the book.
As for this piece, it was an English homework assignment (my teacher said
it was "unlikely"), but I really liked it, so it edited it (and lengthened
it), and here it is. This is my first real fic, and I wrote some of it
during Chem (fascinating subject, really! *gag*) and the rest while
listening to random music. Enough said. Anyway, please R&R!
Memories
By Rhysla
Part I
"She had never imagined that the voicing of his love would make such a
strong impression on her."
~ 1 ~
Constantine Levin drummed his fingers nervously on his polished cherry-wood desk. His guest was due to arrive any minute now. He straightened his collar, keeping one eye on the long, dirt lane that led to his front door. He let his mind wander to try and ease his anxiety, and soon found himself reflecting on his life before. Before the scandal. Before she left. On such days as those he would spend a pleasant day in the city. Visiting his friends, and taking special care to spend time with Kitty. Kitty. He loved everything about her, including the perfect symmetry of her name. He loved the way it sounded when spoken in the crisp winter air. Loved the way the sound of it rolled off his tongue into her ears, the ears of a goddess on earth. Kitty. She was the guest he was waiting for. Kitty had professed her love to Alexis Vronsky two years ago, only to discover that he was deeply in love with Anna, the sister of Kitty's older sister's husband. Crushed, Kitty had fled the city, and had stayed with a distant aunt in the south for the duration of almost 23 months. Now she was home, after a short tour of the country. Two years. It was hard to believe. Two winters had passed, in which Levin could not skate with Kitty. Two Christmases had gone, in which Levin could not go to fancy parties and enjoy himself with Kitty. Two of her birthdays, which he could not celebrate with Kitty. Two long years. Now Kitty had reached 20 years of age. But Levin was too shy to ask again. He had told himself long ago that he would live and be happy without marriage. He would stick to that oath, but he still longed to see Kitty again. Levin did not doubt that she still retained her marvelous beauty. She would always be beautiful. Levin wanted to be there to witness that beauty, and watch it grow rather than fade away. Lost in his thought, he did not notice a large black carriage ambling along the lane until the horses had reached his front door, and were pawing the ground impatiently. Startled from his daydream, Levin walked rather stiffly to the door to greet his visitor. Kitty was back in the city now, and she intended to stay there, sheltered by her father. Kitty's mother had become ill when Kitty left for her aunt's little cottage. She grew steadily worse, until the consumption overwhelmed her frail body. She could have survived, but she had no will to fight it. Her daughter had left, and so had her spirit. Kitty's father was grief-stricken, and Kitty herself became a small shadowed ghost upon hearing of it. Kitty had not been of flesh again until only three weeks past. The sparkle was beginning to return to her eyes, but Levin felt that Kitty didn't want the sparkle anymore. She wanted to remain indiscreet and transparent, which was what she had become. Levin threw open the wide carved doors, and smiled cheerily at Kitty's driver. The driver did not return the favor, but merely dismounted from the carriage, and opened the black-laced door. Levin went to the carriage, and offered a calloused hand to the darkness. A slender white hand was placed in his, and Kitty Shcherbatskaya stepped into the hard country sunlight.
~ 2 ~
She was exactly as Levin remembered her, but for the slight addition of crow's feet at her striking eyes. Levin did not notice this subtle change at first. He was in awe of her, and of himself for having lived so long without being in the company of this Venus incarnate. "Konstantín! How are you?" she asked in a lilting voice that could pale the countenance of a white daisy. "Flourishing, my dear. But how are you? That trip seems to have tired you greatly," replied Levin, concern in his deep eyes. She laughed politely. "Kóstya, don't worry about me. Now, would you mind giving me a tour of your charming house?" She offered him a thin delicate arm, and he looped his large arm gratefully, but rather clumsily in hers. A smile reached Kitty's lips, and reflected in her eyes. Levin was still the same charming, and slightly oafish person, although she thought playfully that his lack of grace was slightly due to his love for her. She was glad that only her eyes were windows to her soul and that her eyes were directed towards the acres of forest and meadow land. It wouldn't do for him to see into her soul just now. The small flowering shrubs were drifting lazily in the wind, seemingly without a care in the world. Kitty envied their carefree swaying. They shared their happy thoughts with all who would see them. She could not bear for Levin to know what was in her heart. She loved him as well. Ever since he had courted her older sisters, Levin had always been kindly to her. His kindness and affection had grown until his eventual proposal. That was before. Before those times, when nobody trusted or cared about anybody else. Sighing inwardly, she reasoned that much hadn't changed. No one had paid any attention to her return unless they were digging for gossip and the seeds of rumors. Kitty was now terrified of those who had been her dearest friends. Kitty had no prestige in the elite class since her disappearance. She missed that status, and had plans that had amounted to an obsession to rejoin that life of wine and fancy parties. Since her mother had died, everyone seemed to think that she was broken; a small, empty shell, devoid of light. She would play this part, for a while. She would be a small phantom for now. Then she would return in all glory to the life she wanted. The life she believed she was meant for. Her mother had always told her that if she kept in the middle of the circle, nothing could touch her. But her mother had neglected to mention that as rich as the Shcherbatskaya family was, its members were still human, and not immune to pain. Kitty had realized this for the first time, when she declined Levin's offer of marriage. Her mother had hated Levin, but her father seemed to believe him a proper match for Kitty. But that was the past. Kitty looked over at Levin, still smiling. She had hated to turn him down, but she had hoped that Vronsky was in love with her. Kitty was just as disappointed as Levin. Both had professed their love, only to find that the receiving party had someone else in their minds and hearts. Levin seemed to have forgotten. She would make him think that she had as well. "Konstantín, this villa is splendid, all this open space. But don't you get lonely here, all alone in the country? Moscow is so very far away." Kitty's eyes were unreadable, aside from a thin glaze of happy unconcern. Her delicate smile was still set in place. "This place suits me. I like to keep to myself, present company excluded, of course," he added, mockingly hastily. Kitty's smile lengthened, and she nodded at Levin. Levin smiled back, glad that Kitty still favored his slight humor. "And you even have a small pond! How wonderful! Oh, the days we used to spend on the skating pond in Moscow. Do you remember, Konstantín?" "Fond memories, yes, but they are not much more." Levin was shocked at himself. How could he have said that? Part of him was still upset that Kitty had done what her mother told her without listening to her own heart, but the rest of him still loved her. Levin looked away, scared that Kitty would see his face and read it, correctly or not. Kitty was shocked at well. She did not know if Levin meant this, or if something else inside of him made him say it. Levin hurriedly changed the subject. "Would you like to accompany me to the annual ball at the Andréevna's when I visit Moscow?" he asked quietly, asking himself why he even bothered. Kitty wasn't sure if she wanted to show Levin that she could fight fire with fire. Before she had completed her reasoning, she declined. "I am sorry, Konstantín, but I have plans for that night. There is a new opera performance that night. I do not wish to be absent from such a display of drama and art." "Very well. Perhaps we will see each other another time," he replied, straining to say each word with out emotion. Kitty turned away from Levin, walking towards her coach, parked in the drive. Levin followed her, wishing for the nightmare to end. But Kitty stomped straight over to the door, wrenching it open, without even waiting for the footman. The horses seemed to sense their mistress's distress, and whinnied loudly, trampling the dry earth with shoed hooves. Their black eyes locked with Levin's momentarily, as if daring him to distress their mistress more. Levin continued past the horses, to the carriage door. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced when the lace draperies were pulled shut, enclosing Kitty in a bubble of silence and black.
~ 3 ~
The next day Levin felt as if he had drunken a bottle of his brother's old vodka. His head pounded endlessly, and his eyes were red from restrained weeping. He spent the day setting his affairs in order, as he would be leaving for Moscow that evening. The Petritsky's ball seemed to loom ever closer as each hour passed. Finally, after the sun had long set, and there was no denying that the clock read 8:45, Levin pulled on his traveling cloak with a sigh, and climbed into the back of his large carriage.
After a few hours, Levin was jolted out of his slight stupor as the carriage shuddered to a halt. They had arrived at his town house in Moscow. A small, homey place, it was well furnished, and reminded Levin of his country estate. He helped the doorman bring his luggage into the entryway, and then heaved his heavy bags up a flight of stairs. After some hasty unpacking, he collapsed into bed. The party was still drawing nearer. He drew a spark of happiness when he thought that he might see Kitty there, but then it died when he remembered that Kitty was going to be at an opera.
Fine. If Kitty was going to the opera, then so was he. He dragged himself out of bed, his new hope surging through his veins. Flipping through a newspaper downstairs, he found the opera listings, and saw that a new performance was indeed starting the night of the Petritsky's party. A rendition of Shakespeare. Levin would be there. He quickly penned a note to the Petritskys, telling them that he would not be attending the party after all. The next night he dressed in thick but discreet furs. He did not want to attract attention. If he saw Kitty at the opera, then he would say that he was meeting a friend. But whom? He did not know many people in the city, and he doubted that any of that number would be there. And what if she didn't believe him? Levin began to tremble slightly. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Resolutely, he strolled outside. He would wait at the theater all night, if it meant seeing Kitty. He would make her believe him. He would apologize and ask for forgiveness. He was sure it would work. Kitty was kind; she would forgive him. As Levin reached the theater he started to tremble anew. The reality of what lay before him was too much. He loved Kitty and he knew it. Now he just had to make her know it as well.
~ 4 ~
Kitty shivered in the cool Moscow wind. Her dressmaker had assured Kitty that this dress was the latest fashion, but why did it have to be so light? And so low-cut for that matter. The cold had to be endured, she thought. After the fitting for the dress, and the hour spent perfecting her lip rogue, Kitty was definitely attending the social event. The opera was a grand way to strengthen old ties, and as she was almost cut off from Russia's elite, these ties would help her to secure her old space in the circle. She shivered again, this time not from the cold. How could she have said those things to Levin? She still loved him, deep in her soul, and even if she didn't admit that truth, Levin was her friend in the least. Friends don't lie, she thought, and neither will I. Kitty immediately returned to her drawing room, and sent an urgent telegraph to her friend Madame Várenka to see if a last-minute invitation to the ball could be secured.
~ 5 ~
The graceful words of the opera were lost upon Levin. The production company was from England, and so the entire feel of the play was barbaric to Levin. Their horses reflect the only things the English ever do right. Levin slumped moodily into his furs. The opera air was warm, but he was still cold. Kitty's harsh words gritted upon his mind. He felt as if Jack Frost and Cupid were spinning tops inside his head. Carving through his mind, reaching his soul. Levin sighed. Kitty had not arrived yet. A few times, he thought he caught a glimpse of her radiant hair, or heard the high lilt of her laugh. But each time it was an imposter, and every imposter seemed to laugh at him, and scorn his love. Levin's eyes narrowed with anger. Why did they mock him as well? Perhaps Kitty sent them there, to giggle at him. Each wave of sound a dagger to his heart.
By the time the opera had ended, Levin was almost fuming. Kitty had planned this all. She told him she would come, and then did not. She did this to hurt him; he knew it. But then Levin thought of Kitty's smile. And the way her eyes lit up when she was happy. Every bad thought melted away with Levin's final sigh. He loved Kitty with all of his heart. Levin stood up, limbs creaking from either nonuse, or from the emptiness in his soul.
~ 6 ~
Kitty's fortune was better, if still in the end unsuccessful. The ball was wonderful, the food excellent. And Kitty was sure that her social status had raised a notch of two. She flirted with every soldier and diplomat there, and gossiped with every city lady. She would constantly raise her head throughout the night, eyes searching for her old friend. He had said he would be there. Kitty knew that Levin was a man who would stick to his word. If that was so, then where was he? A dilemma besides not seeing Levin was seeing Levin. Kitty's main goal was to reconcile her feelings, but she wondered if her newly reborn social conscience would allow her to chat, or even look at Levin. For all his manners and good graces, Levin was still a farmer, plain and simple. Kitty had just re- entered this new life of diamond shards and light. She did not know if she could risk it for a friend. By the end of the night she told herself that she was lucky to not have had to make that choice. Levin did not show. Fleeting panicky thoughts jumped through her head. Was Levin hurt? Had his carriage struck a rock on the way? Was he lying injured somewhere? Alone?
But then Kitty opened her eyes and saw the crystal world she had missed so much. Levin would be fine. She could enjoy this fairyland tonight. Tomorrow she would worry. Tomorrow she would care.
~ 7 ~
Darya Shcherbatskaya woke up early the next morning, planning to take a morning stroll with her two children. The sunlight was a picture show upon the snow, and Dolly was enjoying this version of theater as she dressed herself in warm clothing. Her maid was now assisting the children to follow suit. Gathering her skirts together, she walked down the stairs and into the crisp air of the foyer. Tanya was the first down. Dolly smiled to herself. Tanya would leave the household as soon as a suitable husband was found. Dolly cherished this time she spent with her. Within a few moments, the rest of the children had tumbled down the stairs, and were waiting anxiously for their mother to lead them out. Grisha finally broke the silence.
"Mama?" he questioned innocently.
"Yes, of course." Dolly had been caught up in a short moment of peace. All of her children were happy, as was she. Dolly nodded to one of the attendants standing nearby. He bowed to his mother, and then opened on the large brass doors, cutting an elegant leg, as if the maelstrom of snow and cold was a grand ball, which, in a sense, it was.
After their walk, Dolly and the children returned home to hot drink and a fire. A few of the children had fallen asleep when Dolly felt a tap on her shoulder. A maid whispered in her ear that someone had come to call on her.
Dolly gently lifted Grishna's head off of her lap, and went to the door, her skirts silent from easy practice.
Upon reaching the guest's parlor, she saw that her visitor was a man, and very nervous. Dolly shut the door with more vigor than she would normally as if to frighten her visitor out of a shell. He looked up, startled, and Dolly then realized that it was Levin.
"Konstantín! How are you? We haven't spoken for ages, have we?" she asked with a smile.
"I'm fine, fine. How are the children?" Levin asked, obviously preoccupied.
"Well. They fare much better than you have, my friend. What is wrong?" Dolly seemed to lace her questions with a motherly aura as potent as alcohol. Levin's defenses collapsed, and the words tumbled out of his mouth.
"Kitty. It's Kitty. She is everywhere. My heart, my eyes, my mind, she is a goddess of love and nightmares. One of God's Own Angels."
"Certainly her beauty and grace has not turned into divinity?" questioned Dolly with a soft voice.
"Oh, but it has. I would not give my care to a messenger of Providence, but I would lay down my life for my own angel. She is the sky, and she is the sun."
Dolly pursed her lips in thought. Dolly had seen this kind of lovesickness before. Seen it turn into neglecting, rejection, and then adultery.
"Be careful, Konstantín. Love can tricky," she replied.
"I know, I know. I've read the authorities, seen Shakespeare's creed in play, and observed the crumbling passion between my friends. I know what love is. I also know that it chooses a different course between every different person. I love Kitty, and she could love me. I think she does. Or she should." With this last sentence, Levin heaved a sigh that could blow the fire from the sun. He blinked tears from his eyes, and smiled weakly at Dolly. Dolly did not know what she should do to comfort her friend.
"If it helps your thoughts find a direction, my friend, Kitty's heart is not out of your grasp. She feels that she has done you wrong, and would certainly like to remain your acquaintance, if not more. Be persistent and genuine. You might be surprised." With that Dolly reached over and grasped his hand in reassurance. Levin was grateful for the gesture, and clung to her hand as if her hand represented the idol on which his dreams were bent.
"Thank you, Dollinka. I will treasure your council, and try to find the courage to match my words." With a final nod, Levin left the parlor, leaving the door to the whitewashed kitchen open, as if inviting Dolly to follow him and assist him in reaching Kitty's heart.
~ 8 ~
Levin asked his carriage driver to stop in the central square of Moscow for a moment. His starry eyes roved around the plaza until he noticed a young girl selling flowers. He purchased an armful of roses the color of cotton, and pressed a pocketful of coins as well as the change from his purchase into the girl's hand, which was gray with cold and chaffed with work. Her face offered just gratitude, and Levin replied with a smile before ascending the steps into his carriage. He directed that he be taken to the Shcherbatsky's city residence, and spent the time straightening every pearly petal, imagining each another lock to Kitty's soul, opened.
~ 9 ~
Levin straightened his collar as he cautiously ambled up to the Shcherbatsky's home. He licked his lips nervously, and rapped his calloused knuckles on the mahogany door. 'If in bronze, this woodwork could rival Ghiberti,' Levin thought to himself. 'But these are the true gates to Paradise.' At that point Prince Alexander Dmítrievich opened the door, and greeted Levin with a warm smile.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Levin!" chuckled the elder gentleman amiably.
"Yes, sir. I was wondering if the young princess was in?" Dmítrievich grinned wryly. He had always believed Levin was a good match for Kitty. Now it seemed his tedious prodding was bearing fruit.
"I am sorry, Konstantín, but Katerína is at the Garden with an acquaintance of hers. She will return later this evening, unless you plan on calling on her at the rink." He said this all with the air of a wise matchmaker, but in Levin's hopeful eyes, he became one.
With a polite farewell and a nod of thanks, Levin retreated towards the welcoming shadows of his carriage, the white feathers of snow forming encouraging drifts behind him as he went.
~ 10 ~
He instructed his serving man to head towards the Zoological Gardens, and sat back in the enveloping seat, thinking of everything and nothing. When the driver shouted to him that the carriage had reached its destination, Levin climbed out, and seemed to skip to the lake, imagining himself gliding across its serene service with Kitty in his arms. Levin pulled his coat up to his chin, not wishing to be noticed or recognized at the moment, and asked for a pair of skates. He clumsily put them on, cold fingers fumbling with the ties. But once he was on the ice, he lost his awkwardness, and skated in long circles, his gray eyes roving the waltz performed in the crisp air of winter.
Levin finally saw Kitty, floating in slow, almost mournful arcs. He pulled the last ounce of mettle he could find from his fingertips, and moved towards Kitty, his feet pushing the ice away as gracefully as he pushed away his own doubts.
"Kátia, its wonderful to see you again," he said with a smile. Kitty's eyes flashed for a moment, then calmed, and seemed to deepen.
"I did not expect to see you here, Levin," she replied sharply.
"Indeed. I had merely hoped we could engage in friendly conversation, forget recent blemishes on our friendship." Kitty smiled again, and this time the smile filtered up to her eyes, and seemed to radiate from them. Levin caught his breath, and his mind swam, as he realized that their love wasn't all spent on spite.
At that point, Natálya Alexándrovna, Kitty's elder sister, came over towards the pair, as she sensed Kitty needed help in turning away this buffoon. Her toes chipped sharply against the ice as she called out a greeting to Kitty.
"Princess, how lovely to see you," supplemented Levin. "How is your husband?"
"He is well." She turned sharply to Kitty. "Why are you consorting with the country gentry so, sister?" Kitty was speechless, appalled at her sister's impression. "What business have you here?" asked Natálya, returning to Levin. Levin stammered an apology, and looked to Kitty for help. But his plea was unanswered.
Kitty reached for her sister's arm. "Indeed, Konstantín, you have no business here. I will return your visit some other time." Levin slipped backwards, stumbling slightly on a hidden patch of black ice before regaining his balance.
"Very well," he replied. "By your leave, I will depart. Another time, Princess," he said, nodding his head to Kitty. Kitty kept her eyes hard and leveled, albeit for a small flash of sympathy and apology. Levin caught the flash, but was more annoyed than relieved. If Kitty was to play her own game, then that was for her to decide. Meanwhile, Levin would return home, and reflect. Why had Kitty refused him? A small voice in his soul whispered that the reason was that Kitty was foolish and vain, caring nothing for him or his feelings. The voice said that Kitty was the problem. But Levin silenced the voice, and tried to think of ways in which to win Kitty's heart.
~ 11 ~
Kitty spent the rest of the afternoon with her sister, and then returned home after seeing Natálya off. She awoke the next morning to find that she had received a note from Levin. It was an invitation to a poetry reading in the local book shop the next day, and asked that Kitty attend it as Levin's guest. Kitty had made up her mind to go after a secondary perusal, and contemplated how the situation could possibly occur. And how it could end.
~ 12 ~
She arrived the next morning at the shop, and saw that Levin had been waiting for her. Kitty pretended not to notice him at first, her indifference turning him into a waif, in more than just her own thought. A tired-looking patriarch stepped to the center of the room and began reciting from an ancient tome. Kitty, the least bit interested, circumscribed around the room, while Levin did the same. Levin shot her looks of pitiful devotion, and impatient questioning. Kitty replied in her own fashion. While she did indeed find Levin an agreeable potential partner, Levin was not connected to any of Moscow's fine social circles, and Kitty was even more fiercely determined to keep hold of the one commodity in her life. She gave glances of sympathy altered by stares of aloofness. Her morse code of countenances gave Levin the message she intended, but not the message he wanted to hear. He sneered and stalked out of the room, causing the reader to pause in his monotonous tirade, an act unnoticed by the sleepy crowd. Kitty bit her lip in self-disgust. She really liked Levin. Why couldn't he understand that she was doing this for the promotion of her future? Couldn't he understand that as Kitty was losing some petals, she needed to find a supportive and good husband before she wilted completely? She would go after him, and make him understand.
~ 13 ~
But Levin understood more than she thought. Once he deciphered Kitty's actions, he realized that there was little hope for such a beauty. How could she be so superficial? How could her thoughts be bent on so trivial and meaningless a thing, the lesser of the four Bohemian ideals? He clenched his hand together, almost as if he holding on tightly to his pain and surprise. Maybe this pain he felt near her had become such a part of Kitty, that to lose the pain would be to lose his goddess. But she was as corrupt as any Olympian deity. And she was no Chloris. She could not defend her honor if she had none. Levin curled his upper lip, and was sinfully pleased when he saw the look of horror on Kitty's face. He turned sharply on his heels and walked out of the room, stepping lightly and attempting to stomp at the same time. The resulting thump resonated through the quiet room. Levin hoped that every beat drove itself cruelly into Kitty's heart, if such a thing could be found.
~ 14 ~
Levin had already created a path a few lengths from the door when he felt a small touch on his shoulder, as if a friendly dove had lighted on him reassuringly. He turned around with a smile, but it quickly became a frown. Kitty was standing there, her large eyes imploring and confused.
"Konstantín, what happened? Why did you leave so soon? Was the poetry not in your taste, or did you find my company unwanted?" She pursed her lips slightly at the end of her speech, and allowed the bottom lip to quiver, which beyond giving the look of pity, translated into a pathetic countenance in Levin's eyes. What was she thinking? Levin looked down at his open, cold hand. Blisters had formed from working on his farm, leaving his palm bitter and hard. It would be so easy.. It would all end. all the pain and-Levin quickly came to his senses and stuffed his newly clenched fist into his breeches pocket. His face softened involuntarily, and his eyes lost their depth, as he began to drown in Kitty's beauty and innocence. He stumbled for words before he finally began.
"I was merely surprised, my dear Kitty. I had thought that we were to spend some time together, but you had seemed to believe otherwise." Levin stopped slowly, studying Kitty's face, and looking for an answer.
"Oh, Konstantín. It was necessary, don't you see? My image is shattered since I have been gone. I must think of my future. Of my future husband." Kitty finished this declaration with a flourish, as if it was the most obvious statement she had ever made. Levin's jaw worked and he mouthed soundlessly, while he seemed to swell with fury; his eyes turning a stormy dark gray.
"Do you remember the question I asked you a very long time ago, right before your trip?" Levin struggled to get his emotions under control. He was a Stoic at heart, and an unnecessary outburst would not help him at this time. Kitty blinked furiously, her conscience wandering inside her head, looking for the answer to Levin's question.
"Oh yes, I remember now. You asked me to be your wife. What a silly question that was. You are a very nice person, Levin, but I would never marry you. You have no social prestige." Levin stare disbelievingly, mutely shaking his head.
"Is that all that matters to you?" he asked in a deadly whisper, his words dripping poison. "Social status?"
"Of course," replied Kitty, this new attack only fazing her for a minute. "You were much too poor when you asked me the last time." Levin was still dumbfounded, and stalked away, shying from the imagined flutter of white gloved finger, leaving Kitty standing alone to slowly ponder Levin's replies, her face turning ash gray when she finally realized that Levin still loved her.
~ 15 ~
The following day Kitty awoke early in order to meet her friends in the village. After a short afternoon spent perusing the markets, they conversed for a long while in the lilting style so common with the ignorant. But soon that talk turned in a way Kitty did not foresee or wish.
"Katerína, there has been talk that you are seeing that countryman who calls himself a noble again. Is it not true?" Kitty's friend, Elizavéta asked slowly.
"No, no of course not, Betsy. I indulge him for the sake of our old friendship, but we have never reached any level higher than that. Nor do I wish that it will." Kitty was almost panicky. She would not lose her reputation over petty rumors.
"Well, now is your chance to prove your words," said Marya, another of Kitty's friends. "Because he is right over there."
Kitty turned suddenly, the breath catching in her throat. Levin was indeed standing by a small flower shop. He had noticed Kitty, but gave no glance of recognition or hope. He was beyond hope.
"This is a futile exercise. I said I do not think anything of Levin, and I stand by those words." Kitty glared at her friends with level eyes, but her slighting quivering lip told her friends that she was bluffing. Elizavéta shook her head slowly.
"No, I don't think so, Kitty darling. Do us this little favor, for your friends." But the speaker's eyes betrayed the denotation of her words. Kitty had to denounce Levin or her friends. She chose the former.
Kitty slowly rose from her chair with the air of a queen, and her face was just as blank and unreadable. Levin saw her through his frost- covered eyelashes. He made no obvious movement, but his jaw worked slightly, and his scared eyes darted from the vision her beauty to his right, and the lily, whose color matched his face, he was supposedly examining.
"Konstantín, it is, as always, a pleasure to see you, but I am afraid your trip here has been wasted." Levin was attempting to gulp down his nervousness. How could she stand there, so composed, when he was ready to prostrate himself at her feet, craving alms from such an angel. "For you see, it is hopeless for you to love me, for I will never return the favor," she continued, the coldness of her voice reflecting in the falling snow flurries. "How can you say this?" he stammered. "Are these your true feelings?" Her nodding head made a Siren's howl echo through his mind until he noticed the "no" that could plainly be discerned in her eyes. His brows knit together inquisitively. Perhaps was her father forcing her to say these things? But no, her father liked Levin, and hoped for a marriage. Then who? He searched Kitty's face for an answer. Just then Kitty darted her wide eyes to her friends, who were seated a dozen yards away, watching intently. His emotions caught in his throat, where they smoldered, and then returned with red sparks of anger. His eyes flashed, and Kitty took a half-step back. Kitty was again concerned for her self-image more than her true feelings for him. She would again break his heart to bring her pride a notch higher. His cheeks rose slightly in a silent snarl, and his eyes narrowed. "You choose your friends, Princess, very well. Now we say farewell." Levin bowed courteously, but his eyes never left her pained face. He lurched towards his carriage, and his dark silhouette was soon lost in a tempest of small snowflakes. Kitty returned to her friends, who tried to congratulate her on her fortitude, but she merely replied that she wasn't feeling well. She returned home, where she sat for not a few long moments staring at the fire built in the cheery parlor. After even the tongues of flame began to accuse her, she moved to the entryway on her way to her room. She found a plain white envelope on the table there, which contained a hastily written note in handwriting she recognized as belonging to one of Levin's servants. It merely said that Levin was returning to his country home, and wished Kitty a long and prosperous life. Levin had signed it at the bottom in the quick, sharp script he reserved for business transactions. Kitty clutched the letter to her, and ran up the long stairs to her rooms, where she collapsed on a crimson colored sofa, sobbing into the forgiving silk.
Memories
By Rhysla
Part I
"She had never imagined that the voicing of his love would make such a
strong impression on her."
~ 1 ~
Constantine Levin drummed his fingers nervously on his polished cherry-wood desk. His guest was due to arrive any minute now. He straightened his collar, keeping one eye on the long, dirt lane that led to his front door. He let his mind wander to try and ease his anxiety, and soon found himself reflecting on his life before. Before the scandal. Before she left. On such days as those he would spend a pleasant day in the city. Visiting his friends, and taking special care to spend time with Kitty. Kitty. He loved everything about her, including the perfect symmetry of her name. He loved the way it sounded when spoken in the crisp winter air. Loved the way the sound of it rolled off his tongue into her ears, the ears of a goddess on earth. Kitty. She was the guest he was waiting for. Kitty had professed her love to Alexis Vronsky two years ago, only to discover that he was deeply in love with Anna, the sister of Kitty's older sister's husband. Crushed, Kitty had fled the city, and had stayed with a distant aunt in the south for the duration of almost 23 months. Now she was home, after a short tour of the country. Two years. It was hard to believe. Two winters had passed, in which Levin could not skate with Kitty. Two Christmases had gone, in which Levin could not go to fancy parties and enjoy himself with Kitty. Two of her birthdays, which he could not celebrate with Kitty. Two long years. Now Kitty had reached 20 years of age. But Levin was too shy to ask again. He had told himself long ago that he would live and be happy without marriage. He would stick to that oath, but he still longed to see Kitty again. Levin did not doubt that she still retained her marvelous beauty. She would always be beautiful. Levin wanted to be there to witness that beauty, and watch it grow rather than fade away. Lost in his thought, he did not notice a large black carriage ambling along the lane until the horses had reached his front door, and were pawing the ground impatiently. Startled from his daydream, Levin walked rather stiffly to the door to greet his visitor. Kitty was back in the city now, and she intended to stay there, sheltered by her father. Kitty's mother had become ill when Kitty left for her aunt's little cottage. She grew steadily worse, until the consumption overwhelmed her frail body. She could have survived, but she had no will to fight it. Her daughter had left, and so had her spirit. Kitty's father was grief-stricken, and Kitty herself became a small shadowed ghost upon hearing of it. Kitty had not been of flesh again until only three weeks past. The sparkle was beginning to return to her eyes, but Levin felt that Kitty didn't want the sparkle anymore. She wanted to remain indiscreet and transparent, which was what she had become. Levin threw open the wide carved doors, and smiled cheerily at Kitty's driver. The driver did not return the favor, but merely dismounted from the carriage, and opened the black-laced door. Levin went to the carriage, and offered a calloused hand to the darkness. A slender white hand was placed in his, and Kitty Shcherbatskaya stepped into the hard country sunlight.
~ 2 ~
She was exactly as Levin remembered her, but for the slight addition of crow's feet at her striking eyes. Levin did not notice this subtle change at first. He was in awe of her, and of himself for having lived so long without being in the company of this Venus incarnate. "Konstantín! How are you?" she asked in a lilting voice that could pale the countenance of a white daisy. "Flourishing, my dear. But how are you? That trip seems to have tired you greatly," replied Levin, concern in his deep eyes. She laughed politely. "Kóstya, don't worry about me. Now, would you mind giving me a tour of your charming house?" She offered him a thin delicate arm, and he looped his large arm gratefully, but rather clumsily in hers. A smile reached Kitty's lips, and reflected in her eyes. Levin was still the same charming, and slightly oafish person, although she thought playfully that his lack of grace was slightly due to his love for her. She was glad that only her eyes were windows to her soul and that her eyes were directed towards the acres of forest and meadow land. It wouldn't do for him to see into her soul just now. The small flowering shrubs were drifting lazily in the wind, seemingly without a care in the world. Kitty envied their carefree swaying. They shared their happy thoughts with all who would see them. She could not bear for Levin to know what was in her heart. She loved him as well. Ever since he had courted her older sisters, Levin had always been kindly to her. His kindness and affection had grown until his eventual proposal. That was before. Before those times, when nobody trusted or cared about anybody else. Sighing inwardly, she reasoned that much hadn't changed. No one had paid any attention to her return unless they were digging for gossip and the seeds of rumors. Kitty was now terrified of those who had been her dearest friends. Kitty had no prestige in the elite class since her disappearance. She missed that status, and had plans that had amounted to an obsession to rejoin that life of wine and fancy parties. Since her mother had died, everyone seemed to think that she was broken; a small, empty shell, devoid of light. She would play this part, for a while. She would be a small phantom for now. Then she would return in all glory to the life she wanted. The life she believed she was meant for. Her mother had always told her that if she kept in the middle of the circle, nothing could touch her. But her mother had neglected to mention that as rich as the Shcherbatskaya family was, its members were still human, and not immune to pain. Kitty had realized this for the first time, when she declined Levin's offer of marriage. Her mother had hated Levin, but her father seemed to believe him a proper match for Kitty. But that was the past. Kitty looked over at Levin, still smiling. She had hated to turn him down, but she had hoped that Vronsky was in love with her. Kitty was just as disappointed as Levin. Both had professed their love, only to find that the receiving party had someone else in their minds and hearts. Levin seemed to have forgotten. She would make him think that she had as well. "Konstantín, this villa is splendid, all this open space. But don't you get lonely here, all alone in the country? Moscow is so very far away." Kitty's eyes were unreadable, aside from a thin glaze of happy unconcern. Her delicate smile was still set in place. "This place suits me. I like to keep to myself, present company excluded, of course," he added, mockingly hastily. Kitty's smile lengthened, and she nodded at Levin. Levin smiled back, glad that Kitty still favored his slight humor. "And you even have a small pond! How wonderful! Oh, the days we used to spend on the skating pond in Moscow. Do you remember, Konstantín?" "Fond memories, yes, but they are not much more." Levin was shocked at himself. How could he have said that? Part of him was still upset that Kitty had done what her mother told her without listening to her own heart, but the rest of him still loved her. Levin looked away, scared that Kitty would see his face and read it, correctly or not. Kitty was shocked at well. She did not know if Levin meant this, or if something else inside of him made him say it. Levin hurriedly changed the subject. "Would you like to accompany me to the annual ball at the Andréevna's when I visit Moscow?" he asked quietly, asking himself why he even bothered. Kitty wasn't sure if she wanted to show Levin that she could fight fire with fire. Before she had completed her reasoning, she declined. "I am sorry, Konstantín, but I have plans for that night. There is a new opera performance that night. I do not wish to be absent from such a display of drama and art." "Very well. Perhaps we will see each other another time," he replied, straining to say each word with out emotion. Kitty turned away from Levin, walking towards her coach, parked in the drive. Levin followed her, wishing for the nightmare to end. But Kitty stomped straight over to the door, wrenching it open, without even waiting for the footman. The horses seemed to sense their mistress's distress, and whinnied loudly, trampling the dry earth with shoed hooves. Their black eyes locked with Levin's momentarily, as if daring him to distress their mistress more. Levin continued past the horses, to the carriage door. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced when the lace draperies were pulled shut, enclosing Kitty in a bubble of silence and black.
~ 3 ~
The next day Levin felt as if he had drunken a bottle of his brother's old vodka. His head pounded endlessly, and his eyes were red from restrained weeping. He spent the day setting his affairs in order, as he would be leaving for Moscow that evening. The Petritsky's ball seemed to loom ever closer as each hour passed. Finally, after the sun had long set, and there was no denying that the clock read 8:45, Levin pulled on his traveling cloak with a sigh, and climbed into the back of his large carriage.
After a few hours, Levin was jolted out of his slight stupor as the carriage shuddered to a halt. They had arrived at his town house in Moscow. A small, homey place, it was well furnished, and reminded Levin of his country estate. He helped the doorman bring his luggage into the entryway, and then heaved his heavy bags up a flight of stairs. After some hasty unpacking, he collapsed into bed. The party was still drawing nearer. He drew a spark of happiness when he thought that he might see Kitty there, but then it died when he remembered that Kitty was going to be at an opera.
Fine. If Kitty was going to the opera, then so was he. He dragged himself out of bed, his new hope surging through his veins. Flipping through a newspaper downstairs, he found the opera listings, and saw that a new performance was indeed starting the night of the Petritsky's party. A rendition of Shakespeare. Levin would be there. He quickly penned a note to the Petritskys, telling them that he would not be attending the party after all. The next night he dressed in thick but discreet furs. He did not want to attract attention. If he saw Kitty at the opera, then he would say that he was meeting a friend. But whom? He did not know many people in the city, and he doubted that any of that number would be there. And what if she didn't believe him? Levin began to tremble slightly. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Resolutely, he strolled outside. He would wait at the theater all night, if it meant seeing Kitty. He would make her believe him. He would apologize and ask for forgiveness. He was sure it would work. Kitty was kind; she would forgive him. As Levin reached the theater he started to tremble anew. The reality of what lay before him was too much. He loved Kitty and he knew it. Now he just had to make her know it as well.
~ 4 ~
Kitty shivered in the cool Moscow wind. Her dressmaker had assured Kitty that this dress was the latest fashion, but why did it have to be so light? And so low-cut for that matter. The cold had to be endured, she thought. After the fitting for the dress, and the hour spent perfecting her lip rogue, Kitty was definitely attending the social event. The opera was a grand way to strengthen old ties, and as she was almost cut off from Russia's elite, these ties would help her to secure her old space in the circle. She shivered again, this time not from the cold. How could she have said those things to Levin? She still loved him, deep in her soul, and even if she didn't admit that truth, Levin was her friend in the least. Friends don't lie, she thought, and neither will I. Kitty immediately returned to her drawing room, and sent an urgent telegraph to her friend Madame Várenka to see if a last-minute invitation to the ball could be secured.
~ 5 ~
The graceful words of the opera were lost upon Levin. The production company was from England, and so the entire feel of the play was barbaric to Levin. Their horses reflect the only things the English ever do right. Levin slumped moodily into his furs. The opera air was warm, but he was still cold. Kitty's harsh words gritted upon his mind. He felt as if Jack Frost and Cupid were spinning tops inside his head. Carving through his mind, reaching his soul. Levin sighed. Kitty had not arrived yet. A few times, he thought he caught a glimpse of her radiant hair, or heard the high lilt of her laugh. But each time it was an imposter, and every imposter seemed to laugh at him, and scorn his love. Levin's eyes narrowed with anger. Why did they mock him as well? Perhaps Kitty sent them there, to giggle at him. Each wave of sound a dagger to his heart.
By the time the opera had ended, Levin was almost fuming. Kitty had planned this all. She told him she would come, and then did not. She did this to hurt him; he knew it. But then Levin thought of Kitty's smile. And the way her eyes lit up when she was happy. Every bad thought melted away with Levin's final sigh. He loved Kitty with all of his heart. Levin stood up, limbs creaking from either nonuse, or from the emptiness in his soul.
~ 6 ~
Kitty's fortune was better, if still in the end unsuccessful. The ball was wonderful, the food excellent. And Kitty was sure that her social status had raised a notch of two. She flirted with every soldier and diplomat there, and gossiped with every city lady. She would constantly raise her head throughout the night, eyes searching for her old friend. He had said he would be there. Kitty knew that Levin was a man who would stick to his word. If that was so, then where was he? A dilemma besides not seeing Levin was seeing Levin. Kitty's main goal was to reconcile her feelings, but she wondered if her newly reborn social conscience would allow her to chat, or even look at Levin. For all his manners and good graces, Levin was still a farmer, plain and simple. Kitty had just re- entered this new life of diamond shards and light. She did not know if she could risk it for a friend. By the end of the night she told herself that she was lucky to not have had to make that choice. Levin did not show. Fleeting panicky thoughts jumped through her head. Was Levin hurt? Had his carriage struck a rock on the way? Was he lying injured somewhere? Alone?
But then Kitty opened her eyes and saw the crystal world she had missed so much. Levin would be fine. She could enjoy this fairyland tonight. Tomorrow she would worry. Tomorrow she would care.
~ 7 ~
Darya Shcherbatskaya woke up early the next morning, planning to take a morning stroll with her two children. The sunlight was a picture show upon the snow, and Dolly was enjoying this version of theater as she dressed herself in warm clothing. Her maid was now assisting the children to follow suit. Gathering her skirts together, she walked down the stairs and into the crisp air of the foyer. Tanya was the first down. Dolly smiled to herself. Tanya would leave the household as soon as a suitable husband was found. Dolly cherished this time she spent with her. Within a few moments, the rest of the children had tumbled down the stairs, and were waiting anxiously for their mother to lead them out. Grisha finally broke the silence.
"Mama?" he questioned innocently.
"Yes, of course." Dolly had been caught up in a short moment of peace. All of her children were happy, as was she. Dolly nodded to one of the attendants standing nearby. He bowed to his mother, and then opened on the large brass doors, cutting an elegant leg, as if the maelstrom of snow and cold was a grand ball, which, in a sense, it was.
After their walk, Dolly and the children returned home to hot drink and a fire. A few of the children had fallen asleep when Dolly felt a tap on her shoulder. A maid whispered in her ear that someone had come to call on her.
Dolly gently lifted Grishna's head off of her lap, and went to the door, her skirts silent from easy practice.
Upon reaching the guest's parlor, she saw that her visitor was a man, and very nervous. Dolly shut the door with more vigor than she would normally as if to frighten her visitor out of a shell. He looked up, startled, and Dolly then realized that it was Levin.
"Konstantín! How are you? We haven't spoken for ages, have we?" she asked with a smile.
"I'm fine, fine. How are the children?" Levin asked, obviously preoccupied.
"Well. They fare much better than you have, my friend. What is wrong?" Dolly seemed to lace her questions with a motherly aura as potent as alcohol. Levin's defenses collapsed, and the words tumbled out of his mouth.
"Kitty. It's Kitty. She is everywhere. My heart, my eyes, my mind, she is a goddess of love and nightmares. One of God's Own Angels."
"Certainly her beauty and grace has not turned into divinity?" questioned Dolly with a soft voice.
"Oh, but it has. I would not give my care to a messenger of Providence, but I would lay down my life for my own angel. She is the sky, and she is the sun."
Dolly pursed her lips in thought. Dolly had seen this kind of lovesickness before. Seen it turn into neglecting, rejection, and then adultery.
"Be careful, Konstantín. Love can tricky," she replied.
"I know, I know. I've read the authorities, seen Shakespeare's creed in play, and observed the crumbling passion between my friends. I know what love is. I also know that it chooses a different course between every different person. I love Kitty, and she could love me. I think she does. Or she should." With this last sentence, Levin heaved a sigh that could blow the fire from the sun. He blinked tears from his eyes, and smiled weakly at Dolly. Dolly did not know what she should do to comfort her friend.
"If it helps your thoughts find a direction, my friend, Kitty's heart is not out of your grasp. She feels that she has done you wrong, and would certainly like to remain your acquaintance, if not more. Be persistent and genuine. You might be surprised." With that Dolly reached over and grasped his hand in reassurance. Levin was grateful for the gesture, and clung to her hand as if her hand represented the idol on which his dreams were bent.
"Thank you, Dollinka. I will treasure your council, and try to find the courage to match my words." With a final nod, Levin left the parlor, leaving the door to the whitewashed kitchen open, as if inviting Dolly to follow him and assist him in reaching Kitty's heart.
~ 8 ~
Levin asked his carriage driver to stop in the central square of Moscow for a moment. His starry eyes roved around the plaza until he noticed a young girl selling flowers. He purchased an armful of roses the color of cotton, and pressed a pocketful of coins as well as the change from his purchase into the girl's hand, which was gray with cold and chaffed with work. Her face offered just gratitude, and Levin replied with a smile before ascending the steps into his carriage. He directed that he be taken to the Shcherbatsky's city residence, and spent the time straightening every pearly petal, imagining each another lock to Kitty's soul, opened.
~ 9 ~
Levin straightened his collar as he cautiously ambled up to the Shcherbatsky's home. He licked his lips nervously, and rapped his calloused knuckles on the mahogany door. 'If in bronze, this woodwork could rival Ghiberti,' Levin thought to himself. 'But these are the true gates to Paradise.' At that point Prince Alexander Dmítrievich opened the door, and greeted Levin with a warm smile.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Levin!" chuckled the elder gentleman amiably.
"Yes, sir. I was wondering if the young princess was in?" Dmítrievich grinned wryly. He had always believed Levin was a good match for Kitty. Now it seemed his tedious prodding was bearing fruit.
"I am sorry, Konstantín, but Katerína is at the Garden with an acquaintance of hers. She will return later this evening, unless you plan on calling on her at the rink." He said this all with the air of a wise matchmaker, but in Levin's hopeful eyes, he became one.
With a polite farewell and a nod of thanks, Levin retreated towards the welcoming shadows of his carriage, the white feathers of snow forming encouraging drifts behind him as he went.
~ 10 ~
He instructed his serving man to head towards the Zoological Gardens, and sat back in the enveloping seat, thinking of everything and nothing. When the driver shouted to him that the carriage had reached its destination, Levin climbed out, and seemed to skip to the lake, imagining himself gliding across its serene service with Kitty in his arms. Levin pulled his coat up to his chin, not wishing to be noticed or recognized at the moment, and asked for a pair of skates. He clumsily put them on, cold fingers fumbling with the ties. But once he was on the ice, he lost his awkwardness, and skated in long circles, his gray eyes roving the waltz performed in the crisp air of winter.
Levin finally saw Kitty, floating in slow, almost mournful arcs. He pulled the last ounce of mettle he could find from his fingertips, and moved towards Kitty, his feet pushing the ice away as gracefully as he pushed away his own doubts.
"Kátia, its wonderful to see you again," he said with a smile. Kitty's eyes flashed for a moment, then calmed, and seemed to deepen.
"I did not expect to see you here, Levin," she replied sharply.
"Indeed. I had merely hoped we could engage in friendly conversation, forget recent blemishes on our friendship." Kitty smiled again, and this time the smile filtered up to her eyes, and seemed to radiate from them. Levin caught his breath, and his mind swam, as he realized that their love wasn't all spent on spite.
At that point, Natálya Alexándrovna, Kitty's elder sister, came over towards the pair, as she sensed Kitty needed help in turning away this buffoon. Her toes chipped sharply against the ice as she called out a greeting to Kitty.
"Princess, how lovely to see you," supplemented Levin. "How is your husband?"
"He is well." She turned sharply to Kitty. "Why are you consorting with the country gentry so, sister?" Kitty was speechless, appalled at her sister's impression. "What business have you here?" asked Natálya, returning to Levin. Levin stammered an apology, and looked to Kitty for help. But his plea was unanswered.
Kitty reached for her sister's arm. "Indeed, Konstantín, you have no business here. I will return your visit some other time." Levin slipped backwards, stumbling slightly on a hidden patch of black ice before regaining his balance.
"Very well," he replied. "By your leave, I will depart. Another time, Princess," he said, nodding his head to Kitty. Kitty kept her eyes hard and leveled, albeit for a small flash of sympathy and apology. Levin caught the flash, but was more annoyed than relieved. If Kitty was to play her own game, then that was for her to decide. Meanwhile, Levin would return home, and reflect. Why had Kitty refused him? A small voice in his soul whispered that the reason was that Kitty was foolish and vain, caring nothing for him or his feelings. The voice said that Kitty was the problem. But Levin silenced the voice, and tried to think of ways in which to win Kitty's heart.
~ 11 ~
Kitty spent the rest of the afternoon with her sister, and then returned home after seeing Natálya off. She awoke the next morning to find that she had received a note from Levin. It was an invitation to a poetry reading in the local book shop the next day, and asked that Kitty attend it as Levin's guest. Kitty had made up her mind to go after a secondary perusal, and contemplated how the situation could possibly occur. And how it could end.
~ 12 ~
She arrived the next morning at the shop, and saw that Levin had been waiting for her. Kitty pretended not to notice him at first, her indifference turning him into a waif, in more than just her own thought. A tired-looking patriarch stepped to the center of the room and began reciting from an ancient tome. Kitty, the least bit interested, circumscribed around the room, while Levin did the same. Levin shot her looks of pitiful devotion, and impatient questioning. Kitty replied in her own fashion. While she did indeed find Levin an agreeable potential partner, Levin was not connected to any of Moscow's fine social circles, and Kitty was even more fiercely determined to keep hold of the one commodity in her life. She gave glances of sympathy altered by stares of aloofness. Her morse code of countenances gave Levin the message she intended, but not the message he wanted to hear. He sneered and stalked out of the room, causing the reader to pause in his monotonous tirade, an act unnoticed by the sleepy crowd. Kitty bit her lip in self-disgust. She really liked Levin. Why couldn't he understand that she was doing this for the promotion of her future? Couldn't he understand that as Kitty was losing some petals, she needed to find a supportive and good husband before she wilted completely? She would go after him, and make him understand.
~ 13 ~
But Levin understood more than she thought. Once he deciphered Kitty's actions, he realized that there was little hope for such a beauty. How could she be so superficial? How could her thoughts be bent on so trivial and meaningless a thing, the lesser of the four Bohemian ideals? He clenched his hand together, almost as if he holding on tightly to his pain and surprise. Maybe this pain he felt near her had become such a part of Kitty, that to lose the pain would be to lose his goddess. But she was as corrupt as any Olympian deity. And she was no Chloris. She could not defend her honor if she had none. Levin curled his upper lip, and was sinfully pleased when he saw the look of horror on Kitty's face. He turned sharply on his heels and walked out of the room, stepping lightly and attempting to stomp at the same time. The resulting thump resonated through the quiet room. Levin hoped that every beat drove itself cruelly into Kitty's heart, if such a thing could be found.
~ 14 ~
Levin had already created a path a few lengths from the door when he felt a small touch on his shoulder, as if a friendly dove had lighted on him reassuringly. He turned around with a smile, but it quickly became a frown. Kitty was standing there, her large eyes imploring and confused.
"Konstantín, what happened? Why did you leave so soon? Was the poetry not in your taste, or did you find my company unwanted?" She pursed her lips slightly at the end of her speech, and allowed the bottom lip to quiver, which beyond giving the look of pity, translated into a pathetic countenance in Levin's eyes. What was she thinking? Levin looked down at his open, cold hand. Blisters had formed from working on his farm, leaving his palm bitter and hard. It would be so easy.. It would all end. all the pain and-Levin quickly came to his senses and stuffed his newly clenched fist into his breeches pocket. His face softened involuntarily, and his eyes lost their depth, as he began to drown in Kitty's beauty and innocence. He stumbled for words before he finally began.
"I was merely surprised, my dear Kitty. I had thought that we were to spend some time together, but you had seemed to believe otherwise." Levin stopped slowly, studying Kitty's face, and looking for an answer.
"Oh, Konstantín. It was necessary, don't you see? My image is shattered since I have been gone. I must think of my future. Of my future husband." Kitty finished this declaration with a flourish, as if it was the most obvious statement she had ever made. Levin's jaw worked and he mouthed soundlessly, while he seemed to swell with fury; his eyes turning a stormy dark gray.
"Do you remember the question I asked you a very long time ago, right before your trip?" Levin struggled to get his emotions under control. He was a Stoic at heart, and an unnecessary outburst would not help him at this time. Kitty blinked furiously, her conscience wandering inside her head, looking for the answer to Levin's question.
"Oh yes, I remember now. You asked me to be your wife. What a silly question that was. You are a very nice person, Levin, but I would never marry you. You have no social prestige." Levin stare disbelievingly, mutely shaking his head.
"Is that all that matters to you?" he asked in a deadly whisper, his words dripping poison. "Social status?"
"Of course," replied Kitty, this new attack only fazing her for a minute. "You were much too poor when you asked me the last time." Levin was still dumbfounded, and stalked away, shying from the imagined flutter of white gloved finger, leaving Kitty standing alone to slowly ponder Levin's replies, her face turning ash gray when she finally realized that Levin still loved her.
~ 15 ~
The following day Kitty awoke early in order to meet her friends in the village. After a short afternoon spent perusing the markets, they conversed for a long while in the lilting style so common with the ignorant. But soon that talk turned in a way Kitty did not foresee or wish.
"Katerína, there has been talk that you are seeing that countryman who calls himself a noble again. Is it not true?" Kitty's friend, Elizavéta asked slowly.
"No, no of course not, Betsy. I indulge him for the sake of our old friendship, but we have never reached any level higher than that. Nor do I wish that it will." Kitty was almost panicky. She would not lose her reputation over petty rumors.
"Well, now is your chance to prove your words," said Marya, another of Kitty's friends. "Because he is right over there."
Kitty turned suddenly, the breath catching in her throat. Levin was indeed standing by a small flower shop. He had noticed Kitty, but gave no glance of recognition or hope. He was beyond hope.
"This is a futile exercise. I said I do not think anything of Levin, and I stand by those words." Kitty glared at her friends with level eyes, but her slighting quivering lip told her friends that she was bluffing. Elizavéta shook her head slowly.
"No, I don't think so, Kitty darling. Do us this little favor, for your friends." But the speaker's eyes betrayed the denotation of her words. Kitty had to denounce Levin or her friends. She chose the former.
Kitty slowly rose from her chair with the air of a queen, and her face was just as blank and unreadable. Levin saw her through his frost- covered eyelashes. He made no obvious movement, but his jaw worked slightly, and his scared eyes darted from the vision her beauty to his right, and the lily, whose color matched his face, he was supposedly examining.
"Konstantín, it is, as always, a pleasure to see you, but I am afraid your trip here has been wasted." Levin was attempting to gulp down his nervousness. How could she stand there, so composed, when he was ready to prostrate himself at her feet, craving alms from such an angel. "For you see, it is hopeless for you to love me, for I will never return the favor," she continued, the coldness of her voice reflecting in the falling snow flurries. "How can you say this?" he stammered. "Are these your true feelings?" Her nodding head made a Siren's howl echo through his mind until he noticed the "no" that could plainly be discerned in her eyes. His brows knit together inquisitively. Perhaps was her father forcing her to say these things? But no, her father liked Levin, and hoped for a marriage. Then who? He searched Kitty's face for an answer. Just then Kitty darted her wide eyes to her friends, who were seated a dozen yards away, watching intently. His emotions caught in his throat, where they smoldered, and then returned with red sparks of anger. His eyes flashed, and Kitty took a half-step back. Kitty was again concerned for her self-image more than her true feelings for him. She would again break his heart to bring her pride a notch higher. His cheeks rose slightly in a silent snarl, and his eyes narrowed. "You choose your friends, Princess, very well. Now we say farewell." Levin bowed courteously, but his eyes never left her pained face. He lurched towards his carriage, and his dark silhouette was soon lost in a tempest of small snowflakes. Kitty returned to her friends, who tried to congratulate her on her fortitude, but she merely replied that she wasn't feeling well. She returned home, where she sat for not a few long moments staring at the fire built in the cheery parlor. After even the tongues of flame began to accuse her, she moved to the entryway on her way to her room. She found a plain white envelope on the table there, which contained a hastily written note in handwriting she recognized as belonging to one of Levin's servants. It merely said that Levin was returning to his country home, and wished Kitty a long and prosperous life. Levin had signed it at the bottom in the quick, sharp script he reserved for business transactions. Kitty clutched the letter to her, and ran up the long stairs to her rooms, where she collapsed on a crimson colored sofa, sobbing into the forgiving silk.