Anna Karenina - Part 3

At the end of September the timber had been carted for building

the cattleyard on the land that had been allotted to the

association of peasants, and the butter from the cows was sold

and the profits divided. In practice the system worked

capitally, or, at least, so it seemed to Levin. In order to work

out the whole subject theoretically and to complete his book,

which, in Levin's daydreams, was not merely to effect a

revolution in political economy, but to annihilate that science

entirely and to lay the foundation of a new science of the

relation of the people to the soil, all that was left to do was

to make a tour abroad, and to study on the spot all that had been

done in the same direction, and to collect conclusive evidence

that all that had been done there was not what was wanted. Levin

was only waiting for the delivery of his wheat to receive the

money for it and go abroad. But the rains began, preventing the

harvesting of the corn and potatoes left in the fields, and

putting a stop to all work, even to the delivery of the wheat.

The mud was impassable along the roads; two mills were carried

away, and the weather got worse and worse.

On the 30th of September the sun came out in the morning, and

hoping for fine weather, Levin began making final preparations

for his journey. He gave orders for the wheat to be delivered,

sent the bailiff to the merchant to get the money owing him, and

went out himself to give some final directions on the estate

before setting off.

Having finished all his business, soaked through with the streams

of water which kept running down the leather behind his neck and

his gaiters, but in the keenest and most confident temper, Levin

returned homewards in the evening. The weather had become worse

than ever towards evening; the hail lashed the drenched mare so

cruelly that she went along sideways, shaking her head and ears;

but Levin was all right under his hood, and he looked cheerfully

about him at the muddy streams running under the wheels, at the

drops hanging on every bare twig, at the whiteness of the patch

of unmelted hailstones on the planks of the bridge, at the thick

layer of still juicy, fleshy leaves that lay heaped up about the

stripped elm-tree. In spite of the gloominess of nature around

him, he felt peculiarly eager. The talks he had been having with

the peasants in the further village had shown that they were

beginning to get used to their new position. The old servant to

whose hut he had gone to get dry evidently approved of Levin's

plan, and of his own accord proposed to enter the partnership by

the purchase of cattle.