"Uncle Kostya! mamma's coming, and grandfather, and Sergey

Ivanovitch, and someone else," they said, clambering up into the

trap.

"Who is he?"

"An awfully terrible person! And he does like this with his

arms," said Tanya, getting up in the trap and mimicking

Katavasov.

"Old or young?" asked Levin, laughing, reminded of someone, he

did not know whom, by Tanya's performance.

"Oh, I hope it's not a tiresome person!" thought Levin.

As soon as he turned, at a bend in the road, and saw the party

coming, Levin recognized Katavasov in a straw hat, walking along

swinging his arms just as Tanya had shown him. Katavasov was

very fond of discussing metaphysics, having derived his notions

from natural science writers who had never studied metaphysics,

and in Moscow Levin had had many arguments with him of late.

And one of these arguments, in which Katavasov had obviously

considered that he came off victorious, was the first thing Levin

thought of as he recognized him.

"No, whatever I do, I won't argue and give utterance to my ideas

lightly," he thought.

Getting out of the trap and greeting his brother and Katavasov,

Levin asked about his wife.

"She has taken Mitya to Kolok" (a copse near the house). "She

meant to have him out there because it's so hot indoors," said

Dolly. Levin had always advised his wife not to take the baby to

the wood, thinking it unsafe, and he was not pleased to hear

this.

"She rushes about from place to place with him," said the prince,

smiling. "I advised her to try putting him in the ice cellar."

"She meant to come to the bee house. She thought you would be

there. We are going there," said Dolly.

"Well, and what are you doing?" said Sergey Ivanovitch, falling

back from the rest and walking beside him.

"Oh, nothing special. Busy as usual with the land," answered

Levin. "Well, and what about you? Come for long? We have been

expecting you for such a long time."

"Only for a fortnight. I've a great deal to do in Moscow."

At these words the brothers' eyes met, and Levin, in spite of the

desire he always had, stronger than ever just now, to be on

affectionate and still more open terms with his brother, felt an

awkwardness in looking at him. He dropped his eyes and did not

know what to say.

Casting over the subjects of conversation that would be pleasant

to Sergey Ivanovitch, and would keep him off the subject of the

Servian war and the Slavonic question, at which he had hinted by

the allusion to what he had to do in Moscow, Levin began to talk

of Sergey Ivanovitch's book.




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