oldly greeted
Princess Varvara. Sviazhsky too she knew. He inquired how his
queer friend with the young wife was, and running his eyes over
the ill-matched horses and the carriage with its patched
mud-guards, proposed to the ladies that they should get into the
_char-a-banc_.

"And I'll get into this vehicle," he said. "The horse is quiet,
and the princess drives capitally."

"No, stay as you were," said Anna, coming up, "and we'll go in
the carriage," and taking Dolly's arm, she drew her away.

Darya Alexandrovna's eyes were fairly dazzled by the elegant
carriage of a pattern she had never seen before, the splendid
horses, and the elegant and gorgeous people surrounding her. But
what struck her most of all was the change that had taken place
in Anna, whom she knew so well and loved. Any other woman, a
less close observer, not knowing Anna before, or not having
thought as Darya Alexandrovna had been thinking on the road,
would not have noticed anything special in Anna. But now Dolly
was struck by that temporary beauty, which is only found in
women during the moments of love, and which she saw now in Anna's
face. Everything in her face, the clearly marked dimples in her
cheeks and chin, the line of her lips, the smile which, as it
were, fluttered about her face, the brilliance of her eyes, the
grace and rapidity of her movements, the fulness of the notes of
her voice, even the manner in which, with a sort of angry
friendliness, she answered Veslovsky when he asked permission to
get on her cob, so as to teach it to gallop with the right leg
foremost--it was all peculiarly fascinating, and it seemed as if
she were herself aware of it, and rejoicing in it.

When both the women were seated in the carriage, a sudden
embarrassment came over both of them. Anna was disconcerted by
the intent look of inquiry Dolly fixed upon her. Dolly was
embarrassed because after Sviazhsky's phrase about "this
vehicle," she could not help feeling ashamed of the dirty old
carriage in which Anna was sitting with her. The coachman Philip
and the counting house clerk were experiencing the same
sensation. The counting house clerk, to conceal his confusion,
busied himself settling the ladies, but Philip the coachman
became sullen, and was bracing himself not to be overawed in
future by this external superiority. He smiled ironically,
looking at the raven horse, and was already deciding in his own
mind that this smart trotter in th