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.

Hearing Anna's voice, a smart, tall, English nurse with a
disagreeable face and a dissolute expression walked in at the
door, hurriedly shaking her fair curls, and immediately began to
defend herself though Anna had not found fault with her. At
every word Anna said, the English nurse said hurriedly several
times, "Yes, my lady."

The rosy baby with her black eyebrows and hair, her sturdy red
little body with tight goose-flesh skin, delighted Darya
Alexandrovna in spite of the cross expression with which she
stared at the stranger. She positively envied the baby's healthy
appearance. She was delighted, too, at the baby's crawling. Not
one of her own children had crawled like that. When the baby was
pu