roquet party to which the Princess Tverskaya had invited
Anna was to consist of two ladies and their adorers. These two
ladies were the chief representatives of a select new Petersburg
circle, nicknamed, in imitation of some imitation, _les sept
merveilles du monde_. These ladies belonged to a circle which,
though of the highest society, was utterly hostile to that in
which Anna moved. Moreover, Stremov, one of the most influential
people in Petersburg, and the elderly admirer of Liza Merkalova,
was Alexey Alexandrovitch's enemy in the political world. From
all these considerations Anna had not meant to go, and the hints
in Princess Tverskaya's note referred to her refusal. But now
Anna was eager to go, in the hope of seeing Vronsky.

Anna arrived at Princess Tverskaya's earlier than the other
guests.

At the same moment as she entered, Vronsky's footman, with
side-whiskers combed out like a _Kammerjunker_, went in too.
He stopped at the door, and, taking off his cap, let her pass.
Anna recognized him, and only then recalled that Vronsky had
told her the day before that he would not come. Most likely
he was sending a note to say so.

As she took off her outer garment in the hall, she heard the
footman, pronouncing his "r's" even like a _Kammerjunker_, say,
"From the count for the princess," and hand the note.

She longed to question him as to where his master was. She
longed to turn back and send him a letter to come and see her, or
to go herself to see him. But neither the first nor the second
nor the third course was possible. Already she heard bells
ringing to announce her arrival ahead of her, and Princess
Tverskaya's footman was standing at the open door waiting for her
to go forward into the inner rooms.

"The princess is in the garden; they will inform her immediately.
Would you be pleased to walk into the garden?" announced another
footman in another room.

The position of uncertainty, of indecision, was still the same as
at home--worse, in fact, since it was impossible to take any
step, impossible to see Vronsky, and she had to remain here among
outsiders, in company so uncongenial to her present mood. But
she was wearing a dress that she knew suited her. She was not
alone; all around was that luxurious setting of idleness that she
was used to, and she felt less wretched than at home. She was
not forced to think what she was to do. Everything would be done
of itself. On meeting Betsy com