Anna Karenina (Louise Maude's Translation). Leo Tolstoy

Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Chapter 34

       Chapter 35

       Chapter 1

      TOWARD the end of the winter a consultation was held at the Shcherbatskys’ which was intended to ascertain the state of Kitty’s health and to decide what should be done to restore her failing strength. She was ill, and with the approach of spring grew worse. Their own doctor prescribed cod-liver oil, then iron, and then nitrate of silver, but as none of them did her any good and as he advised her to go abroad for the spring they sent for a celebrated specialist.

      The celebrated specialist, a very handsome man and by no means old, insisted on sounding the invalid.

      He, with particular pleasure as it seemed, insisted that a maidenly sense of shame is only a relic of barbarism, and that nothing is more natural than for a man still in his prime to handle a young woman’s naked body. He considered this natural because he did it every day, and did not, it seemed to him, either feel or think anything wrong when he did it. He therefore considered the feeling of shame in a girl to be not only a relic of barbarism but an insult to him.

      They had to submit, for although all the doctors studied in the same schools and from the same books and knew the same sciences, and though some said that this celebrated man was a bad doctor, at the Princess Shcherbatskaya’s and in her set it was for some reason assumed that he alone had a quite special knowledge and he alone could save Kitty. After having carefully examined and sounded the agitated invalid, who was stupefied with shame, the celebrity, having carefully washed his hands, stood in the drawing-room talking to the Prince. The Prince frowned and coughed as he listened to the doctor. As a man who had lived in the world and was neither stupid nor ill, the Prince did not believe in medicine, and in his heart was vexed at this farce, especially as he himself was probably the only one who thoroughly understood the cause of Kitty’s illness. ‘What a windbag,’ he thought as he listened to the celebrated doctor’s chatter about Kitty’s symptoms. The doctor meanwhile found it hard not to show his contempt for the old fellow, and with difficulty descended to the level of his comprehension. He saw that it was a waste of time to talk to him, and that the head in this house was the mother. It was before her that he meant to spread his pearls.

      Just then the Princess entered the room with the family doctor. The Prince moved away, trying not to show how absurd he thought the whole farce. The Princess was confused and did not know what to do. She felt guilty toward Kitty.

      ‘Well, doctor, decide our fate,’ she said. ‘Tell me everything… . Is there any hope?’ she meant to ask, but her lips trembled and she could not utter that question, and only added: ‘Well, doctor?’

      ‘In a moment, Princess. I will just have a talk with my colleague, and then I shall have the honour of giving you my opinion.’

      ‘Then we had better leave you?’

      ‘As you please.’

      The Princess left the room with a sigh.

      When the doctors were alone, the family doctor began timidly to express his opinion, which was that a tuberculous process had begun, but … etc. The celebrity listened, but in the midst of the speech looked at his large gold watch.

      ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘but …’

      The family doctor stopped respectfully in the middle of what he was saying.

      ‘We cannot, as you know, determine the beginning of a tuberculous process. As long as there are no cavities there is nothing definite to go by. But we may suspect it; and there are indications — a bad appetite, nervous excitability, and so on. The question is this: When a tuberculous process is suspected, what should be done to nourish the patient?’

      ‘But you know in these cases there is always some hidden moral cause,’ the family doctor allowed himself to remark with a subtle smile.

      ‘Yes, that goes without saying,’ replied the celebrity, and again looked at his watch. ‘Excuse me, has the bridge over the Yauza been repaired, or has one still to drive round?’ he asked. ‘Oh, it has been repaired! Well then, I can get there in twenty minutes. We were saying that the question is this: How to nourish the patient and strengthen the nerves. The two aims are connected, and we must act on both.’

      ‘How about a journey abroad?’ asked the family doctor.

      ‘I am opposed to journeys abroad. You see, if a tuberculous process has begun (which we don’t know), a journey abroad will not help the case. Something is necessary which will