Darya Alexandrovna carried out her intention and went to see Anna.  She was sorry to annoy her sister and to do anything Levin disliked.  She quite understood how right the Levins were in not wishing to have anything to do with Vronsky.  But she felt she must go and see Anna, and show her that her feelings could not be changed, in spite of the change in her position.  That she might be independent of the Levins in this expedition, Darya Alexandrovna sent to the village to hire horses for the drive; but Levin learning of it went to her to protest.

“What makes you suppose that I dislike your going?  But, even if I did dislike it, I should still more dislike your not taking my horses,” he said.  “You never told me that you were going for certain.  Hiring horses in the village is disagreeable to me, and, what’s of more importance, they’ll undertake the job and never get you there.  I have horses.  And if you don’t want to wound me, you’ll take mine.”

Darya Alexandrovna had to consent, and on the day fixed Levin had ready for his sister-in-law a set of four horses and relays, getting them together from the farm- and saddle-horses—­not at all a smart-looking set, but capable of taking Darya Alexandrovna the whole distance in a single day.  At that moment, when horses were wanted for the princess, who was going, and for the midwife, it was a difficult matter for Levin to make up the number, but the duties of hospitality would not let him allow Darya Alexandrovna to hire horses when staying in his house.  Moreover, he was well aware that the twenty roubles that would be asked for the journey were a serious matter for her; Darya Alexandrovna’s pecuniary affairs, which were in a very unsatisfactory state, were taken to heart by the Levins as if they were their own.

Darya Alexandrovna, by Levin’s advice, started before daybreak.  The road was good, the carriage comfortable, the horses trotted along merrily, and on the box, besides the coachman, sat the counting-house clerk, whom Levin was sending instead of a groom for greater security.  Darya Alexandrovna dozed and waked up only on reaching the inn where the horses were to be changed.

After drinking tea at the same well-to-do peasant’s with whom Levin had stayed on the way to Sviazhsky’s, and chatting with the women about their children, and with the old man about Count Vronsky, whom the latter praised very highly, Darya Alexandrovna, at ten o’clock, went on again.  At home, looking after her children, she had no time to think.  So now, after this journey of four hours, all the thoughts she had suppressed before rushed swarming into her brain, and she thought over all her life as she never had before, and from the most different points of view.  Her thoughts seemed strange even to herself.  At first she thought about the children, about whom she was uneasy, although the princess and Kitty (she reckoned more upon her) had promised to look after them.  “If only Masha does not