第二天上午十一点钟，弗龙斯基坐车到彼得堡铁路车站去接母亲，他在大台阶上遇见的第一人便是奥布隆斯基，他是在等候乘坐同一列火车到达的妹妹。
“啊！大人阁下！”奥布隆斯基喊道，“你来接谁？”
“接我妈，”弗龙斯基像所有遇见奥布隆斯基的人一样满脸笑容地回答。他同他握手，一同走上台阶。“她今天从彼得堡来。”
“我等你一直等到夜里两点钟。你从谢尔巴茨基家出来又上哪儿去了？”
“回家去了，”弗龙斯基回答，“说实话，昨天从谢尔巴茨基家出来，我心里那么愉快，什么地方也不想去了。”
“从烈马的特征我能认出它来，
看那眼神我知道谁在恋爱。”
斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇像以前对列文一样抑扬顿挫地念道。
弗龙斯基微微一笑，那副神情似乎表示他不否认，但他立刻把话岔开。
“你来接谁？”他问。
“我吗？来接一位漂亮女人，”奥布隆斯基说。
“真有其事！”
“心存邪念的人必遭耻辱！接我妹妹安娜。”
“啊！是卡列尼娜夫人，”弗龙斯基说。
“你准认识她吧？”
“好像见过。也许没有见过……老实说，真的记不清了，”弗龙斯基心不在焉地回答，脑海里对卡列尼娜这个名字隐隐约约有一种索然乏味的东西。
“不过阿列克谢·亚历山德罗维奇，我那鼎鼎大名的连襟，你准知道。全世界都知道他。”
“我知道他的名声和长相。我知道他聪明，有学问，还有点笃信宗教……但你知道，那不是我……not in my line，”弗龙斯基用英语说。
“对，他是个很出色的人物；有点保守，但非常了不起，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇说，“非常了不起。”
“嗯，那很好嘛，”弗龙斯基微笑着说。“啊，你来了，”他对母亲的一个高个子老仆人站在门口说，“到这边来。”
除了奥布隆斯基对每个人都有一种吸引力以外，弗龙斯基近来觉得对他特别亲切，因为他在想象中把他和基蒂联系在一起了。
“怎样，我们给那位歌女在星期日举行一次盛大的宴会，怎么样？”他笑吟吟地挽着他的胳膊对他说。
“当然可以。我正在收集赞助费。啊，你认识我的朋友列文了吗？”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇问。
“认识。不过他走得很早。”
“他是个非常好的人，”奥布隆斯基接着说，“是不是？”
“我不知道为什么，”弗龙斯基回答，“我总觉得所有莫斯科的人，——当然，除了眼前这位，”他戏谑地补了一句，“都有点锋芒毕露。他们总是摆出一副架势，动不动发脾气，好像他们总要让人家感觉到什么似的……”
“对，的确是这样，确实这样，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇快活地笑着说。
“火车快来了吧？”弗龙斯基问一个铁路职员。
“火车已经发出了信号，”那职员回答。
车站上准备工作的忙乱，搬运夫的奔跑，警察和职员的来回走动，接客的人的出现，越来越清楚地表明火车快要到了。透过寒冷的蒸气可以看见穿短皮袄、着软毡靴的工人正穿过弯曲的铁轨。远处铁轨上可以听见汽笛声和火车头的轰隆声。
“不，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇说，他非常想把列文向基蒂求婚的事告诉弗龙斯基。“不，你对列文的看法不全面。他是个很神经质的人，有时确实很不愉快，但有时又十分可爱。他是个非常诚实、正直的人，有颗金子般的心。不过昨天有特殊原因，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇意味深长地笑着说，他已完全忘记他昨天对列文所怀有的真诚同情，现在他对他也怀着同样的同情，不过是向着弗龙斯基罢了。“是的，有原因使他不能不是要么特别幸福，要么特别不愉快。”
弗龙斯基站住，直截了当地问道：“怎么回事？难道他昨天向你 belle-soeur求婚了？”
“也许吧，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇说，“我昨天似乎看出一点苗头。是的，如果他走得很早，而且又不高兴的话，那准是……他恋爱很久了，我很替他惋惜。”
“原来如此！不过我想，她可以指望更好的配偶呀，”弗龙斯基说，挺直了身子又来回走起来，“虽然我不了解他，”他补充说，“是的，这种处境实在很难堪！因此许多人宁愿去追逐克拉拉。如果在那儿失败了，那只能证明你的钱不够，但在这里，你的自尊心就要受到考验了。火车来了。”
果然，远处已经响起了汽笛声。过了几分钟，月台开始震动，喷出的蒸气夹着寒气垂在地面上，火车头滚动过来了，中间轮子的杠杆有节奏地一上一下，司机弯着腰，身上披着霜。煤水车后面，使月台越来越摇晃的是行李车，里面有一条狗在汪汪叫。最后，旅客车厢渐渐停下了，一开始还晃动了一阵。
一个挺精神的乘务员在吹着口哨，跳下车来，接着性子急的旅客一个一个地走下车来：一个军官，挺得笔直，威严地环顾四周；一个随身带着提包、精神抖擞的小商人，喜笑颜开；一个肩搭口袋的农民。
弗龙斯基站在奥布隆斯基旁边，望着车厢和旅客，完全把他母亲忘了。刚才听到的有关基蒂的消息，使他兴奋和激动。他下意识地挺起胸膛，眼睛发亮。他觉得自己是一个胜利者。
“弗龙斯卡娅伯爵夫人在这节车厢里，”那个挺精神的乘务员走到弗龙斯基面前说。
这话提醒了弗龙斯基，使他想起了母亲和他即将同她见面。他从心里并不尊敬母亲，而且并不爱她，但又不承认这一点，虽然根据他所生活的圈子里的观念和他所受的教育，他不能设想对母亲有别的态度，只能极其恭敬和顺从，而且越是外表的恭敬和顺从，他内心对她越不尊敬，越不爱她。
Next day at eleven o’clock in the morning Vronsky drove to the station
of the Petersburg railway to meet his mother, and the first person he
came across on the great flight of steps was Oblonsky, who was
expecting his sister by the same train.
“Ah! your excellency!” cried Oblonsky, “whom are you meeting?”
“My mother,” Vronsky responded, smiling, as everyone did who met
Oblonsky. He shook hands with him, and together they ascended the
steps. “She is to be here from Petersburg today.”
“I was looking out for you till two o’clock last night. Where did you
go after the Shtcherbatskys’?”
“Home,” answered Vronsky. “I must own I felt so well content yesterday
after the Shtcherbatskys’ that I didn’t care to go anywhere.”
“I know a gallant steed by tokens sure,
And by his eyes I know a youth in love,”
declaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch, just as he had done before to Levin.
Vronsky smiled with a look that seemed to say that he did not deny it,
but he promptly changed the subject.
“And whom are you meeting?” he asked.
“I? I’ve come to meet a pretty woman,” said Oblonsky.
“You don’t say so!”
“_Honi soit qui mal y pense!_ My sister Anna.”
“Ah! that’s Madame Karenina,” said Vronsky.
“You know her, no doubt?”
“I think I do. Or perhaps not ... I really am not sure,” Vronsky
answered heedlessly, with a vague recollection of something stiff and
tedious evoked by the name Karenina.
“But Alexey Alexandrovitch, my celebrated brother-in-law, you surely
must know. All the world knows him.”
“I know him by reputation and by sight. I know that he’s clever,
learned, religious somewhat.... But you know that’s not ... _not in my
line,_” said Vronsky in English.
“Yes, he’s a very remarkable man; rather a conservative, but a splendid
man,” observed Stepan Arkadyevitch, “a splendid man.”
“Oh, well, so much the better for him,” said Vronsky smiling. “Oh,
you’ve come,” he said, addressing a tall old footman of his mother’s,
standing at the door; “come here.”
Besides the charm Oblonsky had in general for everyone, Vronsky had
felt of late specially drawn to him by the fact that in his imagination
he was associated with Kitty.
“Well, what do you say? Shall we give a supper on Sunday for the
_diva?_” he said to him with a smile, taking his arm.
“Of course. I’m collecting subscriptions. Oh, did you make the
acquaintance of my friend Levin?” asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.
“Yes; but he left rather early.”
“He’s a capital fellow,” pursued Oblonsky. “Isn’t he?”
“I don’t know why it is,” responded Vronsky, “in all Moscow
people—present company of course excepted,” he put in jestingly,
“there’s something uncompromising. They are all on the defensive, lose
their tempers, as though they all want to make one feel something....”
