# Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Seven/Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX
Stepan Arkadyevitch was going out, when Korneï came in, and announced, "Sergyeï Alekseyevitch."
​"Oh, Serozha!" he exclaimed; "and here was I, thinking it was some direktor of a department," he said to himself. "Anna begged me to see him."
And he recalled the sad, timid expression with which, as he left her, Anna had said to him, "You will see him, and can find out what he is doing, and where he is, and who is taking care of him. And, Stiva .... if possible! Would it be possible?" ....
He knew what she meant by the words, "if possible"; if it were possible to get the divorce, so as to have her son. But now Stepan Arkadyevitch knew that this was out of the question. He was none the less glad to see his nephew again.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch reminded his brother-in-law that he must not talk to him of his mother, and begged him not even by a word to remind him of her.
"He was very ill after that interview with his mother, which we were not prepared for," said Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, "and for a while we feared for his life. But sensible medical treatment and sea-bathing in the summer restored him to health, and I have followed the doctor's advice, and sent him to school. Activity, being with companions of his own age, have had a happy influence on him; his health is good, and he is studying well."
"Why, he's become quite a young man! he is no longer Serozha; he is full-grown Sergyeï Alekseyevitch," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, with a smile, as a handsome, tall, robust boy, dressed in a kurtotchka, or jacket, and long trousers, came in briskly and without constraint. The boy had a look of sound health and good spirits. He bowed to his uncle as to a stranger. Then, as he remembered him, he reddened, and, as if offended and angry at something, turned away, and handed his school report to his father.
"Well, that is excellent," said Karenin; "now you may go and play."
​The boy quickly glanced at his father.
"I remember you, mon oncle," answered the boy, looking at Stepan Arkadyevitch, and then casting down his eyes.
The uncle called the lad to him, and took his hand. "Well, how are you?" he asked, wanting to talk, but not knowing what to say.
The boy, blushing, and not answering, hastily with- drew his hand, and, as soon as his uncle had released it, flew away like a bird set free.
A year had passed since Serozha had seen his mother for the last time. During this time he had not even heard anything about her. He had been sent to school, and had become acquainted with boys of his own age, and learned to like them. His dreams and recollections about his mother, which after his interview with her had made him ill, now no longer occupied his mind. When they recurred to him he even tried to get rid of them, regarding them as disgraceful for a boy and fit only for girls; he knew that his parents had quarreled and parted, and that he must accustom himself to the idea of remaining with his father.
The sight of his uncle, who looked like his mother, was unpleasant to him, because it awakened memories which caused him shame; and it was still more unpleasant, because, from certain words which he had caught as he entered the door, and by the peculiar expression of his father's and his uncle's faces, he knew that they were talking about his mother. And so as not to blame his father, with whom he lived and on whom he was dependent, and especially so as not to give way to a sentiment which he felt was too degrading, he tried not to look at his uncle, who had come to disturb his tranquillity, and not to think of the past.
But when, shortly after, Stepan Arkadyevitch went out, he found the boy on the stairs, and he called him to him, and asked him how he spent bis spare time, now that he was at school. Serozha, out of his father's presence, talked freely.
"We have a railroad now," he said, in answer to his ​question. "Just see! These two are sitting on the seat; they are passengers; and there is one man trying to stand on the seat; and they are all going, and by means of our arms and our belts we go through the whole length of the hall, and the doors open in front. And I tell you it's very hard here for the conductor."
"Is that the one standing?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, amused.
"Yes. He has to be bold and skilful, because the train comes to a very sudden stop, and he might get thrown over."
"Well, that is no joke," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, sadly, as he looked at the boy's bright eyes, which were like his mother's, and which had already lost their childish look of innocence. And, although he had promised Alekseï Aleksandrovitch not to speak of Anna, he could not resist.
"Do you remember your mother?" he asked suddenly.
"No, I do not," Serozha answered quickly, turning red; and his uncle could not make him talk any more.
When the Russian tutor found Serozha on the stairs, half an hour after, he could not make out whether he was crying or was sulky.
"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" he asked. "I said this was a dangerous game, and I shall have to tell your father?"
"If I had, no one should find it out," answered the boy.
"Well, what's the matter, then?"
"Let me alone!.... What is it to him whether I remember or not? .... Why did he remind me? .... Let me be ...." and the boy seemed to defy not only his tutor, but the whole world.