He heard Agafea Mihalovna talking of how Prohor had forgotten his duty to God, and with the money Levin had given him to buy a horse, had been drinking without stopping, and had beaten his wife till he’d half killed her.  He listened, and read his book, and recalled the whole train of ideas suggested by his reading.  It was Tyndall’s Treatise on Heat.  He recalled his own criticisms of Tyndall of his complacent satisfaction in the cleverness of his experiments, and for his lack of philosophic insight.  And suddenly there floated into his mind the joyful thought:  “In two years’ time I shall have two Dutch cows; Pava herself will perhaps still be alive, a dozen young daughters of Berkoot and the three others—­how lovely!”

He took up his book again.  “Very good, electricity and heat are the same thing; but is it possible to substitute the one quantity for the other in the equation for the solution of any problem?  No.  Well, then what of it?  The connection between all the forces of nature is felt instinctively....  It’s particulary nice if Pava’s daughter should be a red-spotted cow, and all the herd will take after her, and the other three, too!  Splendid!  To go out with my wife and visitors to meet the herd....  My wife says, Kostya and I looked after that calf like a child.’  ’How can it interest you so much?’ says a visitor.  ’Everything that interests him, interests me.’  But who will she be?” And he remembered what had happened at Moscow....  “Well, there’s nothing to be done....  It’s not my fault.  But now everything shall go on in a new way.  It’s nonsense to pretend that life won’t let one, that the past won’t let one.  One must struggle to live better, much better."...  He raised his head, and fell to dreaming.  Old Laska, who had not yet fully digested her delight at his return, and had run out into the yard to bark, came back wagging her tail, and crept up to him, bringing in the scent of fresh air, put her head under his hand, and whined plaintively, asking to be stroked.

“There, who’d have thought it?” said Agafea Mihalovna.  “The dog now...why, she understands that her master’s come home, and that he’s low-spirited.”

“Why low-spirited?”

“Do you suppose I don’t see it, sir?  It’s high time I should know the gentry.  Why, I’ve grown up from a little thing with them.  It’s nothing, sir, so long as there’s health and a clear conscience.”

Levin looked intently at her, surprised at how well she knew his thought.

“Shall I fetch you another cup?” said she, and taking his cup she went out.

Laska kept poking her head under his hand.  He stroked her, and she promptly curled up at his feet, laying her head on a hindpaw.  And in token of all now being well and satisfactory, she opened her mouth a little, smacked her lips, and settling her sticky lips more comfortably about her old teeth, she sank into blissful repose.  Levin watched all her movements attentively.